Sombra. Saga of Hatred

by HiddenUnderACouch

Rating: teen
Tags: Sex, Tragedy, Crystal Ponies, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad, Romance, Princess Luna, Original Character, King Sombra, Princess Celestia
Length: 190995

Some names are respected. Some are ignored. Some are loved. There is only one name in the whole world of Equestria that became the synonym for cruelty. This name is Sombra, and this is his story.

It's easy to hate a pony you don't know. The pony, whose name became the very definition of fear. The pony, who slaughtered thousands, if not millions. It's easy to hate what you don't know.

Sombra's life is shrouded in mystery. The long list of his crimes is known to everypony, but his real biography is unknown. Fight back your fear, and delve into the story of his life, from birth to imprisonment. Find out his every secret, feel his pain, his hatred, his love and his pride.

See how an innocent child was shaped to become the Eternal Weeper, the Bloody Emperor, the Demon King. See, how he earned these names, and why he walked the path he walked.

This story will contain gore, sensual scenes, disturbing ideas, mental disorders and very weird relationships.

Edited and proofread by: MessoriaAQ and Written Out
Note: This is a rewritten version! It's much higher quality than the beta version.
Cover art by: BillieW

Featured in Fiction Illumination on 18.11.2013. Big thanks to Cerulean Voice for featuring it!

[img]http://i.imgur.com/6MrWqNZ.png[/img]

Published 2013-08-18 01:50:03 UTC
Last updated 2017-01-27 01:07:25 UTC

My Dearest Mother

The biting light of the morning sun seeped through Willemite's eyelids, making her turn her head around a bit and crawl out of the dream land. She opened her eyes, squinting a bit. The calm breath of her son warmed her chest as he buried his head in her mane, uttering cute squeaks while squirming around, trying to find the most comfortable position. Willemite looked at him and carefully kissed him on the cheek. That was the first time Sombra had slept for this long. Usually, when Willemite woke up, he was already on his hooves, running around the house or drawing. It seemed her presence had convinced him to stay in bed longer.

She didn't want to wake him up right now, and just slowly moved him to the side, put his head on a pillow, and tucked up the blanket. Thereafter she got up and looked around.

Sombra's room wasn't big, maybe even small, but he was quite comfortable here. The box with his toys stood beside his bed. Most of the toys were quite old, some of them had belonged to Willemite when she was a child, but there were several new ones: gifts from Star Gem.

The table near the left wall was Sombra's workshop. There, he drew pictures or sorted them in some kind of weird order that only he could understand. The pencils were all black and white, since colored pencils cost quite a sum. Willemite walked carefully, trying not to emit even a single sound, hoping not to wake up her son, as she went for the door. She'd just sneak out, make breakfast, and wait for her sweetheart to wake up.

Some heavy thoughts crossed her mind as she walked past the door that led to her bedroom. Loud snoring reached her ears when she came a little bit closer to investigate. Amethyst had some problems with snoring, so she was a bit relieved to know that he was home.

The memories of yesterday were still fresh in her mind, and the bitter feeling of pain still prickled her from inside. Willemite didn't even open the door, and just continued on her way to the kitchen. Today, she'd make breakfast just for Sombra. Amethyst would have to take care of himself from now on. Enough of this stupid servitude – he was an adult, and should learn to behave like one.

Half an hour later and Willemite had already made several sandwiches with butter for Sombra, and poured some water into a glass and put it into the direct sunlight so it’d heat up a bit. She looked outside, realizing that she'd have to leave soon, maybe even before anypony woke up. Star Gem and his sister had school today, so she'd have to arrive early and prepare them – gather the bags, sort the pencils and so on. Star Gem usually did it all himself, but Night Spark refused to even lift a hoof to help.

Suddenly, Willemite's concentration was interrupted by the creak of the door. She quickly turned to the source of the sound and sighed. Amethyst stood there, not quite awake, with his eyes half closed and his bedmane. He scanned the room with his eyes and noticed the breakfast, which stood upon the table.

"Mornin', dear," he yawned and took a step towards the food, when suddenly Willemite stepped right between the table and him.

"No. This isn't for you," she said in a cold voice, looking straight into his eyes. "You'll have to learn to take care of yourself from now on."

"Wha— what do you mean?" Amethyst said, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to drive away the sleep that was still clinging to him.

"I mean that you are by yourself from now on. You have to learn to be a parent, and you should start with the simplest task possible: making yourself something to eat. I already made breakfast for Sombra, so you don't need to worry about it," Willemite said and came closer to her husband. "Also, Star Gem goes to school today, so you need to watch over our kid. Make sure he has dinner and lunch. He usually plays in his room, so there won't be too much trouble."

"But dear, I have another audition today!"

"It's officially cancelled. No more auditions. I know how each of them ends. Enough of this idiocy, time to get serious," she said, and her words sounded more like an order. Amethyst stayed silent and just nodded acceptingly.

"Good. I'll be leaving in ten minutes. Take care," Willemite practically dismissed him and turned her attention to some more important things. Her husband looked away, delving into his thoughts.

She sounded too serious to be joking, and that cold anger in her eyes made her arguments even weightier. It was his son and shouldn't be too hard to handle. Though, Amethyst was a bit disappointed. Even after the scandal yesterday, he considered the victory in that gambling tournament a possibility. How many problems he could’ve solved; nopony of them would need to work after, there’d been so much money at stake! If he had won, he could have supplied them with food for the next five years! But this suppressed fury made it clear that he was not getting another chance.

He quietly bustled about, making himself a sandwich, though, it turned out they had ran out of bread, only one slice of it was left for him. Bread was quite pricey in general, because of the infertility of the imperial ground. Of course, there were a few farms in some corners of the Crystal Empire, and their owners were some of the richest ponies in the country, but there wasn't enough bread for everypony. It was mainly imported from neighboring countries, which was pretty disadvantageous since the neighbors could manipulate the Empire by threatening them with an embargo. Even to this day, this problem was on everypony's mind.

Amethyst sighed, and decided to eat the bread like it was: without anything else. While he munched on the grainy product, Willemite finished up with cleaning and went to check on Sombra, and maybe, to kiss him goodbye for the day.

The sound of a closing door reached his ears, and Amethyst sighed heavily. He was no good babysitter. He often forgot things, but he had to do it. This was his son after all, thus it was his duty to take care of him. Besides, maybe Willemite would forgive him if he did well. He just hoped that Sombra would wake up soon, for it felt as though Amethyst would snap any second now and eat everything Willemite had prepared for the boy.

***

Sombra gobbled up another sandwich with a satisfied look on his face. Several crumbs of bread still stuck on his lips, and he licked them away with glee. Amethyst just looked at him with a little bit of jealousy in his eyes. The boy certainly had an appetite.

"So... how's it going?" Amethyst asked just to start a conversation.

"Hmm... it's all good. I defeated Star Gem in chess yesterday. It was fun," Sombra replied, tilting his head to the left, and then resumed eating.

"That's cool... So... Do you want to do anything special today? Like, go for a walk, catch butterflies, or whatever?" the father asked in a somewhat lazy voice, watching as the grey magic aura wrapped around yet another sandwich and carried it into Sombra's mouth. Telekinesis was something even children could learn easily. Almost every unicorn knew how to manipulate the energetic streams, no big deal.

"Err... no. Don't really feel like going out," Sombra said, after swallowing the sandwich.

"Okay... that's really good – don't want to go out today either," Amethyst said, sighing yet again. For a moment, they just sat in silence, with him just watching Sombra eat. Suddenly, he pierced Amethyst with his childish eyes, looking straight into his soul.

"Dad... may I ask you something?"

"Uh... of course you may. What is it?" Amethyst said, disturbed slightly by how serious Sombra had gotten all of a sudden.

"Why was mom crying yesterday?" this question struck Amethyst like thunder. He didn't know what to say, how to react. Deep inside he knew it had been his fault. But how could one explain it to a child?

"Why are you asking that? She wasn't crying," Amethyst lied, trying to bluff his way out.

"No, she was. I could clearly see the water under her eyes. She was crying!" Sombra said, sounding more concerned than a child should.

"Don't say stupid things, Sombra. She wasn't crying. Maybe something got in her eye, I don't know, you know how it goes," Amethyst snapped, raising his voice, and Sombra looked at him with disbelief, but said nothing. Maybe he had said it a bit too loud, but still, he couldn't tell Sombra the truth.

After eating up the last sandwich, the kid silently got up from his chair and went back to his room. Amethyst rubbed his forehead, trying to drive away the feeling of guilt which had appeared from nowhere. It seemed like the kid took that shouting really close to the heart.

Great, just great. The headache was getting more and more severe – this wouldn’t be easy. No matter how much he assured himself everything would be alright, he knew it couldn’t. He was stuck here with his own child that he didn’t know how to handle.

He approached the window and looked outside. The sun was high up in the sky, with white clouds crossing and hiding it once in a while. The street looked welcoming and fresh, and Amethyst felt that sensation of beauty. On such a perfect day, nothing could go wrong. The nature wouldn’t allow it.

He reverted to his yesterday game of gambling for a second. He had been at one table with two thugs, and some gentlecolt with a top hat. The two seemed to be friends, but they certainly did love to fight against each other. The pony with the hat on the other hoof was cold, rational, and surprisingly polite. In the end, they all lost their money to him. Amethyst suspected he’d cheated: he’d been way too suave for a regular visitor of the den. Now, he absolutely knew that guy had been cheating. Even the flickering of the sun agreed with him as it touched his eyes, making him blink.

Suddenly, a very interesting thought crossed his mind. He knew where Willemite put the money, and Sombra seemed like a very independent kid. He might just take a little bit of cash, and go win back all the gold he had lost yesterday. He just felt like today was the day to do it, the day to win everything. He felt great, the sun was shining, and the lady luck was on his side.

On the other hoof, there was still Willemite. What if she came back home early and noticed he was missing? No, that wouldn’t happen; he'd be back very soon, in a moment's notice.

He silently agreed with this, maybe a bit risky, but a good plan. Amethyst decided to wait until noon, give Sombra some dinner, and head out. Today, everything would change. From this day on, his family would no longer need to worry about finances. He would win, and he would redeem himself in the eyes of his beloved wife and son.

A perfect plan. Nothing could go wrong.

***

"Take care, Sombra. I'll be back soon. Don't trash the place while I'm away!" the sarcastic voice of Amethyst reached the young unicorn's ears, followed up by the bang of the closing door. He didn't react to this, and just went back to his drawing. He didn't know where his father went and why, but those questions didn't bother him very much: he wanted him to leave anyway.

Why did he need to shout? Sombra just asked a simple question. There had been no reason to get angry. The look on Amethyst face was just like he was about to tear him in half.

"You don't have to be so mean," Sombra whispered to himself, wrapped the pencil in the grey energy and slowly moved it closer to himself. Today, he felt like drawing something special. He loved adventures, but constant dragons, battles, and stuff like this started to bore him. He looked for some other images in his mind, images that were worthy of being imprinted on paper.

While Sombra was pondering about this important-for-his-childish-mind problem, a small bird landed on the sill of his open window and took a quick look around his room, probably searching for food. Its tiny wings were carefully folded, and it periodically tapped the sill with its beak, eating up the remains of bread that Sombra had once eaten thereover, while sitting there. The quiet taps made him turn around and carefully observe the easily scared creature.

The bird jumped from place to place several times, and suddenly stopped, looking directly at Sombra. Its small eyes, by some unknown reason, reminded him of Willemite’s. They were just as brown and expressive as her eyes, though not as big. The bird's body looked weak and fragile, it seemed like even a gentle push could break every small bone in its body.

The creature spread out its wings and took flight, lifting itself from the sill and flying deeper into Sombra's room. The door to the rest of the house was closed, so there was no way for the bird to reach the kitchen.

It flapped its wings, flying right under the ceiling, looking for a way out. Its quick movements were almost unnoticeable, too quick to be registered in pony's sight. Sombra awed in amazement at this miracle – a living bird, in his room. It had never happened before. He had never seen an animal so close to him. Mother never took him to the zoo, since there wasn't enough money, and he always dreamt of seeing an animal in flesh, not on a picture.

Sombra stood completely still, as the bird slowly descended and landed right on the table. In several hops it reached a small glass of water that stood just by the wall. After taking a few small sips, it flapped its wings and flew up into the air again, and, in just several seconds, it was gone with the wind. Young Sombra stood, amazed by the beauty and grace of the bird. It looked so real and natural, flowing like water through the channel. The picture of this bird was stuck in his head, and he quickly picked up a pencil with his magic, and began to draw. First, there was a mess of lines, but slowly it formed into something recognizable. Consumed by this enthralling work, Sombra lost count of time and his own needs, paying no attention to the things happening around him. Minutes became hours, and time went on, but he continued drawing, no matter what.

***

"Ugh, where is this damn thing?" Willemite grumbled, digging through a pile of books. Her mane was disheveled and dusty, and several small bleeding cuts were now outfitting her face. Her haste didn't concern the edges of the books one bit – they still cut her. She leaned over a bit more, and felt a biting pain in her cheek, then a trail of cold, forming and running down. The annoyance and anger started getting out of control.

"You stupid son of a...!" Willemite growled at the book, that had so rudely cut her, but she held back the emotions and just rudely moved it away. She had to find that stupid encyclopedia for Night Spark, or else the hours of her whining would stay in her ears for all eternity.

The look on Amethyst's face was still haunting her sight: this annoying, confused look that asked if he had done something wrong.

Of course he’s done something wrong! That stupid moron, what was he thinking as he wasted so much money on his addiction? How could it get any worse?! She ranted on in her mind.

Suddenly, she felt something rubbing against her flank, something stiff and scratching. Willemite was about to jump out of this pile, but a calm voice reached her ears.

"I think you're looking for this," the sound of Star Gem’s voice reached her ears. "Sorry for the interruption, if you were busy, though."

Willemite quickly got out of the pile and turned round, looking at him with surprise and a bit of shock. He stood right next to her, smiling innocently and holding the book aloft with his magic.

Willemite felt her cheeks turning red, and her heart speeding up.

"You know, there are some parts of a mare you shouldn't touch without her permission!" she said in an angry voice.

"Sorry, I'm sorry. Couldn't find a better way to get your attention," he apologized, and moved the book closer to Willemite's face. "Is this the book you were looking for?"

"Yes, it is," Willemite said, calming down and taking the book. It was just the encyclopedia that Night Spark had ordered her to take. "How did you know?"

"Ah, I know what my sister has to study. She can never process the material herself so she needs this book... Oh, my, your face. Just a second, Willemite, I'll bring you a towel," Star Gem said, dashed to the left, and disappeared behind the bookshelf. Willemite looked at him in confusion. Just what exactly was wrong with her face?

Several seconds later, he returned and, without any warning, carefully rubbed her face with the white piece of cloth. When he was done, Willemite saw several crimson stains on the towel.

"Stupid books!" Willemite grumbled out loud, realizing just how many cuts she got from diving into that pile. "Excuse my language, sir... Argh!"

She finally snapped, anger and frustration taking over her mind, as she swiped away the pile, scattering the books all over the floor. The innocent look on Amethyst's face, his excuses, and his constant demands. It had all piled up on her mind like a giant mountain of metal that was ready to bring down the shaky foundation of her calmness at any moment. She fell down on her knees and struck the floor with her head. The sudden bang startled Star Gem.

"By the Emperor; Willemite, don't do that!" he said in a scared voice and quickly approached her, carefully putting his hoof on her shoulder.

"Sorry... I'll clean everything up... I just need a little time to calm down," Willemite replied, trying to hide her face from Star Gem.

"Who cares about this, I am worried about you! You could have hurt yourself!" he said, carefully moving Willemite's mane away, trying to see her face. His soul ached with sorrow when he saw her big watery eyes.

"I... I'll clean it up..." she continued to mumble, as her voice shook and became quieter. Suddenly, she lost all mind and started crying out loud like a small child who just got hurt. Her sobbing and screaming was like a knife to Star Gem's soul, cutting it piece by piece.

"Willemite... relax... That was just a stupid joke. I'm sorry, I really am," he said, thinking that the reason for her grief was his idiotic action with the book. "Don't cry, please, I beg you."

He carefully wrapped his front hooves around her neck and rubbed his cheek against hers, trying to comfort her in any way he could. Her tears felt like pieces of ice on his cheek when one ran down Willemite's face. Though this was quite rude, but Star Gem felt that Willemite needed somepony nearby, close to her. He might not be the closest friend of hers, but they still were friends.

She finally stopped sobbing, and was now just sitting on the floor, crying silently.

"Willemite... there's no need to cry. It was a stupid joke by a stupid fool. I'm sorry... Forgive me, please. I won't do that again, I promise with my life," he whispered quietly into her ear, carefully caressing her other cheek with his hoof, wiping away the tears.

"It's not you... it's just—" Willemite uttered, before bursting into loud crying yet again. All this pressure, all these problems, her whole life – it was too hard for her to handle and this stupid book was the last drop into the already overfilled cup.

"There, there. Calm down. Just calm down. No need to cry. Nothing bad happened, everything will be alright," Star Gem continued to coo soothing words, and it began to work. The crushing grief started to fall back, letting go of Willemite, allowing her to finally silence herself. Slowly, she turned her head to Star Gem and pierced his soul with her glare. For a second he just stared into this abyss that was filled to the brim with waters of sadness.

"I'm really sorry I disappointed you so much... I really am," Star Gem said, still thinking it was his fault. He, however, was proven wrong when Willemite encased him in a tight hug, pressing him against herself as hard as she could. Star Gem was shocked for a moment, trying to figure out what is going on.

"It's not your fault... Not your fault—" she whispered, putting her head on Star Gem's shoulder. "Just please... don't drive me away... please... It's just so much for me, so much..."

Star Gem didn't understand what she meant, but he still nodded to her, allowing her to rest on his shoulder. He might not know all her problems, but he sure knew that she just needed a friend now. And... probably somepony else.

He rubbed his cheek against hers, feeling her short fur tickling his skin. Her warm breath breezed over his neck, leaving tiny particles of water. Star Gem suddenly got this strange feeling of intimacy, of attraction. This moment was special for both him and Willemite, for it meant that they were becoming something much more, not just friends.

She trusted him. She trusted him enough to let him hug her. Wasn’t that a sign of something bigger? Wasn’t that the sign of their relationships moving beyond those of a nanny and her charge? Star Gem moved so close to her lips he could almost feel their warmth. Just one movement... He wanted to kiss her so bad. He wanted to merge with her in a fiery kiss. He had enough of the pain and suffering in these eyes. He wanted to see pleasure, passion, lust! Anything but sorrow.

Star Gem slowly tickled her back, and delved his right hoof into the cascade of her hair. It was so soft and fuzzy; he just wanted to sleep on that mane like on a pillow. The sound of her heartbeat was so close, and yet, it still could be even closer. They hadn't yet reached a limit. There was still room for expanding.

"I understand..." Star Gem whispered to Willemite, soaking the remains of her tears with his own fur. The vague memories of his own mother came to his mind: how they played together, had dinners together, walked through the park together. They did everything together...Everything... They were the best friends other ponies could not even hope to become. All other ponies, even his sister, even his father paled in comparison to his beloved mommy.

"I understand everything..." he said, and, as quiet as he possibly could, he whispered, "Mother."

"Thank you, Star Gem... Thank you," Willemite said in a soft voice, obviously having not heard his whispers. "You've been such a good friend to me all this time... Despite that I am nothing to you; you still show mercy and compassion to me. Thank you."

They sat like this for ten minutes, and with each second, the passion inside Star Gem burned stronger and stronger. However, it was soothed by something else. Maybe it was his inner conscience, maybe something else, but it made him decide that it wasn’t the time yet to reveal his true feelings. He would, at some point, but not now. Right now, Willemite needed some rest. She had suffered enough.

"Go home, Willemite. You need to rest. I'll finish up all the chores for you, don't worry about that. Just go and have a pleasant rest," he said, and Willemite looked at him right in the eyes. He was pleased to see notes of happiness in them.

"Thank you so much..." she said, with her voice still trembling.

Poor mare, what had happened to her that would reduce her to such a state? He wondered. It was just monstrous.

Willemite pulled herself together and got up, preparing for the trip home. She just wanted to enter her house, hug Sombra, and prepare something tasty for him. Maybe buy some ice-cream while on her way. Yes, she’d do that. Some ice-cream and the life would become much greater. She still had friends, she still had family, and she still had her son. Everything would be good, eventually.

In just several minutes, Star Gem was left alone to deal with the mess Willemite's tantrum had caused. It was a lot of busy work, but he didn't regret his decision – there could be no sweeter task than helping out the one you love.

Cold

One final line and the tail of the bird was complete. Sombra leaned backwards and looked at the picture. It was still incomplete, with the bird still requiring the head and the upper half of the body, but the legs, the tail, and the wings were already complete. He had put much effort into outlining the figure of the creature and the details. He thought it looked pretty neat as it was, and it would look even better when complete. Sombra just couldn't wait to show it to mother and father. Their jaws would undoubtedly hit the floor in amazement. That idea made Sombra giggle.

A slam of the door disturbed the young unicorn and he realized that somepony just entered the house. Probably his father, he said he would return quite soon. Sombra quickly jumped off the chair and ran to meet him, hoping to live down that bad talk they had had in the morning. Besides, even though he was busy all this time, he started to feel a bit lonely when he just looked out of the window at the birds playing in the sky, or insects that flew and crawled in the dirt.

To Sombra's surprise, it was his mother with a small cup of ice-cream flying nearby wrapped in a green aura. She looked bright and happy, with the smile that made him instantly feel better.

"Hello there, dear," Willemite said, approached Sombra and kissed him on the forehead. "I've brought something for you."

With those words, she passed the cup of ice-cream to him. Sombra licked it –strawberry. He loved eating strawberries, and strawberry ice-cream was twice as good. He quickly started licking it, despite the cold.

"Where's daddy?" his mother suddenly asked, and Sombra froze for a second. She had seemed pretty angry with Amethyst yesterday. What if she didn't want him to leave today, and if she found out, would she be very angry? He didn't know what to say and just continued eating the ice-cream.

"Uh... Yes.... He just...left for a minute. He'll be back soon," Sombra said. He didn't want to lie to his mother, but he couldn't disappoint her by telling the truth. If she found out, she would cry and be mad again, and that’d be terrible. He had to do everything in his power to prevent that.

"Hmm, alright. I'll make lunch while he's gone then. Have you been having fun?" Willemite asked, and Sombra sighed. Thankfully, she had believed him.

"Yes, it was very fun. I saw this pretty bird, and then decided to draw it. I'm almost done," he said, following his mother to the kitchen. She quickly opened the refrigerator, which was powered by special crystals that were charged with the elemental magic of ice. Almost everything cool in Empire was created thanks to these crystals. Their ability to store and even multiply energy was amazing.

"Oh, that's beautiful. I'll hang it near the entrance when you're done. You should really draw more nature, you're very good at it," Willemite said, looking for ingredients that she could turn into lunch. Soup or fried bread? she wondered idly.

Behind this sudden happiness and love she felt towards the whole world, she couldn't notice that Sombra constantly blushed. Whenever she looked at her son, he tried to shield himself from her, to pretend he'd be too busy eating the ice-cream, so that she wouldn't see the lie in his eyes. Mothers always see the lies in the eyes of their children. It was just a common rule that Sombra knew since he was little.

"Yeah... okay, good. I'll... be in my room for now, while you wait for dad," Sombra said, and he was glad that Willemite didn’t turn around to face him.

"Good idea. And then we will all have lunch, what a great idea!" she rejoiced, making some sort of a special dish for today's meal, so Sombra didn't want to interrupt her any longer. He just finished the ice-cream and went back to his room, hoping that father would return soon and that everything would resolve without shouting today.

As he closed the door of his room, he returned for a second to the scandal of yesterday. The sound of his mother’s screaming was just deafening, even in his room. Yes, he had heard every second of it, except for what his father had answered: he’d been far too quiet. Understanding nothing of the conflict, he had tried asking his mother, and yet, not a thing had been revealed to him. Maybe I'd be better off not knowing, Sombra thought to himself.

While waiting for Amethyst, he decided to take a peaceful stroll towards the open window and look out to witness the beauty of the nature, and maybe look at the sunset. It usually sat on the other side of the horizon, but maybe, just maybe, the sun would choose to go down on the other side for once.

The wind was quite cool as the sun was going down on the same side it always did. But this didn't disappoint Sombra one bit. He just enjoyed the view of the scenery instead. Even though it was pretty urban, unclean, and uninteresting, he still enjoyed leaning out of the window to look at the world around, like all children.

The chilly air filled his lungs, tickling his throat and nose as he looked out of the window, holding himself from falling. The windowsill was quite sturdy, and Sombra was strong and smart enough in order not to fall over it. Besides, the fall could earn him only a few bruises, nothing to worry about.

The sky was slowly turning from blue to crimson as the sun went down, reminding Sombra of the color of those rare leaves of trees that he and his mom passed by in the autumn. He never missed a chance to grab a pile of these and throw them high above the ground, making it rain yellow, orange, and red. Willemite would always let out a chuckle when he did that and said that she used to be just like this when she was little.

He really loved his mom, but she was more than just his mother to him. Willemite was always with him in his time of need, whenever he needed her, she was there, while father could leave at any moment just like today. When he asked, she always helped, always lend a hoof, always had kind words for him. They always looked so bright walking on the street together: Willemite, the happy mother with big brown eyes, and her little son, Sombra, her 'black sparrow' as she liked to call him, for the dark colors the nature had given him. He didn't know why it had to be a sparrow and not some other animal, but he didn't question her logic. It was still a compliment.

The view of the sunset filled Sombra's soul with peace, an unusual guest in the child's heart which always thirsted for action and movement. It made him feel at peace as he watched the environment, feeling the cold breeze sweep through his mane. His mind was full of memories; he witnessed them one by one, smiling all the way.

In such an atmosphere, he didn't notice the approaching shroud of night as it slowly filled the sky, pushing away the crimson color of sunset. So much time spent just thinking, watching the nature and breathing in the fresh air. Sombra was really surprised – it happened so rarely to him, this philosophical state. One day, he descended into thoughts on what to eat, and turned up looking for the reason of life. He could get lost in his thoughts for hours.

It started to get late, and Sombra started to worry. It didn’t seem that father had returned yet, and these weren’t good news. He quickly turned away from the window and headed towards the kitchen, afraid of what he was about to see.

He slightly opened the door and peeked inside. His eyes started to adapt to the half-darkness when he saw Willemite still sitting at the table, looking around happily. Even though it started to get dark, she still sat there and waited with an eager look on her face. Something had really lifted her mood up. She seemed so happy.

"Please, dad, come home already. Please!" Sombra quietly prayed. If he saw mom cry once again, he wouldn’t know what he’d do then. Maybe break something.

***

The darkness was reigning both outside and inside of the house. Only the dim light from outside his room seeped through the gap between the door and the floor. Sombra squeezed his blanket tighter. There was no sleep in his eyes, only endless worry.

The thoughts kept him awake, and he could only watch the shadow of his mother slowly walk back and forth in the corridor, sometimes uttering some words that he could not understand. Amethyst still hadn’t returned yet, and with each second the sounds of hoof steps got more and more... nervous. Sombra carefully lifted his head from the pillow and peeked through the window. The moonlight was making everything outside look mysterious and scary, but he hoped to notice the figure of a pony approaching the house slowly. But no matter how hard Sombra stared into the nightly darkness, he could see nothing.

He slowly turned away from the window and sighed heavily. He felt so guilty about lying to mother now. He should have told the truth. But he couldn't just say that Amethyst had gone for some of his own business in the middle of the day and hadn't come back. That would infuriate Willemite, and, worst of all, make her feel sad. Sombra was ready for any lie to prevent Willemite from being sad.

Suddenly, he heard the creak of the door. It felt weak and far away; it had to be the front door.

On one hoof, Sombra was really glad that his father finally made it back, on the other, he was afraid of what was about to happen. He closed his eyes and tried to force himself asleep, ordered himself to descend into the realm of dreams, but to no avail. All the tiredness and desire to sleep evaporated like morning mist when he heard mother's furious voice crying, "Idiot! Moron! Imbecile! Fool!"

"How can you be so reckless?! How can you be so stupid?! I knew desks that are smarter than you!" Willemite's voice shook the air like roaring thunder. Amethyst responded quietly and shyly, Sombra couldn't hear him at all.

"You worthless, good-for-nothing piece of trash! How could a pony like you even be born?! Just why were the gods so cruel to send me such a husband!" Willemite continued to punish her husband with cruel words. Even though Sombra couldn't see him, he could imagine how Amethyst would look like right now: small, pathetic, like a weak kitten that laid wounded before a raging wolf which barked at it.

"You think only how to fill your own damn belly and then rob me of my hard-earned money! You are a parasite on my body, sucking out the life! I am trying to help you, you stupid buck, and what do you do in return? You try to kill me! You try to smother me while I try to feed you! How could I even marry you?!" her words were harsh, like sword thrusts through the weak armor that Amethyst had tried to put on with his weak whispers, crushing it entirely and piercing his very soul.

"You are the bane of my existence. You punish both me and my son with your arrogant ego! Do you ever think about him?" she made a small pause, probably expecting an answer. "Don't you stare on the floor, you coward! Look at me, and tell me: do you ever think of Sombra, of your own son, of your pride, of your legacy?"

The answer was silence.

"Don't have anything to say? I do: no, you don't! You don't love him, you don't even hate him! You are indifferent to your son's fate, his life! What kind of a father are you?"

"Shut up! I do care, I am worried about him! I can take everything you have to say, but don't you dare to say that I don't care about my own son!" Amethyst finally gathered his anger and courage to stand up in a fight where he was clearly not the righteous one.

"Oh, you say that right now, but what will happen tomorrow? The same thing that happens every damn time! You don't care about Sombra, you don't. All you care about is getting your stupid ass to the gambling den to waste the money that is supposed to be spent on my child!"

"Willemite, don't push me! This is too much! Just stop, this is enough!" Amethyst said between gritted teeth, slowly starting to boil inside.

"No! I am not going to stop! I was silent for far too long! You aren't a father, Amethyst! You are scum! You are nothing! You want your son to starve to death? Fine! Go, we don't need you. I shall raise him on my own. And he will turn out a much better person than you, worthless trash, ever were, you hear me? Sombra deserves a better father than—" her words were interrupted by a loud slap. Then the sounds of something hitting the wooden floor shook the stale air. Sombra let out a quiet sob. He didn't like the sound of that at all. What had happened out there? What was happening? It sounded so scary!

There was nothing but silence for a good five minutes.

"Oh... I see now... I understand everything now..." the quiet voice of Willemite, not nearly as loud and threatening as before, spoke up. Notes of sadness and dying rage could be noticed in this tone.

"Willemite...I— I am sorry... I didn't want to—" Amethyst stuttered in a trembling voice but was quickly interrupted.

"Go away. Leave me alone."

"Please, dear, let me—"

"Go away from me! Don't even come near me or my son anymore, you... you bastard!" the rage and sorrow was mixed into one horrid tone that made Sombra cringe from fear and pain in his soul.

"I'm... sorry... Alright. I'll sleep outside, okay? Just let me... grab a few things," Amethyst whispered, and then silence claimed dominion. Sombra didn't hear anything else besides hoofsteps and rustling. But even though it was finally quiet, he couldn't close his eyes for the rest of the night. His heart pounded fast, and his mind came up with horrible images of what could have happened between them. Fear took hold of him and never let go until the first rays of the sun fell upon his cheeks.

***

Sombra was sitting at the table, trying not to smash the desk with his face and fall asleep. His eyelids seemed as heavy as metal, and the pounding in his head would not stop. The echoes of the nightmare that happened this night were still making him shudder as he reached for the cup of cold water. Willemite helped by lifting the cup up in the air and placing it right in front of Sombra. When the glowing green aura around the cup dispersed, he quickly grabbed it and poured the cold water inside himself. Even though it was quite refreshing, it didn't drive away the sleepiness.

"Sombra, are you feeling alright? You look a bit sick," Willemite said, approaching her son and kissing him on the forehead, trying to check his temperature. Sombra didn't even respond in any way.

"No, the temperature's normal, then why do you look so pale?" she asked, looking into his eyes, and Sombra turned away, trying to hide his face. If she even dropped a glance into his eyeballs, she'd immediately know what was going on. And then she would feel sad again. Sombra didn't want that to happen. He was ready to forget the nightmare, even if it meant holding everything inside him.

"I... I didn't sleep to well... Birds sang too loudly... I couldn’t sleep," he replied, trying to keep his voice as firm as possible. His mother seemed to believe him, and only ordered him to close the windows every time he went to sleep from now on. Thank goodness Sombra managed to avoid getting read like every other time he had tried to lie to his mother. But all those times were for fun or for gambit, out of interest. Now, he was deceiving her to keep her happy, to protect her. There was nothing wrong with lying if it meant making someone he loved happy, he figured.

"Still, I don't like the color of your face. You should stay at home today, alright? I'll ask for a day off today, and try to come back as soon as I can," Willemite said, and Sombra nodded silently. He wanted her to stay at home for the rest of the day, but what could he do? If Misty Pearl felt merciful today, it would happen. Sombra hoped that Star Gem would help her.

"Good boy. You'll just have to wait for a little bit. Don't let in any strangers. Especially the one who's sleeping beside our door!" Willemite said, pronouncing the last phrase a little louder than necessary. Sombra wanted to stand up for his father, say that he was alright all that time alone and that nothing could have happened, but quickly shut himself up, knowing that his mother was a little bit on edge right now, and any word he’d say might drive her to the point of fury he had felt at night yesterday.

Sombra was afraid to guess what had happened that night. So many scary thoughts came into his mind when he tried to imagine. Even though it was clear that Amethyst did something wrong, Sombra knew that he had to do something to establish peace between mom and dad.

Amethyst had spent the night outside, sleeping just by the door. Sombra thought he heard him saying something while lying in his bed and it scared him even more. When mother left, he would let his father in. No matter what happened before – this just wasn’t right.

Several minutes later, Willemite left, leaving a good pile of food for Sombra to eat while she'd be gone. It might be overkill, but she didn't want to take any chances. The face she made when passing by the sleeping Amethyst was unforgettable: an expression of pure disgust and contempt. Sombra made sure Willemite was out of sight when he approached the snoring Amethyst.

"Dad... Dad, wake up. Dad!" Sombra bumped his father in the side. The blanket was barely covering him. The poor pony seemed to have been lying like this the whole night. And even though it was still quite warm, the autumn was slowly making its way towards the empire. At nights, it got a little frosty.

"Huh... ugh... what?" Amethyst murmured, shaking his head and looking around confused. "Sombra? What... time is it?"

Sombra innocently looked around and looked back at his father.

"It's morning."

"Huh, okay, I take your word for it," he said, letting out a giggle. For a moment they just stared at each other.

"Dad, you should really go back into the house. It's quite... cold," Sombra said, shuddering from a sudden breeze that touched his skin.

"Oh, no, no. I can't, your mother is very angry with me... Very, very angry," Amethyst replied, turning sad. "I better stay outside for a while, until she calms down."

"Dad, she's not at home now. Come inside and grab something to eat. Mother said she'll be back very soon, and then we all can have a talk," Sombra gestured for Amethyst to use him as support so he could get up.

"Sombra, she is very angry with me. I don't think she'll listen. But... if you think it should happen, it will. Thank you," he said, and Sombra felt something warm in his chest. He silently forgave his father for the things that happened yesterday, realizing that it was nothing to be angry about, and led him to the kitchen where the food was waiting. Amethyst had to be pretty hungry after all.

***

"Son... I need to talk seriously with you," Misty Pearl said, approaching his son from behind. This startled Star Gem as he quickly turned round, looking at his father with confusion.

The light of the morning sun shone though the fancy window and into the library where Star Gem, up until this point, was looking through the bookshelves and read peacefully.

"Agh, you scared me there. Well, alright then. Let's talk," he replied, closing the book and putting it back on its place. After that, he and Misty Pearl proceeded to the two nearest chairs.

"I wanted to talk about your... mother," the older one began, and Star Gem raised an eyebrow. Misty Pearl had never even mentioned his mother before, let alone talked about her by his own wish. This couldn’t be good.

"Alright... you don't tend to talk about her too often," stated Star Gem, and Misty Pearl reacted quickly.

"Because there is a reason. I don't do things without good reasons," he replied harshly. Star Gem smirked. That was the father he was used to: harsh, cold, emotionless and very avaricious.

Some say that opposites attract each other. That was the case of Star Gem’s mom and dad. Misty Pearl was very cold and logical, while his wife was mostly led by feelings and emotions, and thus, was a much more pleasant company.

Star Gem remembered how ardently she used to cuddle him when he was small. She would just press his head right against her chest, right into the soft fur she had, and stroke his mane and his back slowly and carefully. Every time she did that, she would also sing a lullaby or just try to imitate the purring of a cat. It had always lulled Star Gem, at least.

"Yeah, of course. So, is there something you wanted to tell me? Or do you have questions? Because I would rather go back to reading, honestly," Star Gem said, without fear of offending his father. They didn't get along that well anyway; why start trying now?

"I wanted to ask you: how do you remember her?" Misty Pearl went on, completely ignoring the rude suggestions of his son. Star Gem quickly delved into his mind, digging up the best things he remembered about the mare of his heart.

Tender, soft, beautiful – there just weren't enough words in the dictionary to describe her. A mare with eyes as deep as two huge oceans and with hooves so soft and comforting that they felt like two small pillows. Her mane was often used by Star Gem as a bed, for when she fell asleep, she would sometimes spread it all around. The colt would find his mother asleep, and just lay down beside her, wrapping his weak body in her curls.

Star Gem would never misbehave, for seeing his mother sad was like a slice through his heart. Whenever there was a possibility, he made presents for her, sometimes bringing her the things he would find on the street and considered valuable. She would always accept it with a smile, no matter what junk he brought. He had tried bringing gifts to his father once, and earned such an annoyed and disappointed look that he had never tried that again since.

Father and mother – for most families, it seemed alright for them to sleep in one bed. But Star Gem always considered it wrong. He and mother spent so much together, playing, walking around, drawing, or learning to read and write, and yet, he didn't get the chance to be with her all the time. Whenever he had to go to bed, he almost cried, for it meant being separated from his beloved mother for the whole night. That was just plain unacceptable! He always wanted to sneak into his parents' bedroom, push Misty Pearl out of the bed, and lay down beside his mother.

He also dreamt of kissing her. Even though she kissed him a lot, it didn't make Star Gem feel complete. Being on the receiving end of the kiss was good, it felt great, but the most beautiful thing in the world was sharing, and he wanted his mother to feel that joy too. Just an innocent kiss on the cheek, gentle caressing of her mane and that was all. That was everything that was needed to set up a good mood for the day for Star Gem.

"I remember her fondly. Why do you ask?" he answered his dad's question, unwilling to share of his memories in detail.

"Hmpf... Just fondly? Are you sure?" Misty Pearl asked, starting to sound irritated.

"Of course I am sure. I'm not stupid. I know how I remember my own mother!" Star Gem said quite loudly.

His father sighed heavily and cleaned the sweat from his forehead.

"Yes, you two shared a special connection. Why was I asking, you say? The anniversary of her death is at hoof — prepare for a visit to the memorial. Just wanted to inform you," Misty Pearl concluded and left the library quickly. Star Gem sneered cynically. His father was such an unbelievable asshole. He had never loved his wife and his children. They all looked like big piles of money to him.

Even during the anniversary of her death, when Star Gem and Night Spark tried to maintain some sort mourning, he always left the house to party with his friends. It just so happened that mother had died in her bed, alone, while Misty Pearl went away to visit his aunt for her birthday. He never missed it because she was very rich, and even after such a tragedy happened, he continued to leave Crystal City at the same day. The fact of him reminding Star Gem about the anniversary was basically his way of saying: "I'm leaving for the birthday, kids! Have fun!"

And even this cryptic talk about how Star Gem remembered his mother could hide nothing; Misty Pearl was jealous. Jealous, because mother had loved her son more than her husband. He had never treated her right, never bought her presents – so what else did he expect of her?

Star Gem knew his mother had always loved him and Night Spark, but, somewhere deep down in his heart, he knew she had loved him most of all. They had shared so many moments together that it was difficult to remember. But there was one special moment that Star Gem would always keep in his heart.

He had been about seven years old, just lying in his bed. It was almost midnight, and he was about to close his eyes and sleep, when she entered the room and carefully and quietly laid down right beside him. Star Gem was greatly surprised. He wanted to immediately ask her what was going on, but kept quiet. He decided to watch and listen silently for what she was going to do.

She laid down right behind and hugged him, carefully, afraid to wake him up. Her soft fur tickled Star Gem's belly, and he barely held back from giggling. Then she got so close to his ears, he could hear and feel her breath on his cheek. It was warm, a bit wet too.

"My dear, sweet child," she whispered, probably thinking that Star Gem couldn’t hear her now. "Are you the only stallion who loves me?"

Star Gem froze. He didn't understand what she meant at all. The only stallion who loved her? There was his father, what was she talking about?

"Why am I cursed this way? Why am I stuck with a husband who pays no attention to me whatsoever? You're the only one I can talk to, Starey," she called him like that very often, sometimes forgetting that Star Gem was growing up and was no longer a small child. "You're the only one who listens."

Star Gem listened carefully. His mother hadn't bothered him with her problems ever before. Did that mean that she came at night, like this, and this wasn’t the first time?

"It sucks that you don't understand me – you're still too small for this. But in just a few years, you'll make mommy happy. Am I right, my precious?" she said a tone that made Star Gem feel very weird. She had never talked like that to him before. Her voice sounded so different all of a sudden. Every word, every letter was dragged out, crawling closer and closer unto him. Finally, Star Gem's back was completely covered by her and she playfully bit his ear like a small mosquito. He couldn't understand what she was doing, but it felt so funny, making him all fuzzy inside.

"Just a few years, Starey. Just a few more years," she whispered quietly.

A few minutes later, she left him, left him with this fuzzy feeling still raging inside of him. What and why were the questions that were whirling in his head at that time. He wondered what his mother had in mind, and what did she mean by waiting a few more years? Unfortunately, he was forever left to guess.

Next year, before Star Gem turned eight, his mother gave her soul away unto the gods. It was painful to watch. She became so lifeless and motionless; she rarely blinked; her voice became quiet and sad. She withered slowly right before her children, but Misty Pearl didn't start to pay more attention to her. In fact, he even stopped noticing her.

Star Gem remembered the day she died. She had called for him, and then, without saying anything, kissed him on the forehead. After that, there had been no more warmth from her body – only deadly cold.

Now that he was a teenager, Star Gem could understand what his mother wanted from him that night, but he fiercely believed that to be the spawn of his imagination. For him, his mother was always a symbol of purity, too divine for such thoughts. Though, on the other hoof, he still thought quite a lot about the way he was supposed to make her happy.

Now, many things had changed. So many years had passed since his mother had passed away. But finally, Star Gem had found a mare that was so alike to her that it felt like a gift from the heavens. He would do everything in his power to make his new mother happy.

***

Willemite put the book on its place and sat down to catch a breath. Using magic after being awake for half of the night exhausted her to the point of sweating and panting heavily. The bruise on her neck pulsated with pain the moment she touched that part of her body.

She still couldn't believe that this had actually happened. This had gone too far, Amethyst had gone out of control. He had hit her! Well, that she could handle, but that wasn't just a moment of rage. It was a signal. A signal that he could hurt those he loved. If he could hurt her, was there a guarantee that he wouldn’t hurt Sombra too? She didn't know anymore. She couldn't trust him. Maybe it would be better to just leave him behind and move on to find a new house, in another city as far away from here as possible.

Yes, a great idea. She could probably just grab Sombra, and as much money and valuables as she could carry, and leave this dreaded town and her dreaded husband behind, but...

Sombra couldn’t grow up without a father. This just wasn’t right – separating a son from his parent. Willemite clenched her teeth and swore silently, cursing herself and her jackass-of-a-husband for making her do this. Why couldn’t she be stronger and just leave him behind like the useless trash that he was? Maybe because she still loved him, even after all the horror she had gone through. Or maybe she was doing it because she was a responsible parent and didn’t want to separate Sombra from his dad.

Thankfully, Misty Pearl had allowed her to leave earlier today; she just had to sort the books out and she could go back home. Willemite sighed as she placed another book on its rightful place. On one hoof, she wanted to get home, on the other, that meant seeing and talking with Amethyst again.

Ugh, why does it all have to be so difficult?

Suddenly, the sound of soft steps reached her ears. The wooden floor in this library was quite old, and even if someone took great care to remain sneaky, one careless step and the creaking sound would rock the whole room, which, when lifeless, seemed to contain dead silence with only dust floating in the air. Willemite quickly turned around and was relieved to see that it was Star Gem who carefully treaded through the floating dust.

"Oh, it's you, Star. You... startled me a bit there," she said, smiling.

"Heh, sorry. Didn't want to do that. Do you need any help?" he asked, coming closer to Willemite.

"No, I'll be done soon. Sorry, I have to leave early today, so yeah—" she trailed off, not knowing what to say. She moved a little bit away from him, feeling shy because of the blue stain on her neck. She played with her mane a bit, trying to hide it behind the cascade of green hair, though the attempt was to no avail.

"That's alright. We all need some days off... What is that?" Star Gem said in a voice where the rising anger could be read. He caught just a glimpse, but there could be no mistake. It was a bruise.

"I said, what in the living Abyss is that?" he asked again as he approached Willemite and revealed the bruise. His face at that moment was a mix between anger and confusion. A cocktail such as this was never a pleasant sight.

"Umm, it's nothing. What did you see there?" Willemite said, trying to play innocent, and failing horribly. Her big eyes gave her away immediately.

"Please, Willemite, don't do that. Just tell me who did this?"

"How do you know that anypony did this? Maybe I just fell down on the street!" Willemite parried with an unprofessional lie. It was difficult to believe someone who spoke in that kind of a voice.

"Who did this? Just tell me. I'll make sure they suffer!" Star Gem growled, which started to scare Willemite.

"Star, please, as much as I trust you, this is family business. I wouldn't like to wash my dirty linen in public. This isn't your problem, alright?" she tried as hard as she could to keep Star Gem away from her family problems. The boy was young and hot-headed. She dreaded the crazy ideas he might come up with.

"But I am your family, Willemite! I want to help you. Please, mother, let me help you!" Star Gem said loudly, and Willemite was frozen in space and time for a second. What did he just call her?

"Did.... I heard you...right?" she said, making long pauses, still trying to gather her thoughts.

"Yes, you did. I want to help you, mom. I'll do anything for you."

"Star Gem... I'm not... I am not... your mother," Willemite stuttered, slowly backing away from him. Her plan of escape failed when she realized that she was cornered.

"By birth, maybe not. But in spirit, you are. I mean, you look so alike! This mane, though of different color, is just as soft and long! Your skin is tenderer than the best silk! Your eyes are just as deep and pure as hers!" he said, caressing her cheek, as if trying to prove those facts to himself by touching everything. Willemite pressed her back against the bookshelf, trying to distance herself from the boy. But her body failed her as she lost balance and fell right on her behind, basically sitting down right in front of Star Gem. He looked at her with a strange fire in his eyes.

"It was your husband, wasn't it?" he questioned, and Willemite only swallowed nervously. With every second this situation was getting more and more scary. She felt the cold running on her skin, making her tremble.

She said nothing, afraid that he would read her easily again, and just turned away and closed her eyes, hoping that this would give him a signal that this was enough.

Star Gem looked at her. She reminded him of a scared kitten that hid in a dark alley. She closed her eyes and tried to look away, afraid, terrified. But of what? He would cause her no harm, he was sure of that. Maybe these were the thoughts of her tyrannical husband that had dared to raise his hoof on her. This was just unforgivable. How could he harm such a pure and innocent pony, like Willemite? He had to be a true monster to do something like that.

Willemite let out a quiet squeak, as these memories were gnawing at her soul, he thought. She needed to relax, and Star Gem knew a perfect way to help her. No longer should anypony hurt his beloved mother, for he would take her to heaven, grant her bliss and protection from the whole world.

He carefully moved her head with his right hoof, so that she would be facing him, and then kissed her, kissed her just like the adults do it, no more kid's stuff. His mother needed tender, love and care. She had told him to wait just a couple of years, and these years of waiting were long past. It was time for him to make his mommy happy!

Star Gem's grip was firm as he wrapped his hooves around Willemite's body. She couldn't even flinch. She was older, but the boy was far stronger than she in the physical way. His young muscles could easily rival that of her husband, surely. Willemite tried to scream and beg for release, but he squeezed her so strong that she started to suffocate. When he weakened the grip, she tried to start talking, but he quickly ensnared her mouth in a sultry kiss yet again. He pushed her against the bookshelf even harder, and that filled Willemite's soul with fear and horror. Her mind was far too full of pictures of her possible future. None of them was bringing her any kind of hope.

There was no way she could escape from her crazed self-proclaimed son. His tight grip was far too strong, and the insane feelings inside him drove him to take action. She could only close her eyes, and pray that the pain wouldn’t last too long.

***

Pain. Unending pain. That was all Willemite felt when Star Gem finally moved away from her, panting heavily. Pain and shame. These feelings, like curved knives, were slicing through her heart and right into the soul. Her limbs felt weak and numb, she could barely move, only slowly drag herself forward towards the opened door.

She had no idea of what just happened. It was so blurry, so twisted. It all mixed into one dark picture of pain and sin. And every time the remaining parts of her logic explained the situation, she just wished it was nothing but a bad dream, a fever. This was impossible, unconceivable. How could Star Gem do something like this to her?

He was sitting nearby, panting heavily and swiping the sweat away from his forehead. Willemite only managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes, but it was long enough for her to see the happiness on his smiling face.

Terror, confusion, panic. These feelings now took hold of her, as she crawled away from the lunatic. Suddenly, after taking a deep breath, he started to speak.

"Wow... this was something unreal... Whew... Sorry if it felt a little uncomfortable. But... I am not experienced in this at all. In fact, it was my first time ever. The first time is always rough, I heard... But I hope you can teach me a thing or two later about this business. I'm sorry again, if I caused any trouble... I just wanted to make you happy again," he said, making pauses and sighing from time to time. Willemite was scared by his talk at first, and then her tormented body started to fill up with adrenaline as hatred started to boil in her.

Insane. That’s what he was. Totally, completely insane. He did all this to her, and now he thought that it was okay, like this was how it was supposed to be? He thought that he did everything right? Made his 'mother' happy and proud? Made her feel good and comfortable, and he was sorry if anything went wrong, causing her trouble?

"I...ha...te...you," she managed to gargle out the words, as the wad of despair and hatred in her throat didn't allow her to speak clearly. "You...f...freak."

But her moans of hatred were far too quiet for Star Gem to hear, with his ears far too busy with listening to the sound of his own voice. He continued his insane speech while Willemite crawled further and further away from him.

Was this how her life would end? No, probably not. She could live through this physically, but not mentally. She had died the moment Star Gem lost control of his desires. Her soul had died, and the body was sure to follow.

As she crawled out of the door, onto the flight of the stairs, the hatred let go of her, and then sorrow came. There was only one picture forever imprinted in her head: Sombra, her only son. The poor boy didn’t know anything; he was still waiting for her. How could she leave him behind?

With her love for her little son as her only beacon of hope, Willemite arose from the floor and tried to walk down the stairs, paying no attention to the sudden scream Star Gem let out when he noticed that his victim was walking away. She gathered up all her strength and made a step, towards her son, towards her true destiny, and towards her only friend.

The fall... It was quick... Painless... These seconds that Willemite spent falling down the stairs were the brightest moments for the past thirty minutes. The freedom of the fall, the freedom of flight – it was clear to her why wings were so desired by many.

They just want to avoid the landing... The pain Willemite felt when her spine connected with the sturdy wood of the stairs was nothing compared to what Star Gem did to her. But at least the fall was merciful enough to finish her off.

She rolled over on the carpet, leaving a trail of blood from her mouth and split skull. The life, along with her blood, was quickly drained from her body, flowing out onto the beautiful piece of art that was this carpet.

"Sombra... forgive... me—" she quietly uttered, and with every word she spoke a new stream of blood disembogued from her mouth, quickly soaking into the carpet, leaving big crimson stains. She couldn't say anything else, and as the life was about to abandon her fully, she opened her eyes widely, hatred boiling in every fiber of her being.

So much deceit, so much lies! Nothing but lies! Those she trusted had hurt her and killed her. Now, she would be gone, leaving behind the only good thing she had ever created: her little son Sombra. The only pony who had ever understood her. The only stallion who was her true friend.

Before succumbing to death, Willemite gave birth to the last thought in her head, the thought that should be her tombstone, her last gift to this world. This thought was a simple wish, a thirst so common in many ponies, the easiest one in the world, to be frank.

The thirst for vengeance.

Author's Note

The story will be updated weekly every Monday! Don't forget to comment - because I love you! And foal Sombra loves you too!

I Won't Forgive

Just a few seconds ago, Star Gem was swiping the sweat that was flowing down like a waterfall from his forehead. Just a few seconds ago, he could say that he was high up in heaven. Just a few seconds ago, his sanity wasn't fractured into tiny pieces.

His heart skipped a beat, and the temperature of his body seemed to go down so low, the sweat felt like boiling water. His limbs started to tremble and shake as he slowly tried to sit down on the floor, looking down from the flight of the stairs at the bleeding mare right in the center of the carpet. The blood flowed slowly, like mud being pushed forward by wind. His vision started to blur, and his stomach started to rebel against the sight, slowly forming a ball of bile inside of him.

Slowly, Star Gem went down the stairs, never taking his eyes off Willemite. What if she moved, what if she gave at least one sign of life? A twitch of her tail, a slight movement of her hoof? Blinking?

No. She was completely still, with only the sound of crimson drops falling down reaching the young Star Gem's ears. His head and mind were completely devoid of thoughts and images, letting fear and confusion take control.

With every step, his heart was beating faster and faster as the painful realization of the committed crime finally tore through the wall of blind love and desire. It violently ripped into him, tearing through thoughts and memories, aiming for his soul.

He stood just beside Willemite, his eyes wide from horror, and the ball of vomit crawled steadily towards the only way out. Star Gem approached her, still hoping to hear her breathing.

"W–why—" he uttered, as the guilt seeped into him. He realized what he’d done, what abomination he’d turned out to be. Striving to bring joy to the one he loved, he only pleasured himself, giving pain in return. He’d been wrong all along, confused, bewitched by memories, and controlled by desires born way back when he was a child. These desires, like a tumor, had spread and took control of him. And only fresh blood had been able to dissolve it. Fresh, hot blood of a loved one, the blood that he unwillingly spilt.

"I'm...so...sorry—" he uttered, leaning down to her, with his sight getting blurry the closer he got. What had he done?

Suddenly, the image of his little dark-colored struck him right in the mind, and made him jump away from Willemite. The games they played. The fun they had...

His eyes, when he’d find out the truth. His tears, streaming down the burning cheeks as his lips would utter just one word.

"Mother."

Star Gem fell down on the floor, tears sprinkled from his eyes. He started crying like a little child who was injured to the point of bleeding. His cry echoed through the house, alerting its residents, no doubt. Star Gem no longer cared if others found out. It only mattered that Sombra wouldn't find out. If he did... may Star Gem burn in Abyss for all eternity, with demons gnawing on his insides every day.

He had to leave the city as fast he could. He would give Willemite a proper burial in secret, somewhere away from this house, and on his own money. Then he would leave forever and would never return. After what he'd done, Sombra shouldn’t ever meet him again, never hear of him again. He had to disappear from his life and memory... and hopefully, the child wouldn’t find out what happened here and grow up normally... somehow… somehow.

Somehow... it had to turn out well. Star Gem prayed to the gods that it would turn out well. He just had to leave. He would never forgive himself for what he'd done, he might forget, but he would never forgive. He would keep this sin as a reminder to strike him every time he was about to do something stupid ever again.

Somehow... there might still be a chance that things would turn out fine for others. Not for him though. Not anymore.

***

Amethyst stopped tapping the table with his hoof and took a deep breath. Willemite's definition of 'coming home early' certainly seemed to differ from his. The day was drawing to an end, and it became very dark outside. It seemed the weeks of bright and colorful days ended here, giving way for the entrance of the autumn, where the skies were constantly covered with grey clouds that threatened with rain. Small drops had already started pounding on the window, which really got Amethyst out of the tune he was whistling.

Just for how long did she leave? This started to get annoying. Willemite should be home already. What was taking her so long?

Amethyst got up and started walking in circles around the table. All kinds of thoughts came into his mind, from innocent to impossibly idiotic. She could have just decided to rest in a cafe for a bit. Or take the long way back through the park to look around and enjoy the scenery.

He sneered at that idea, so stupid; enjoying the scenery in such darkness especially with the rain. Yes, nice idea.

However, all these thoughts and excuses were all dust compared to that one fear every loving husband had: what if she left? Left forever? Abandoned him, because he caused her too much pain?

Amethyst sighed heavily. There was certainly a lot of pain caused, too much pain. He remembered her eyes after he’d lost control of his emotions. These big eyes, but they hadn’t been filled with tears like other times he’d caused scandals. Instead, they’d been filled with anger, spite. These eyes had clearly told him, "I've had enough."

Amethyst was afraid. Very afraid, though he didn't show it. This was the kind of fear that you couldn’t show. The fear urged him to act and do something, but what could he do? Cook something? Go for a walk? The uncertainty was killing him, tearing him apart. He had to act, now.

"Sombra, I'll go meet your mom. You stay home and wait for me. We'll be back together," Amethyst shouted so his son would hear him. But this time, he really meant it. No more lies. He’d go there, find Willemite, go home with her, and then they’d live happily ever after. The end!

Amethyst grabbed a raincoat from the shelf and quickly put it on, tying the threads so it would hold onto him. This was quite an old raincoat, to be fair; his grandfather used to wear it back when he was alive. The coat had survived many troubles, and it would live through a thousand more, Amethyst was sure of that. So, what could simple rain do to it?

"Okay, dad!" Sombra's voice reached his ears, and he knew that everything was A-Okay. He got Sombra, his son, behind his back. What more could he wish for?

He closed the door behind him, and ventured onward to the rainy shadows, for the rare dim light of the crystal lanterns barely lit the streets. There were no stars. The sky was completely covered in featureless grey clouds. Small cold drops of rain were falling from the sky, making him look down on the ground to avoid getting water in his eyes.

The fact that Sombra really trusted him was baffling. He couldn't explain in words how horrible he’d felt when he showed his cute face on the doorstep, woke him up, and invited him inside. He felt like a complete heartless monster for shouting at him earlier. Even bearing this childish grudge inside (and childish grudges died very hard), he’d still shown compassion to his stupid father. Amethyst felt proud. A very honorable and good pony was growing right in his sight. Maybe his dream would come true, and one day, Sombra would be known throughout the entire empire.

As he carefully stepped over the small puddles, formed just a few hours ago, he wondered what he should say to Willemite. Ask for forgiveness? Most likely. But how would you have to beg in order for a pony to find enough strength to forgive a sin like the one he’d committed? Maybe she had already run away, somewhere far from this city, leaving her loser of a husband behind.

But that was quite unlikely. She couldn’t just leave Sombra behind. He was her only son, and she loved him more than her life. She couldn’t just leave without him. He refused to believe that she’d do, or even consider something like that.

Maybe he didn’t know her that well? He never expected her to start berating him that cruelly yesterday. That was the main reason he snapped. He didn't expect such an assault. His wife did know how to whip him with mere words, but she went far too overboard with that.

And yet... he still felt very guilty. Willemite, no matter how saint-ish she looked, was still just a pony with her own feelings. Amethyst had already caused her so much pain, and maybe that one time was the last drop into the overfilled cup. In any case, this problem was far too complicated than it seemed to him right now, he knew that for sure. He should find his beloved wife, and head home to his beloved son as fast as he possibly could. Only then they could find a way out of this situation; together.

***

Several knocks on the ornamental crystal door echoed in Amethyst's ears like a pleasant change from the beat that the rain was playing by smashing the drops into the puddles. The weather changed from bad to worse as it became even darker, and the rain got stronger, becoming a downpour. The old raincoat, however, didn't fail and kept his body from getting completely soaked in water.

The elegant door opened slowly, revealing a young colt standing before Amethyst. His ivory coat seemed a little bit dim. He was wearing a scarf, which was awkwardly dangling because of the opened door, and also a light trench coat. All of this was hastily thrown on, without proper time spent to button it. It seemed he was in a hurry to leave.

He nervously turned his head around as though he was scared of something. Adding to that, his face looked as if somepony smeared it with flour. He was as pale as a corpse.

"Sorry, milord, do you live here?" Amethyst asked, trying to show respect by bowing his head before saying anything.

The colt looked around hastily. "Yes, I do. What do you want?" he replied quickly and harshly, but his voice was trembling, even though he tried to hide it.

"My wife works in this house. She told me that she would come back soon, but, as you can see, it's almost night. May I see her, please?" Amethyst asked, and the pony suddenly pinned his sight at him.

"Your wife? Willemite, right?" he said, and Amethyst nodded. Suddenly, the colt turned away and sighed heavily as if something was really troubling him.

"No, she hasn't shown up here today at all. Sorry, but I have to go," he said out of nowhere.

"Wait, what? Hasn't shown up at all? That must be a mistake. It is a mistake!" Amethyst said, raising his voice a bit. The cold started filling his limbs, and it wasn't because of the weather.

"No, it isn't. Your wife hasn't shown up today. End of the story. Please, leave. Now," the young pony said in a pretty harsh voice. He wasn't looking at Amethyst, instead preferring to look somewhere to the side.

"O... okay. Sorry for disturbing you," Amethyst said, and walked away, hearing the loud bang of the closing door.

Alright, now he was worried for real. If Willemite didn't show up at work, where could she be? The worst possible outcomes came to his mind, but Amethyst quickly drove them away. His wife was tough, she could handle anypony. Then there was that one dark thought, that filled his veins with ice, and made him swallow nervously. No, she was not like that. Willemite wouldn’t do that. She just couldn’t.

Amethyst decided to check through her favorite cafés and corners in the park, check several of her friends. What if she decided to stay with them? As that failed, he checked the nearest hospitals, as that failed too... he checked the morgues. Hopefully, that would fail, and then, as the last resort, he would look through the nearest stagecoach station, where one could hire himself a transport to any part of the empire, depending on how much money he or she had, and how far away the destination was. But it was quite unlikely that he would need to go there... hopefully.

***

Sombra quickly rushed to the entrance as he heard his father returning. Oh, how worried he’d been. An hour and a half had passed since he left, and the poor child thought Amethyst had decided to visit that strange place he loved to visit. But he was finally here, accompanied by his mother. The world seemed a little bit brighter and the rain became weaker when he heard the creak of the door.

He pushed the door leading to the corridor open and turned towards the entrance, expecting to see his family. Instead, he saw only Amethyst, soaked in water, leaving a wet trail behind; his face was covered in mud and his mane was hanging down like ooze. He lazily cleared the drops that streamed down his face with a swipe of a hoof.

"I know what you're going to ask. No, I don't know where she is. Probably somewhere far away," Amethyst said gloomily, completely shocking Sombra. What did he mean? What was he talking about?

"I— I don't understand! Wha—what do you mean?" Sombra asked, as his voice started to shake, mostly from frustration. He hated being left in the dark.

"She left, Sombra. She just left. Don't ask anymore! I'm not in the mood to talk," Amethyst stated, with his voice getting quieter and quieter.

"Left to where? When will she return? Can't we just follow her?" Sombra continued to press on, but Amethyst gave him such an angry look that he immediately lost all desire to talk.

"She left forever. She left to find another family. She won't come back, nor does she want us to follow her. You probably won't see her anymore!" he said in an angry, but contained voice. He barely held back all the sorrow and rage, he just wanted to tear something into pieces, and Sombra was irritating him so much right now.

Sombra backed away, unable to believe his own ears. He couldn't believe that his mother left them behind, left to find another family. Why? What did they do to her that she’d take such umbrage and leave? What happened on that accursed night?

Continuing to back away, Sombra's sight was all over the place. He looked for a single thing to focus on, and the wooden patterns and the blank rug just irritated him. Suddenly, he noticed that small picture of his on the wall. A drawing he’d made specifically for Willemite's birthday. She’d smiled so widely that day, hugged him and then bought him some ice-cream. Then they’d been to the park for a walk, where they’d played the whole day long until the sun went down, and the moon claimed dominance over the world.

After looking at the sloppy lines, crooked figures, and bad choice of pencils that his mother treasured so much, all the desire to cry inside him, that little annoying worm that ate him away especially strong within children, died. All that was left was confidence and assuredness that his father either didn't know all the truth or was lying. Without further ado, Sombra went back to his room without saying anything. He might be a child, but he wouldn’t sit still when his mother was missing. She might be in danger, and only he could save her now. It was his duty as her son, as the protector and a future husband. What kind of a family pony would he be if he couldn’t protect his own mother?

Sombra entered his room and closed the door behind him. He had to come up with a plan of action. What to do, where to look? He definitely should ask Star Gem for help, but it was almost night and his father was unlikely to go out again. Not that Sombra was afraid of going out on his own – he wasn’t afraid of the robbers and rats that sometimes crawled from house to house. It was just that he didn’t know where to go. As far as he knew, the Crystal City was humongous, and he could easily get lost.

So, the search through the city was not an option. Unfortunately, Sombra couldn't talk to animals like some ponies in the bed time stories his mother once read to him, so asking the nature to help wouldn’t work either. There had to be some way.

Suddenly, a brilliant idea flashed into his mind. He was a unicorn, and that meant he could use magic! Why not use magic to find Willemite? Sombra barely managed to hold back from shouting in joy.

His father, being an ex-professor, kept his books on magic locked safely in his room. Sometimes, he taught Sombra some simple spells, and because of that, the boy remembered where the key was. He only needed to find it, open the box, and find the spell that could help him.

Sombra wasn't much of an egghead, but his reading skills were quite impressive for his age. He didn't mind spending an hour or two reading a good book.

The noise from the kitchen reached his ears, and Sombra approached the door and leaned on it, listening carefully to what was happening. Amethyst was mumbling something from the side of his mouth, the knocking and rattling was just deafening. Then the sound of shattering glass could be heard. Whatever his father was doing there, Sombra should probably stay away, or he'd get caught in the crossfire. He decided to wait until his father left or went to sleep.

Half an hour later, Sombra started to get a little bit bored, when suddenly he heard Amethyst murmuring something while going for the door. Hoofsteps, the bang of the door, and then complete silence. Sombra looked out of his room, making sure that there was nopony home. He glanced briefly into the kitchen, and then made his way to his parents' bedroom.

It was a moderately sized room with a double-bed sitting in the centre, and several cupboards and shelves along the walls. There was also a window with a small crack in the bottom corner. The box, containing the books, was just under the windowsill. Sombra looked through one of the shelves, and quickly found the key.

The chest squeaked a bit when Sombra turned the key. It seemed it hadn’t been opened in quite a while and the metal clenches had gone a bit rusty. After lifting the top, the young boy looked inside at the colorful mish-mash of books. Every single one was of a different color, each corresponded to the type of magic. Sombra had no idea where to start looking, so he decided to look through every single one until he’d find a spell that could help him.

The books piled up in the corner; one after another they were flying away as Sombra got more and more impatient. Nature magic, arcane magic, elemental magic! None of these schools contained spells that could help him. He quickly glanced through several more and threw them away in frustration and anger. The scorn was gathering in his chest as he became angrier and angrier, for the thought that he might not find his mother was terrifying. He couldn't even imagine what he would do without her.

When Sombra approached the chest one more time, he felt a strange burden in his head, like something had just hit him right in his forehead. His vision blurred a bit, and he stumbled over a book on water magic that he’d carelessly thrown onto the floor. When he got back up, rubbing the aching spot, and looked down into the chest, he noticed that there was only one book remaining. Sombra shuddered at the mere presence of this tome.

The black cover, decorated with red lines, representing either veins or lava, tearing through the surface of the earth, was twisted and obscure, the patterns were entwining and coiling, forming faces, distorted by screams and pain. Sombra slowly turned it around and saw the title of this scary book – Scientia Tenebrae.

The boy didn't know what that meant, but he knew what language it was: the Language of Kings. Father told him about it; it was very rarely used, even in the royal family. There were rumors that even Lux couldn’t speak it, though, no proof had been found.

Besides the royalty, this language was widely used by mages and acolytes of magical arts to name the spells and books they wrote. Though most modern spells had their name in common Crystallian, the academics never bothered to translate. And there was one unwritten rule: you could never translate the names of the spells, or name them in modern language, if they belong to the school of dark magic. It was said, that it brought bad luck.

Sombra had never seen this tome before, for his father never showed it to him, and rightfully so. It was pulsating with strange energy waves, like it was enchanted, making Sombra feel dizzy and sick.

Dark magic wasn't banned in the Crystal Empire, every school of magic was allowed. However, heavy restrictions were put on those who wanted to study it. All advanced spells were banned, for dark magic was very specific in nature. It didn’t exist in the usual circumstances, it needed to be created. Most dark mages used their own emotions to create the energy which no other school of magic could do aside from the Crystal Heart. That was another reason why it was heavily restricted. Using yourself as a source of energy could drain you, if you weren’t careful, even outright kill you. Particularly powerful spells required pony sacrifices, or even several. Thus, even the most advanced dark mages only reached the level below medium.

The grey energy wrapped the dark book in its embrace, and lifted it up in the air, slowly carrying it to Sombra. Even after all these stories his father had told him about, he couldn't just back away. It was the only book left, and thus, the only chance for him to find his mother.

By opening the book, the boy released huge clouds of dust into the air. It got into his nose and throat as he started coughing. His father hadn’t touched this thing for quite a long time; none of the other books was this dusty. But this tome wasn’t forbidden. If father had it that meant it had been given to all the professors at the University of Magic. Why was Amethyst avoiding it then?

All these questions made Sombra unsure of what he was doing, but he carried on anyway. He wasn’t a coward. He would save his mother, no matter what. Sombra opened the book and delved into its contents.

While turning page after page, Sombra saw spells and descriptions that made him feel a bit terrified. So many of these spells were focused on causing pain, direct attacks, mind attacks, even summoning illusions, it all had something to do with suffering.

Suddenly, Sombra saw a description of a spell that made him almost jump in place – Visio Aeternum. This spell allowed the user to access the magical streams and transfer their sight into the eyes of another living being, but only if the user had a connection to the subject. Otherwise, it wouldn’t work.

Sombra stopped reading there and grinned. He had just enough connections with his mother in order for it to work. He’d finally found what he was looking for. It was time to prove that he was a real stallion, able to take care of his family.

Sombra took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He felt the energy surging through his veins as he concentrated on thinking only about his mother. His horn started glowing light-grey, channeling the energy through his horn, and slowly flowing down to his eyes. He slowly opened them, as the energy made the eyelids feels as heavy as metal, and was staggered by the terrifying sight of the whole world getting sucked into a hole. It was like he was being pulled away from existence, dragged into the never-ending Abyss. While falling for just a few seconds, it felt like hours to him.

Suddenly, the fall stopped. Sombra was stuck in the centre of an endless void with complete silence surrounding him. He swallowed and looked around, but it seemed like his eyes were closed, for he saw nothing. The panic and confusion started overtaking him, and the wish to scream became even more powerful when he felt something crawling up his body. The dark substance coiled around his legs, wrapping them in its cold embrace, slowly moving upwards. It tickled his neck as it moved past his mouth and then, the moment it reached his eyes, it impaled them, started flowing right into the eyeballs like some kind of liquid that was being poured right onto his face. Sombra opened his mouth and wanted to shout, but the dark matter got into his mouth as well and released several tentacles that wrapped around his jaws and kept them shut. Sombra felt sick as this cold, flowing, and yet solid mass started moving in his mouth.

His eyes burned, and his stomach started to fight back as the mass crawled through his throat, leaving sticky trails of ooze everywhere it went. He tried to move, but couldn't even flinch.

Suddenly, the mass of darkness that covered his eyesight parted, and revealed the library of Misty Pearl's house, which Sombra got to visit one time. He couldn't move his head around, and was forced to only watch as the sight was going from book to book, wrapping each one in green energy and moving them from place to place. The boy was so relieved – it was his mother! He couldn’t mistake that color for anything else. That was her, it had to be her!

Willemite let out a sigh, and backed away. At this point, Sombra wondered why she even was in the house of Misty Pearl. His father had been there and had found no trail of her.

After about a few more minutes of moving books, Willemite turned around because of some sound that disturbed her, and faced the pony, which stood behind her.

It was Star Gem.

Sombra was standing in the middle of the room, completely paralyzed, with his horn glowing grey, and his eyes completely covered in darkness, which was cracking and moving like a cloud of smoke. It shifted and moved regularly, but never left Sombra's eyes.

At first, Sombra's expression simply expressed confusion. Then, slowly, it shifted into a grimace of horror. True, liquid, heavy, metallic fear. He started struggling, shaking his head, trying to cancel out the spell, but it was of no use. Had he read the book further, he would have known why; for if one casts the spell of Visio Aeternum to look through the eyes of a person who was already dead, he or she was to see the moment of their death until the very last second.

Sombra uttered unrecognizable sounds, that barely resembled words, the only ones he managed to utter were 'stop', 'please' and 'no'.

The images of Willemite's memory cut deeply into the child's soul, allowing him to feel everything she felt on the emotional level. He trembled and shuddered as his mother was pinned to the bookshelf by the aroused unicorn. He suffered and cried inside as she was violated, raped, and torn away from the innocence and pride she carried.

He felt that weak feeling of freedom as she fell and begged for release as she lay on the floor, bleeding. The picture twisted and turned, but the feelings were still cutting and ripping through him.

He heard how she let out her last breath. And, as his mother let out her last sigh, he felt her last feelings ripping through every barrier, and striking him right into his heart, piercing it and embedding itself into his very being, tearing out pieces of flesh to take their place as part of him. It seeped into his mind to mortally wound it and enter the wounds like a parasite.

The feeling was the strongest of all he felt during this trip. The feeling he wouldn’t forget for a long, long time.

The thirst for vengeance.

Faint

"Sometimes... horror hides in the open sight. Stay away from the light!" a trembling female voice befell Sombra's ears as he walked through the forest.

The trees, every single one of them, were crooked and rotten, and yet leaves, long and tough, with edges sharper than razors, were still growing on these lifeless husks. Their branches looked more like hands with long sharp claws, ready to tear through him at any moment. The grass was dry and pale, crunching sounds echoed through the woods, making the leaves shudder, unused to any sound in this forgotten forest. The shadows, even though there was no light at all, were still present in the form of bubbling boiling puddles. Sombra carefully approached one of them and tried to touch it with his hoof, but quickly jumped back as the unknown creature jumped out of the goo and tried to bite him.

Shadows were his enemies; that much he knew now. He continued onward, avoiding the deadly shadows, and sticking to the small amount of sturdy ground left here.

There were no sounds of nature; this forest was completely devoid of any life. No crickets, no birds, not even fireflies. Sombra was all alone here... alone to face something that was hunting him.

As he stepped over another shadow, Sombra heard gurgling sounds and hoofsteps. It sounded like somepony sick, with the sound of frequent coughs sounding through the air. Suddenly, a barrage of light pierced the total darkness. It was like a sword cutting through the body of an evil creature, a beacon during the storm. Sombra felt the need to bask in its warming embrace, step out of the shadows and rest. But he remembered the warning the soft voice of his mother had given him at the beginning. Avoid the light.

The gurgling became louder as he heard something approaching him, tearing through the bushes and crushing the grass underneath its hooves. It was getting closer and closer, and, at last, it revealed itself by speaking.

"Sombra! Come out! I won't hurt you!" Amethyst said in a worried voice, treading carefully through the woods. Sombra hid in the bush, resisting the desire to scream from pain as the leaves cut into his flesh. Amethyst stepped out of the thicket, revealing himself.

His body looked scratched and torn. There were large scars on his chest and sides. It seemed the leaves had left a sign of him as well. His hooves were covered in grey dust as well as the remains of grass. He’d probably ran. His face wore an expression of fear, worry, and pain at the same time.

But the scariest feature of his were his eyes. They were burning bright with flames, whose light Sombra mistook for the beacon that was coming from his eyes. When the boy's eyes adapted to the semidarkness he was using as cover, he saw the white of Amethyst's eyes being completely red, filled with blood. It was literally overflowing, and dripping from his eyeballs, forming small drops and running down his face and cheeks.

"Sombra! Please, show yourself! Where are you?" his father anxiously called out, looking worriedly around. Sombra shrunk in the bush even more, trying not to breathe, trying to hide his existence from Amethyst.

"I won't hurt you! I am your friend, your father. Please, come out!" he called out again, his voice trembling like he was about to burst into tears.

Sombra was struck by a thought, ‘what if he's being honest right now?’ What if this was his real father, the real Amethyst? He carried the light of hope in his eyes, destroying the darkness, the dark forces had tried to stop him, tried to kill him, but he had endured, and now he’d come for his only son.

What if the voice had been mistaken? What if this was just a false whisper from the dark forest? Sombra lifted his head, and looked at his tormented father, took a deep breath and stepped outside the bush.

"Father! I'm here!" he shouted, and Amethyst turned his head towards the poor boy. The light blinded Sombra for a second, but it was a pleasant pain, like the one he’d imagine to feel when he’d finally leave a dark cave to bask in the rays of the burning sun.

Sombra rubbed his eyes, smiling, happy to feel something besides pain and cold. But when his eyes adapted and he looked upon his father again, he finally understood the message given to him.

Evil was hiding in plain sight. Only stepping into the light allowed Sombra to see behind the mask of the innocent tormented body. The vile monster, with his maw wide open, reeked of booze and cheap liquor. The veins on his neck were swollen, pulsating in time with the heartbeat. Its belly was a huge blister, filled with some disgusting liquid, which bubbled and made him gag each time he moved.

"Found you!" the monster cooed, pinning its burning eyes right at Sombra. It slowly started moving towards him, opening its mouth, aiming to gobble him up. The stench of rot and bile steamed from his mouth as Sombra backed away. It seemed the bush and trees behind him disappeared, evaporated, when touched by the gaze of this creature.

"Weakling! You are pathetic!" Monster-Amethyst growled as he cornered Sombra and prepared to devour him.

***

After a gentle pat on the shoulder, Sombra sprung up, awaken from the horrifying nightmare. He shuddered for a second and shook his head, still trying to process everything in his brain, struggling to separate the dream from reality. Blurred spots appeared in his sight. It seemed he’d shaken his head too violently.

After he’d gotten accustomed to the light, he quickly looked around, trying to find the pony who gave him what saved him from the horrific nightmare. He only found Krystal, who stared at him anxiously.

"Are you alright?" she asked in a worried voice. Sombra, disappointed by this discovery, sighed and turned back to the empty table.

"Yes. I am. As always," Sombra said, rubbing his eyes. What did she want with him, this strange girl with bright smile?

"I was just taking a nap, nothing more. Can't I just sleep for half a minute?" Sombra groused in a quite rude manner. Krystal's face changed from anxiety to passive disappointment.

"Sorry, didn't want to disturb you. I thought you were having a bad dream. You were all twitching and whispering to yourself. It looked very creepy, and I thought it would be a good idea to wake you up," she apologized in a slightly disappointed tone. It was clear she didn't like Sombra's attitude. But he was bothered by another thing.

"So... you were watching me... sleep?" he raised his eyebrow and eyed her accusingly. Krystal's cheeks were filled with bright red color in seconds. She opened her eyes widely, gazing at Sombra with confusion and a little bit of shame.

"Wha... I didn't... No! No, I didn't!" she said in an abashed voice. "How could you even think that?"

"It wasn't that hard to figure out. Why do you even bother? Who am I to you? Why do you waste your time on me?" Sombra asked in a serious tone, after any shyness was finally defeated by irritation and just simple curiosity. Krystal looked at him with signs of mixed anger and disappointment.

"I just wanted to help you. Nothing more. You were sitting there, completely alone, maybe even in pain, and I thought I could help you," she said in a quiet voice, and Sombra felt very bad for being so rude.

"You know, it's hard to find friends nowadays. I thought I would find some luck with you. I mean, lonely ponies are always more interesting than sociable," she continued, and now Sombra just felt like a complete jerk. "I think I shall go now, since my help is not required."

Two voices started arguing in Sombra's head. One was telling him to just let her leave, that his mission had been accomplished, and he’d be finally left alone. He did perfectly on his own with a small help from Iron Wheel. He could continue to live on his own just alright. The other told him to abandon the lonely life and try to make a friend – a real friend.

Sombra was torn between the two possibilities, between going back to his old style of life, and trying out something new: something unknown, mysterious, complex. Like a land, never explored before with blooming flowers and trees, looking so beautiful, but also hiding something inside of it. The land of social interaction. Something that Sombra had tended to avoid for these two years. But maybe, the time had come to change everything?

"Wait... no... please... don't go. I'm sorry," Sombra stuttered, before she could turn and walk away. "I didn't mean to offend you... It just doesn't happen that often... That ponies just come up to me and offer to help."

The choice had been made.

"You mean this isn't the first time you are just sitting here without food?" Krystal asked, her expression changing to curiosity. Sombra was glad to see that she’d quickly exchanged the temper-justice for mercy.

"Yes... I—" Sombra started stammering, reluctant to share any of his problems with his new supposed friend, but he drove away the doubt and spat it out. "I don't have the money to buy food."

"Ow.... Do you want me to share with you? Don't worry, I'm not hungry. Need to lose weight anyway," Krystal said and sat down without even asking for permission, probably on instinct. Sombra didn't mind, he wanted to ask her to take a seat anyway.

Suddenly, she slammed her forehead with her hoof and laughed for a second.

"Oh my, I just realized. We were just talking for such a long time, and I haven't even introduced myself. I'm so sorry!" she said, smiling awkwardly. "My name's Krystal! What's your name?"

"I'm Sombra. Nice to meet you," he replied. It felt kind of weird to know her name even before she introduced herself, but what could he do?

"Sombra? Wow... Did your parents name you after a character from 'A Runaway from Fate'?" she asked, looking very intrigued and interested. Sombra arched an eyebrow. ‘'A Runaway from Fate'? What could that be?’ he wondered.

"What? I don't know anything about any runaways..." he replied whereupon Krystal giggled.

"It's a very well-known book. A classic, even. Written by Dostrotevsky fifty years ago, it tells the story of a simple pony, who rose from a simple merchant to the king of the merchant's guild," Krystal explained, looking somewhere afar, lost in her memories of the book. "However, he achieves all of this through horrifying methods, and thus, he will be punished by fate for his crimes. He tries to escape it, but in the end, it catches up and delivers the final blow to him, as cholera takes the life of a mare he loved."

"Ow... that's grim," Sombra noted, looking at Krystal with a little bit of confusion. He heard that book had three volumes over 1000 pages each. And this girl had read it all?

"I really like that book. I can't help but sympathize with the main character. Even though he makes a lot of mistakes on his way to power, somewhere deep inside, he is a good pony," she absentmindedly said, smiling and looking at the ceiling. It seemed she enjoyed this little fantasy of hers. Maybe that hero was her first love, who knew? Sombra smiled to this. He hadn’t read too much fiction, except the fairytales he and Willemite had read when he was only learning to read. He couldn't recall the exact titles, but the cute heroes of those small books with nice drawings would forever stay in his memory.

"Alright... I guess that's a very good book, if you like it so much. I wish I could read it," Sombra lamented, and Krystal suddenly turned bright and shining.

"You want to read it? Cool!" she cried, jumping up from the bench. "Let us go to the library at once. They ought to have a few copies of the first volume!"

"But... I don't have any money to pay for it," Sombra weakly gainsaid, but Krystal just smiled.

"Do not worry – money is no problem. I'll pay for you!"

"No... No, you really shouldn't" the boy said, feeling completely embarrassed. Just a few minutes ago, Krystal wanted to leave, and now she wanted to help him, this time not just by giving him sandwiches, but by paying real money? So embarrassing!

"Pff, don't worry. It's no problem at all! Come on, let's go to the library!" she said and promptly started dragging Sombra along. He could barely do anything, as the swift mare made her way through the cafeteria hall, dragging this half-lifeless dark body along with her. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks.

"I think I forgot something... Oh yes!" she exclaimed suddenly. "I forgot to eat. Are you hungry?"

Sombra only nodded silently and she quickly dragged him back to the table, put him on the bench, ran away, and returned with the same box as yesterday in seconds. The boy couldn't even catch a breath. Krystal was far too fast for him to follow, so full of energy, so quick, nimble, so alive. She smiled at him, and he smiled awkwardly in return as she offered him the delicious sandwiches.

"They're all yours! Eat up, and let's go! The library doesn't stay open the whole day!" she urged impatiently as Sombra gobbled up one sandwich after another. Salad, butter, just plain bread – he didn't care. They tasted so good, he couldn't stop.

Soon, Krystal's lunch box was completely empty, but she smiled widely and giggled.

"He-he, that's some appetite! So, should we go?" she asked, and Sombra nodded, still getting used to the feeling of having his stomach filled.

They slowly went out of the cafeteria, for Sombra was far too full to walk faster, whereof Krystal couldn't stop joshing about. He didn't mind, and just giggled along with her as they made their way through the school corridors.

***

The snowflakes were dancing in the wind, slowly falling down on the ground, as well as upon shoulders and backs of adult and young ponies. Just as always, the parents came to meet their children. They took their bags, so their beloved little pony wouldn't feel burdened and ventured onward home as it was getting colder.

Sombra and Krystal walked side by side, with her looking around dreamily, gazing at the beauty of the winter, and him barely managing to keep his school bag from crushing him into goo. The rumors weren't lying – 'A Runaway from Fate' was just as humongous as they said. Along with other books Sombra had to carry, it piled up into an unbearable load that his weakened body couldn't handle. The effects of starving for a few days had finally shown themselves. The nutritious lunch provided by Krystal gave him some strength to carry on and not to fall into the snow.

"I can help you, if you want," Krystal said, turning her head to cast a concerned look at her friend. Sombra forced a smile out of himself.

"Don't worry. I got this!" he assured, crushing another pile of snow under his hoof.

Sombra looked through the crowd in the hope he’d spot Iron Wheel, but he was nowhere to be seen. It seemed the sight of him and Krystal walking side by side had scared him off. He was still in doubts.

Krystal seemed nice; she definitely wasn't anything of those horrible things that Iron Wheel had described. In fact, Sombra was still unsure who exactly she was. Her expensive warm clothes gave away a child with parents who didn't lack money. Her positive and friendly attitude would usually make her a very sociable pony, an 'everypony's must-have friend', but she didn't seem to say hello to any other pony they passed by. She didn't even pay any attention to the crowd around her; she seemed to be sucked in by the beauty of the nature.

As they went farther from school, the snow started falling harder, turning from innocent snowflakes into a thick wall of white. Krystal smiled and ran a little bit faster, losing herself in the milky fog. Sombra could barely slog through snow, but he too hurried up, trying to catch up with his companion. He could only track her by the hoofprints in the snow.

While on his way, he glanced at the view around him. He looked at lonely trees, which stood like powerful giants holding the white milky clouds on their shoulders. The white veil only revealed the outlines, but they could not be mistaken for anything else – the sturdy pillars that reached to the very skies from young Sombra's point of view. Tired of carrying his baggage, Sombra decided to stray from the path of hoofprints, and leaned on the nearest tree. It felt like heaven when the bag fell into the snow, the crunching sound of snow reaching his ears. He took a deep breath and just sat down nearby. The cold pierced his skin, but he was far too tired to get up and keep moving.

The exhaustion, the sleepless nights, the rough surface of the table he used to sleep on – it all piled up, at this exact moment. Sombra scratched his cheek on the rough bark of the tree, but the pain was almost unnoticeable. He was just so tired, he needed to rest. This seemed like a good enough spot.

The wind changed its tone from howling to lulling, the snow seemed fluffier than featherbed now. Sombra slowly closed his eyes as the cold turned to warmth, carrying him away to the land of dreams.

***

"Sombra! Sombra, wake up! Sombra!" Krystal shouted in a worried voice, shaking him, as the small white dust fell from his mane and fur. He didn't respond, but his chest was still moving up and down. He seemed alive enough.

Krystal was at a loss. What happened to him? She just went a little bit forward to check out the snowy landscape, and several minutes after she noticed that her companion was missing, she found him lying by the tree in the snow, just... sleeping. At first, a slight touch of confusion and annoyance reached her soul, but when Sombra didn't reply to her nagging, she was seriously scared.

"Wake up! Wake up!" she shouted, but his only response was some mumbling she couldn't understand. She looked around, hoping to find at least one pony passing by and ask for help, but fate gave her no such gifts.

Suddenly, after another push to the side, Sombra finally started to show signs of life, as he slowly moved his head and opened his eyes.

"Oh, thank the Emperor!" Krystal said, shaking him a few times more to help him get to his senses.

"Wha....?" Sombra uttered in a confused manner.

"You scared me to death! What happened to you?! I turn away for half a second and then I find you sleeping here!" she scolded in an angry voice, enraged by the stress and fear she had to endure.

"I... I...ehm...." Sombra said as he got up. He felt nauseous and he reeled from side to side, barely managing to stand on his hooves. Krystal managed to catch him before he fell again.

"You need to get home. Now!" she said and took his bag. "I'll carry it for you. Come on, let's go."

"I..." Sombra said, blinking, still trying to process what was going on around, but Krystal let him lean on her. After taking a few steps forward, making sure this construction was going to work, she took a long careful look at him.

"Oh, my.... I hope it's just the chilblain... you look so pale...” she said. Sombra looked at her, clearly not knowing what she meant.

"I'm... ooh... " Sombra started before fainting again. Krystal barely managed to prevent him from falling.

"Please, stop! You're scaring me! Stop!" she started freaking out, for she was left to only guess what was happening to him. She wanted to ask where to go, where he lived, but the only thing Sombra could utter right now was a weak moan.

"... just wait a second... just a second..." Krystal started babbling while she looked around in fear. She took a deep breath to calm down, and then started quickly taking off her fur coat and put it on Sombra, carefully trying to wrap it around his neck.

She looked around, trying to find a place that could provide further protection from snow. The outlines of an old summer house on the hill caught her attention, and she quickly dragged herself and her friend there.

The cold was biting her sides, but she continued to drag Sombra along up the hill. Through the entire path that seemed so difficult for a child, she never had a thought of backing down. She felt tired, cold, scared, the traitorous instinct of self-preservation was screaming to leave the burden and get somewhere warm, but she refused to even notice it. She carried on without any doubt.

When Krystal carefully put Sombra on the bench and sat down beside him, she could finally breathe calmly. The snowfall could no longer reach them, and Sombra was wrapped in her fuzzy coat that would protect him from the biting cold. She shivered when the slight breeze flew through the summer house, carrying several snowflakes inside. She started to quickly rub her hooves against each other as she waited for the storm to subside.

Author's Note

Surprise, early update. Hope you are happy!

Your thoughts and comments are requiered, as always.

Warmth

The biting cold on his cheeks and a sudden quiver that ran down his spine woke Sombra up. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting from the light. He saw the wooden ceiling, and immediately thought that he was at home. Not a very comforting thought, not at all.

Sombra slowly got up and realized, with relief, that it wasn't his home. He was still outside, as the only thing guarding this safe haven from thick white veil was the wooden roof of the summer house. He noticed Krystal sitting right nearby him on the bench, desperately trying to keep herself warm. She immediately noticed that he’d woken up and turned her attention to him.

"Thank the Abyss you woke up! Oh, I was so worried!" she said, got up, and approached Sombra from the side. She looked pale and very scared, almost terrified.

"I thought you were a goner! I mean, you didn't say anything, you were all reeling from side to side. Couldn’t even stand on your own," she babbled quickly, holding Sombra's face tightly still. "Don't be silent! Talk to me!"

"Al-rphight..." Sombra said, trying to free his face from her hooves. "Did I just... pass out?"

"Yes, you did! I found you sleeping in the snow. At first, you woke up, but then you fell down right back again. Can you even imagine how you scared me?" she asked in a frustrated voice, though tones of sadness persisted in the pronunciation of certain letters.

At first, Sombra wanted to say something witty to cover up his extreme lack of sleep, but he suddenly realized one thing. There was a time he collapsed right in the middle of a crowded street, and not even a single pony had tried to help him.

But Krystal did. Sombra looked at his 'blanket' realizing it was her fur-coat. The girl sneezed, and quickly pressed her warmed up hooves against her cheeks. It was so cold right now, and she’d given the coat to him in his time of need.

Sombra had never experienced something quite like this before, but it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. It was new, unknown to young Sombra, yet he barely noticed it, far too consumed by blush and shame.

"I'm sorry... It doesn't happen that often. Usually," he replied, and Krystal looked at him with shock.

"You mean this is... usual to you? Oh, by the heavenly gems!" she swore, raising her hooves towards the ceiling. "You're clearly not well. You fall asleep in the cafeteria, you fall asleep in the middle of the road, and you also don't seem to eat too much,” she summed up while pointing at the thin body Sombra had compared to most kids. “I will keep a close eye on you, Sombra. No matter what you say, you do need help."

"Thanks... I guess...” Sombra said, trying to hide his fragile body under the fur-coat, and blushing even more when he remembered that it was her coat after all. "I… I think I'll be heading home now..."

"Good idea. You'll show me where you live, and I'll escort you there," Krystal decreed. Sombra quickly shook his head in denial.

"No-no-no! You shouldn't! You definitely shouldn't! Don't worry, I feel perfect now!" he blurted out, realizing that he just couldn't let this girl see where and how he lived. Suddenly he felt so embarrassed of his own house. Even his life a little bit. This girl had some expensive clothes, and what did he have? An old school bag. That was all. What would she think of him if she saw what kind of life he lived?

"I insist!" she continued to enforce her will of helping him, but Sombra just refused as politely as he could. Krystal turned a bit sad for a second, and then gave him a 'what should I do with you' kind of look.

"May I at least bring you food every day? We'll eat together at lunch," she offered, and to that Sombra agreed immediately.

"Well... at least, you accept that kind of help. Brr… it's so cold," she shivered and sneezed loudly.

"Gesundheit," Sombra said, carefully picked up the fur-coat and put it back around her shoulders. She quickly bundled up in it harder and even smiled with relief.

"Ahh... Still warm," she sighed. "Well, Sombra.. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Her bag, which had lain just by the bench, was quickly wrapped up in sparkling light aura, as she threw it over her shoulder. She seemed to handle her bag very masterfully, like it was nothing but a feather.

"You're a weird pony, Sombra, I'll have to say. Don't know why you're so enclosed and all... But I think we'll be great friends. Take great care!" she said, gave Sombra a smile and went away into the thick white veil. Sombra followed her with his gaze until her figure had fully disappeared in the milky fog of snow.

He agreed with her, in some way. He was weird, really weird. He still remembered how he’d been when he was just two years younger. Were he to make a comparison, he’d find no similarities. Everything had changed so much in the last couple of years.

Krystal was yet another change, but she felt much different. It felt like she really wanted to help him, though the bitter experience begged to differ. It screamed again that this was a horrible idea, ordered to remember what happened last time he’d trusted another pony.

Sombra closed his eyes, clearing the horrific image from his mind for the thousandth time again. He couldn't stand it, he hated it, but it was still so fresh in his memory. It was the main argument for not letting Krystal near him.

On the other side, there was this new feeling. It still felt confused, navigating through Sombra's mind, but it already wanted to make some changes. It begged to try to make friends, to try to make a difference in his life.

Sombra sighed heavily, picked up his back and draped it over his shoulder. It still felt heavy, but not nearly as heavy as before. He stood still for a couple of seconds and then delved into the white veil.

The wind blew harshly, bathing Sombra in its cold embrace, and the boy wished he had at least some clothes to wear. But at least he didn't feel sleepy anymore.

He also noted that he definitely should get some more sleep, and he would, but the nightmares visited him every night and even during daydreams. At times, he wouldn't even sleep at all and just lay in bed, resisting the urge to close his eyes.

Sombra shivered, and hurried up. While not too eager to go home, he still wanted to warm his hooves and rest up. An idea of closing the door to his room, wrapping the blanket around him, and then just simply pondering about the situation at hoof seemed like a perfect course of action.

***

Just how many lines does the wooden ceiling have on it? Sombra counted them one by one, and when he reached the number of one hundred, he lost count. What do these lines on the wood even mean? Are they supposed to indicate age, like the wrinkles on the face of an old pony? Or are these in reality a huge canyon that sprawls its roots all throughout the world? Who knows, maybe thousands of tiny ponies lived there, completely unaware of this bigger life that is looking right at their small world right now. Maybe there is a boy in that small world, just like myself, who lays on his bed and stares on the ceiling. That thought made Sombra feel a little bit better – he didn't feel so alone anymore.

Sombra sighed loudly and turned away from the ceiling, looking at the wall instead. He could be distracted so easily. He wanted to finally make the final decision about relationships with strangers, and yet his thoughts reverted to some bizarre fantasies yet again.

He drove the silly thoughts away and began the discussion of Krystal with himself yet again. Discuss the pros and cons, think about any possible outcome that might appear from this friendship. The first steps were taken, and but there was still time to go back. To stop, and change directions. He could still keep his solitude.

This solitude walked alongside him ever since Willemite's sudden and tragic death. It was like a veil that protected him from the dangers of the outside world, keeping him warm and safe from the evil knives and tongues of the surrounding nightmares.

And yet, as safe as Sombra felt under the protection of this solitude, it couldn't keep him warm. Slowly it started to get colder for him; he started to look from under this veil at the outside world. And Krystal, like a ray of light, had seeped inside.

Sombra had a choice now: close himself away again, or lift this box of solitude and face the outside world.

It was tearing him apart: at one side, there was Krystal's smile, her witty comments, and the most important fact of her actually giving a damn about Sombra. She’d carried him to the summer house, and even tucked him with her fur-coat.

On the other side, the horrible ghost of his mother's tragic death was still looming in his mind. This pain continued to eat away at him; the pictures of that horrible day came up and would not disappear. And it was all caused by a pony he’d considered his friend.

Sombra thought he made the final decision when he’d accepted Krystal's offer, but the pain had left a scar that was simply to big to just let go. Friends could cause him pain much more horrible than strangers always would: at least, strangers were unknown, while friends were like the books he’d read for many times over and over. It was like with books. He could turn a page to suddenly face something disgusting, vile, and repulsing written there.

Sombra's head started to ache from all of this complexity. He just couldn't decide what direction to follow, whom to trust, nor if he should even trust anypony.

He got up from his bed and slowly walked around the room, brainstorming this question. What would he prefer? The freshness of innovation, or the comfort and safety of the old life? Loneliness, where nopony would stab him in the back, or society, where ponies could help him?

Sombra growled at himself and sat down on the floor. His head was aching from all these facts and arguments he’d created in his mind. For about an hour he’d done nothing but think, and yet, he was still as confused as he’d been before.

Why did it have to be so complicated? It made his head spin, made him incredibly frustrated and angry.

In rage, Sombra struck the table with all his might. The papers shook upon impact and Sombra quickly jumped back, rubbing the injured hoof. It seemed he’d overestimated his physical strength when trying to drive away the unnecessary thoughts that clouded his mind.

He sighed in frustration. He couldn’t reach a compromise with himself. He couldn’t even fully understand himself. After a few minutes of just standing near the table, he went to his daily routine – homework, sleeping, and rarely, looking at his old drawings. He didn't even open 'A Runaway from Fate', as it had lain in the corner along with several other books since he’d gotten it. He was far too busy to read now.

***

"The sixth guild master of Kriztalus Trading League, Atris, was a colt of many feats. He was the first pony to ever conduct an expedition to the center of the Endless Abyss. He was the one who found the Crystal Heart and—" the history teacher went on and on, as Sombra could barely hold his head from hitting the table.

He wasn't paying attention to anything the teacher told, he was far too lost in his own thoughts and problems. Thankfully, teachers usually avoided asking him, so he could do almost anything in the lesson as long as it didn't involve noise.

Sombra's eyes were swollen and red, he felt something heavy on his chest, and his skull seemed too small for his brain. He hadn’t slept last night; he’d been too preoccupied for that. He just wanted a nap, and yet, the weight of responsibility for his decision was far too heavy to just abandon it.

While the teacher would usually sound just plain boring, now, he started to really annoy Sombra – his monotone wherein he read the lesson from a small notebook and his movements. Sombra just wanted him to shut up and leave him in peace so he could think.

Every whisper, every sound made him grind his teeth in frustration and anger. Why was the world so loud? Why did the ponies have to whisper to each other, talk about something only they could understand? Why couldn't they all just shut up?

Thankfully, the bell ended this painful torture with the cacophony of whispers, and Sombra could sigh freely, as his classmates left. It was time to get some lunch.

The noise in the cafeteria was not a rare guest. In fact, during lunch, this hall was always filled with quarreling ponies who made new friends, or they just talked or emitted strange animal sounds. Some took it as a sport to imitate animals and even mythical creatures. Some boys loved to imitate dragons, growling and roaring like those majestic creatures. Right now, some of them gathered in a bunch and tested who had the most powerful roar.

Sombra was sitting at his usual place, looking indifferently at the surface of the table. Strange, really, he never actually took a closer look at the table he adored so much. All these scratches and small holes, each of them must have a story of its own. Maybe every pony was like these scratches: different, strange, and unknown. Some were straight and looked quite fitting. Others were crooked and barely visible. Some were just huge blobs.

What was his life like: a blob, a straight line, or a crooked scratch? Right now, it felt like an empty place. While others had already begun to draw their scratches on the table of life, Sombra was stuttering in one place, not sure what form to take. He was left behind, but not in a way of betrayal. He just decided to stay, while others had already made their first moves.

"Good morning, Sombra," he heard Krystal approach and sit down next to him. He didn't even look at her, still thinking about whether it’d been a good idea to let her near in the first place or not. Was it really necessary to let the intruder inside his little dome?

"Good morning..." Sombra replied gloomily, continuing to stare at the table. He inhaled the smell of a sandwich that was carefully moved towards him, but didn't even turn his head.

"No, thank you, I'm not hungry. For real this time," Sombra replied to this silent offer and took a deep breath.

"Sombra, is everything alright? You look pale," Krystal said, and carefully touched Sombra's shoulder. "You look si—"

She was unable to finish as she started coughing badly. Sombra turned to her, a bit scared. Krystal had sickly black circles under her eyes, her cheeks were red, and the heat could almost be felt from where he sat. The poor filly had heightened temperature, and, judging by what little movements she made, felt sluggish and slow. No doubt everything in her eyes looked blurry.

"Krystal, what's wrong with you?" Sombra asked, turning to her.

"Oh... it's nothing… just a little cold..." she took heavy breaths between her words and seemed to have trouble speaking. Sombra wanted to ask her more about this, but something tightly gripped his throat.

His doubts, his memories didn't want him to take any action. So he didn't.

"O... okay..." Sombra managed to utter and turned his head back towards the surface of the table.

It was partially his fault. Because of him passing out, Krystal had to sacrifice her fur-coat to keep him warm. She had to sit near him. It was probably there that Krystal got this terrible cold. This, in addition to the unresolved dilemma, made Sombra feel utterly pathetic.

"Achoo! Oh, my... I hope it will pass soon. I hate being ill... Achoo!" Krystal could barely say anything without coughing or sneezing. "I still recommend you to eat something. With your complexity, you should eat much more than you—" she couldn't finish the sentence as she burst into loud coughing again. Even one who was inexperienced in medicine could see that she had something worse than a simple cold.

"Gesundheit..." Sombra said in a quiet voice, as the sharp teeth of guilt sunk into his soul. He could no longer look at her, knowing that he was partly guilty for this... though, maybe it was entirely his fault.

Sombra barely managed to push the sandwich down his throat. It would probably be the only piece of food he’d eat today. He couldn't bear to stay in this building any longer, hear any noises. He just wanted some fresh cold air, just some time away from the world. Alone.

After the bell rang, and Krystal had ran away to her classroom, Sombra slowly walked alongside the crowd, looking for a particular pony he could entrust this little secret to.

He looked through many faces, trying to find Iron Wheel. Sombra quickly caught up with him and got his attention by gently bumping him into the side.

“Oh, hi, Sombra, what do you want?” Iron Wheel greeted, turning to him. “You look a bit grim.”

“I need to leave, Iron Wheel” Sombra stated bluntly.

“Well, go ahead. I'm not stopping you,” he replied, and the dark colored unicorn sighed heavily, realizing how few ponies actually cared.

“I mean, I need to leave the school. I need some time alone. Will you cover me up, say that I'm sick or something?”

“Sure thing. I've got your back!” Iron Wheel replied, giving Sombra a kind smile.

“Thank you… I'll be on the bridge, the one above the creek” he babbled quietly, turned away and left. He went straight for the exit, avoiding any teacher and any student who would be more than happy to tell on him. While kids here avoided him, some would never miss a chance to tell lies about him to teachers. Sombra scared them, and they wanted him far away from them, as far as he could be. It could be easily seen by those glances they dropped at him whenever he turned away.

Sombra finally left the school, and felt the cold air fill his lungs. He exhaled, letting out a big cloud of white fume. He still enjoyed this little trick of nature, as any child would. What could be more fun than finding a stick on the ground and 'smoking' it, imagining yourself being an adult with a tobacco pipe between your teeth?

Sombra descended from the stairs and on the cold snowy ground. The sun was high up in the sky, never hidden behind any cloud, which all seemed to have disappeared from the blue heavenly ocean. Sombra slowly looked around, enjoying the beauty of nature, and set out for the bridge. He was sure he would find solitude and calmness there, and maybe, an end to all his problems.

***

“Achoo!” Krystal sneezed loudly, barely managing to keep herself from flying into the wall behind her. This terrible cold was a nightmare. Her head was like a beating drum, the blur in the eyes was sickening, and her temperature seemed to continue rising with every minute.

She should have stayed at home today, but the math test changed her plans – she couldn't miss it. She had to work very hard on her grades in mathematics, or risk listening to her father's boring lectures about mathematical formulas and et cetera. She never enjoyed math, but she was terrifically good at it.

Mathematics was the next lesson she had, now she should get back to cafeteria and have a bit of a lunch break. Krystal still had some sandwiches in her little box, but she really wanted to eat something less heavy: an apple or something like that.

The girl carefully trotted through the corridors, avoiding any questionable personalities she noticed standing by the walls. Sometimes, she regretted going to this school. There were so few ponies to actually talk to. It was unbearable, she had so many thoughts inside her head, so many suggestions, so many themes for a good conversation, and yet most of these kids didn't even read Chehoof. Not even Cherry Orchard! Ridiculous!

Everywhere Krystal went, ponies turned around and looked at her. She had a very strange way of walking: a mix of a prideful and elegant strut with causal walk. Krystal had a plump figure she was quite shy of, so she always tried to hide it behind causal walk, or just going into the crowd. She was so tired of her classmates calling her different names for 'fattie'. Almost every day, she begged her mother to not to give her some extra sandwiches, since she could never resist their seducing look, but to no avail.

However, now she’d met Sombra. Interesting coincidence, really. Krystal was just passing by his table, trying to morally restrain herself from eating all of the sandwiches. The instant she noticed this skinny dark colored unicorn, she was utterly stunned at how poor he looked. Just sitting there, holding his belly in pain with watery eyes. He looked like a kitten in the middle of the road, all dirty, hungry and helpless. Krystal couldn't simply pass by him.

The boy was very strange, to say the least. His surliness and unwillingness to open up were mystifying, yet incomprehensible for Krystal. Sombra looked like a pony that needed help. He looked troubled, confused, lost.

Krystal had approached him with the hope to help. What she’d found, it seemed, was the only normal pony in this school. He was a pariah, as she’s heard, who stuck only with another outcast, Iron Wheel. From what Krystal found out, Sombra seemed like a very nice pony. Even though he still didn't want to become her friend.

When Krystal took off her fur-coat for him, she had doubts. Many doubts. Should she risk getting sick for a pony she’d just recently met? Should she sacrifice anything for this dark unicorn?

While she’d pondered, she looked at him sleeping on that bench, his black mane contrasting with the white stains of snow that had gotten stuck to his fur, moving his mouth soundlessly as if whispering something to himself, sometimes moving his hooves in some strange manner. Krystal couldn't bear to see him freeze like this. Going against her desire to stay warm, against her mother's advice not to take the fur-coat off under any circumstances, she’d helped him. He’d just looked so pitiful it would have been monstrous not to help.

The cafeteria was filled with ponies, as always. However, Krystal was surprised to not see Sombra on his usual place. The table was completely empty.

Krystal stopped for a second. Sombra had behaved very strangely today. He always looked grumpy, but now, he was downright grim, even less talkative, and he didn't even look at Krystal, like he either felt guilty or offended by something. It had scared the girl.

The scariest part was that he just disappeared after they’d talked. Did he leave, was he sick or something? What happened to him? Seeds of worry started to grow inside Krystal as she approached the table and looked under it. For what reason did she get the idea that he would hide under a table? She just hoped to find him there. At least it would relieve her of more worrying thoughts.

Having not found Sombra there, she looked around nervously. A grim look, strange behavior and, finally, disappearance could only mean one thing. Krystal prayed that all her experience of reading tragic romance novels was deceiving her.

Krystal saw Sombra stick around Iron Wheel, so she headed straight towards him. He, at least, had to have a clue of Sombra’s whereabouts.

Iron Wheel was sitting at his table alone, drinking water from a clay cup, with several empty dishes near him. He was quite a big eater, though he never seemed to get fat. Either he exercised a lot, or had another way of wasting all this energy. Krystal approached him from behind and tapped him on the back. He turned around quickly, as if a patch of burning coal had scratched his back.

Iron Wheel looked scared beyond belief, as he slowly started to drag himself away from Krystal, sliding on the bench to the left.

“I'm... What do you want? I don't have any money on me,” he spat, turning away, but Krystal, who was unwilling to waste any more time longer, cut straight to the point.

“Where is Sombra? He was here a lesson ago. Where did he go?” she asked coarsely.

“How should I know? And why should I tell you?” Iron Wheel continued to be a prick, making Krystal's blood boil with frustration. She swore that if Iron Wheel didn't tell her where Sombra was, she’d punch him.

“Because you know where he is. Do you think I didn't see you two walk around together? He probably told you, so tell me now!” Krystal shouted, striking the floor with her hoof to intimidate the uncooperative pony.

Iron Wheel almost fell off the bench from the sound of impact, even though it wasn't that loud. He covered his face with his right hoof, as if expecting Krystal to hit him.

“He went to the bridge, the one that's above the nearby creek! I don't know anything else!” he squeaked, and Krystal froze in place, as her mind put everything into one grim picture. Seconds later, she rushed towards the exit, through the halls, ignoring everypony in her way. She didn't even dress as she ran through the doors. The sun bit her eyes with the bright light, but she quickly regained sight and continued running through the deep snow.

The golden shining made the snow look polished to a shine. The rare snowflakes that slowly drifted through the air like lonely travelers tickled Krystal's skin as she ran without looking anywhere but forward. Her worst suspicions had been confirmed, and she ran as fast as she could to prevent the consequences.

***

Sombra leaned over the railing and looked down into the creek. Just like it was supposed be in the middle of the winter, it was completely encased in a frozen prison. However, the ice was thin enough for Sombra to see through it, and at the water that quietly flowed under the transparent shell, shielded in some places by patches of snow.

The water seemed crystal clear, and if it weren't for the ice, Sombra could have seen the bottom with small rocks covering the ground, probably even peacefully swimming fish. Sombra wondered how good it’d be to be a fish, to just swim, swim and swim, until the end of his life. He wouldn’t have to worry about anything, no problems would ever concern him anymore – he’d just swim onwards. He wouldn't need to look behind, he wouldn't need to fear, he wouldn’t need to cry – he’d just swim.

Several small snowflakes landed on Sombra's nose. Their weird, enchanting patterns persisted for a few seconds, before turning into tiny drops of water. They ran down his muzzle and fell onto the surface of the railing.

Sombra sighed heavily. He felt at peace here. No noise, no screams, no headaches. Nature was the most beautiful thing in the world, for it was quiet, peaceful and ready to accept him for what he was. It wouldn't hurt him, never tell him to go away. It accepted him, because he was part of it.

Sombra looked closer at the creek, asking himself a question rarely appearing in the minds as young as his. Should I go on? he wondered. The end to all his problems seemed so close in the form of this peaceful water that ran to places he had never seen before, forming a river, then a sea, and then an ocean. Sombra felt like he wanted to be a part of this cycle – to be nonviolent, pure, clean.

His throat started aching from the harsh surface of his father's hoof, his eyes watered from the persistent stench of father's breath. His mind was filled with painful images, tormenting thoughts, and one final realization.

Nopony cared. Nopony cared if he joined the cycle and abandoned life behind him. His father? It was more likely that water turned to gold than him even noticing Sombra's absence. Iron Wheel? No, he wouldn’t. He would be bored without a subject to drop all his mad ideas onto, but that was about it.

Sombra was alone in this park, on this bridge. He was alone. He’d thought he liked being alone, but this loneliness was so hateful and bitter now. From an old friend, it had turned into an obsessive freak.

Sombra sighed heavily, and looked down into the creek, seeing a few small fishes swim underwater. The nature was beautiful, kind... But he didn't want to be part of it. He didn't belong there. What'd be the point of living at all if he'd just give up? No, Sombra didn't want to give up. As sweet as the idea of a painless existence sounded, he didn't want to accept it. He just wanted to go home and live the rest of his life, though hopefully as little as possible.

“Sombra! No!” a loud shriek suddenly pierced his eardrums. Sombra, shaken from such an attack, was just about to turn, when something suddenly knocked him down. Before he could say anything, he felt something warm and heavy on his back, and a gentle hoof that carefully held his face against the bridge.

“Listen, Sombra, whatever happened to you, don't do this! This isn't the right decision! It never is!” a worried voice, which clearly belonged to Krystal, exclaimed. Sombra barely managed to lift his head a little.

“Wha— what do you mean? What isn't a right decision—,” he was unable to finish, as Krystal enclosed him in a warm hug and flattened herself all over him. She really wanted to keep him motionless.

“Killing yourself! Suicide is not an option, it never does any good! I won't let you move until you are calm and ready to talk!” she screamed, tightening her grip more and more. Sombra could barely move.

“Please, calm down. Don't kill yourself. I don't want you to die!” Krystal continued to shout. “I'll bring sandwiches to you every day. I'll take care of you, I'll make sure you're fed and happy. I'll do your damn homework, for crying out loud, just don't kill yourself!”

“I wasn't going to! I just came here to think, that's all! Let me...erkh... go!” Sombra forced the words out, scratching the wooden surface of the bridge, and finally felt the freedom of movement when Krystal got off of him.

“You... you weren't going to...” she said, still a bit shaken from the experience. Sombra swiped a small patch of snow from his mane.

“No, I wasn't going to. Though...” he replied, and looked at her. Her cheeks turned red with a ferocious blush, and she shyly turned away, trying to hide her watery eyes.

“You came here... because of me? And what gave you the idea that I was going to...” he said, slowly approaching Krystal. She covered her face with a hoof, but Sombra clearly saw a single tear drop upon the bridge’s surface.

“I've... read... novels… and they said... You looked so... sad... and... then Iron Wheel said... you went to the creek... aahh… CHOO!' she sneezed loudly, and fell forward. Sombra barely managed to catch her. Finding herself in his grasp, she buried her face in his mane and started sobbing. Sombra felt so lost and confused, but he didn't push her away. Instead, he wrapped her in his embrace and started gently stroking her mane, hoping to calm her down.

“I really thought you were going to—” Krystal sobbed, but Sombra gently tapped her on the shoulder, signaling her to stay quiet. After that, she just wept on his shoulder.

Sombra felt so strange, realizing that Krystal came here completely by herself. Without her fur-coat. Was she worried? Was she in haste getting here? Did she... care about him?

And now, she was crying on his shoulder, trusting him to keep her close. What made her think he'd be worthy of her trust? It didn't matter: Sombra was far too happy to care. He knew this girl cared now; he knew what the right decision was.

“Relax, Krystal. It's just a coincidence. No need to worry,” Sombra said, smiling with a small touch of sadness on his muzzle. “Though I accept that offer of sandwiches.”

Krystal quickly pushed him away gently, and swiped away the remaining tears. Sombra giggled, as she quickly spread her mane, trying to fix it from his caressing. Like a lady, she tried to make herself look cold and serious, though a small blush and few tears still lingered on her face.

“It's settled then,” she said, with her voice trembling slightly. “From this day forth, I'll bring you sandwiches to eat.”

“I guess this makes us friends,” Sombra said and extended his hoof. Krystal fastidiously looked at the offer of friendship, before extending her own over Sombra's and looked to the side, expecting something.

“These are simple rules of etiquette. I'd expect you to follow them, if we seriously are going to be friends,” she said with feigned bombast, and Sombra looked at her with confusion. She sighed and smiled at him.

“Well, I guess I'll have to teach you everything, then,” she stated, with a short snort in the middle of the sentence. “Have you started reading 'A Runaway from Fate' yet?”

“Err... no,” Sombra smiled innocently, trying to ease the situation, drive away the heavy feeling that dominated at first. But Krystal was already relieved with her tears, her worry gone.

“Then start! You can't put off a meeting with such a good friend. Because a good book is like a true friend! The instant you return home, you grab that fatty-tome and start reading it!” she decreed. Sombra giggled in return.

“As you say!” and they looked at each other in the eyes. Krystal was happy to see that her new friend was alright. Sombra was happy to finally have a pony that really, truly cared about him. They both smiled at each other, and walked towards school together. The places, where Krystal's mane had rubbed against Sombra's skin, still felt warm and fuzzy. Her hair had felt like fluff, or even lighter. It reminded him of Willemite's mane.

For the first time, the memory of his mother wasn't hurtful. For the first time, Sombra felt good remembering her.

He was glad that coincidence helped him with the right decision.

Author's Note

Hope you are enjoying more frequent updates. Though do not expect any more changes. Next chapters are going by the schedule.

Comment and give me your thoughts, please!

Pickpocket

“Can you believe it? I mean, seriously, can you believe it? He dumped me for some stupid broad!” a young mare exclaimed, angrily swiping the tears from her cheek. Judging by her looks, she seemed to be from the fifth grade, skinny, with grey mane and coat.

“Relax, honey, boys are no crying matter. You'll find another one – a much better one.” Her friend, a mare of the same age, tried to calm her down.

“But I thought he loved me! No, I knew he loved me! And I still lo—” her unfinished sentence hung in the air as she looked over her friend's shoulder, staring at the approaching stallion. Wide-eyed, she stared, her jaw almost dropping. Intrigued, her friend turned around as well.

Sombra slowly walked through the corridor, admiring the new color of the walls. The school had certainly changed in those three months of summer holidays. Everything seemed so new, fresh, weird and strange. It almost looked like a completely different place.

But Sombra had changed a lot as well. The fresh fifth-grader had grown up significantly, both in height and in width. He had certainly gained some weight and muscle mass, no longer resembling a cockroach with several limbs torn off. His mane had become longer, glossier, and smoother. His limbs had increased in length, become more muscular and strong. It seemed like Sombra was still getting used to his own height, for he walked rather carefully as if afraid to knock something down or bump into somepony. His eyes were bright, they almost shimmered with green light and his lips formed a friendly smile as he passed the two mares.

“Good morrow to you,” Sombra greeted them politely and went on with his business while the two mares continued to stare at him in amazement. Partially, Sombra understood them. It was certainly hard to recognize him after the summer. Granted, he had changed throughout the previous grades as well, but this summer had been the one to change him the most, and for the better.

Sombra enjoyed being in school as long as Krystal was nearby. They would always meet in the cafeteria and discuss various topics of her choosing. She could talk with him about so many topics and even if he wasn't experienced in it, he would listen carefully and hear her every word.

During summer holidays, they were separated. During the first days, Sombra had felt horrible being alone all the time, but during previous school years, Krystal had taught him a bit about cooking. Sombra had learned that even slapping some butter on a slice of bread could be tricky. However, there was still a financial problem.

Unwilling to ask Krystal for money, Sombra had made a decision which had taken him quite a lot of time to consider. At first, he had thought it was very nasty and mean, but as days went by, he became confident, and — for the first time — sneaked into his father's room and stole his money. He hadn’t taken much, just enough to pay for bread, though it would definitely leave Amethyst without an extra cup of booze for several days.

Soon, Sombra grew bolder and stole more and more, enjoying himself a nice meal of homemade sandwiches, while Amethyst raged and screamed about the missing money. He was always too drunk to figure out that Sombra was stealing from him.

Sombra had felt guilty the first time. Very guilty. He knew that stealing was bad, especially from somepony close to him, but if Amethyst didn’t care for him, he would do it himself. Sombra stopped caring about how hard his father went around the streets and begged for money; he stole exactly as much as he needed, sometimes leaving nothing behind. At one point he had seen Amethyst sitting in the kitchen, screaming that he had nothing to eat and that the gods were punishing him for no apparent reason. Sombra had grinned when his father grabbed his own belly and bent in pain. He knew how horrible the hunger could be. He loved every second of his father feeling the same torment as he had.

With the unofficial financial help, aided by his skills in persuasion, Sombra had managed to stay happy and fed throughout the whole summer preceding the fifth grade. His organism had accepted all of it, rewarding him with proper growth and release from the aches and pain.

Sombra looked forward to finally meeting Krystal again. He hadn't seen her for the whole summer and he wondered if she had changed at all. She spoke a lot about wanting to lose weight, though Sombra preferred to stay silent during her laments, for he felt like any comment about her form and weight would offend her greatly.

Sombra quickly trotted past his classmates and straight towards the cafeteria. Everything inside him was shaking and burning, he couldn't wait to see that pretty face once again. Just a few more minutes and he would be there.

The cafeteria remained unchanged. Same walls, same smell, even the same feelings. Sombra felt a bit melancholic as he made his way through the filled hall, listening to all the noise and conversations. The children, however, had grown up and stopped imitating animals or anything of this sort. Instead, boys started gathering up to wage verbal wars against each other about stupid topics. Girls stayed away from the 'messy' boys while quarrelling and shouting at each other even more than the boys did.

Sombra found his way through the quarrelling crowd, and finally saw his old table. It didn't change at all; the principal didn't even order to polish it, so it continued to stay as a lonely, scratched piece of wood amongst other, cleaner tables. But there was one big difference between now and then in this sight: Krystal.

She sat on the bench with her lower legs crossed, looking very bored as she put her head on the table and just waited for something to happen. She waved her tail from left to right and placed it beside her, enrolling it in a pile of light amber fluff.

Even though she had promised to go on a diet for the summer, she didn't look any less pudgy. However, she had gained a few inches which made her plumpness a little less noticeable. Her face looked as bright as ever, complimented by a slight blush on her cheeks.

Sombra quickly approached her and dared to disturb her little moment of silence, gently tapping her back. Her fur felt soft and she was very warm.

“Oh!” she gave a small start before turning round. “Sombra! Long time no see!”

She smiled and they hugged each other.

“I missed you too, Krystal.”

***

Time passed quickly during their conversation wherein they discussed how they had spent the summer. Sombra mostly listened, for he hadn't done anything special at all except reading 'A Runaway from Fate'. He was halfway through the second book which had been generously provided by Krystal.

When Sombra mentioned said book, Krystal suddenly perked up.

“So, do you love it? Did you read the part where he sells his family regalia? Did you read the part where he meets Solitario?” she asked away and Sombra nodded silently. He had read quite a lot of it, and so far, his opinion of the main here was very low.

His name was Atris. He had had a very bad childhood and lived in complete poverty, his father being a simple vendor and mother being an impaired invalid. The kid had quickly gotten tired of living like this and ran away, to live and learn under the caring hoof of a travelling merchant.

For over twenty years, Atris lived and learned under the watchful guidance of this trader. He grew up into a handy apprentice, helping his master as much as he could, however, he never ceased lamenting that he could achieve so much more.

Then, when a chance finally arrived, he stole a very important package from his master and ran away to join the newly formed Trading League. He quickly became acquainted with the rules and started rapidly amassing his fortune. However, his way of making it was sickening. He would happily leave a family without any income for his own gain, doing anything in his power to achieve wealth even if it meant causing death and destruction.

Sombra really hated Atris. No matter how justified his actions were, there was nothing more precious than a pony’s life. He couldn't understand what Krystal found so appealing in that guy: in Sombra's eyes, he was naught but guilty.

“Yes, I did reach that part,” Sombra replied and Krystal talked for a minute about how important Solitario was. To Sombra, she seemed like a generic love interest, nothing more.

After a brief talk — filled with uninteresting comments and other trash talk — they discussed their opinion on the overall story and characters. Suddenly, Krystal stopped talking and sighed.

“Great, we just met after not seeing each other for over three months, and we're already arguing,” she said. Casually, she swiped the sweat from her forehead, probably induced by the heated discussion.

“Yeah, I agree. Let's talk about something else.”

“Say... When is Emperor Lux's Coronation day?” Krystal suddenly brightened, and looked at Sombra who raised his head and glanced at her, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

“In about a month, so?” Sombra answered after a moment of thought. The day of the monarch’s coronation was a holiday in any self-respecting country.

“There's always a fair held at the park. This year, it's park’s turn to hold it! What if we visit?” Krystal asked excitedly. Her eyes sparkled with interest while Sombra looked away.

He didn't have money to go to fairs. The entry was free, of course, but what were they supposed to eat? What were they supposed to drink? What would he do when Krystal wanted to play a game of sorts? Sombra didn't want to humiliate himself.

“Aw, come on, Sombra. It’ll be fun. Maybe we'll even see the Emperor!” Krystal said, but when she saw that Sombra continued to hold the unsure mien, she tried an alternative method of convincing. “Come on, Sombra, don't be such a killjoy. It'll be loads of fun! We'll play games, we'll walk around. Just you and me, like true best friends forever.”

Sombra looked around for a second. He considered the idea of going to the fair with Krystal a bit unsettling. After all, she was a mare and he was a colt. And when colt and a mare went out to the same place, it was called a...

“Date...” Sombra whispered to himself before he could stop it. Thankfully, Krystal didn’t seem to have noticed. This felt a bit weird. Was Krystal trying to hit on him or something? However, he imagined himself and Krystal just having a bit of good time together, walking around the fare, looking at the clowns, the foreign traders, the guards dressed in golden armor, and he loved this picture. He certainly wanted to go to the fair with Krystal, if only to check out all the attractions, but with her as company.

“Alright, Krystal. If you want to go to the fare, I'll come with you.”

“Yay! We'll have a wonderful time! I suggest you prepare for the amounts of fun we're going to have – there's not too much time left!” she rejoiced and Sombra smiled weakly. Yes, there certainly wasn’t much time left. He had to find enough money to keep Krystal satisfied at that fair and himself from being completely humiliated.

He would know how to prevent that. Whatever it might cost.

"Why did you drag me all the way here?" Iron Wheel continued to whine as he and Sombra stood upon a hill wherefrom the marketplace was clearly visible. The unending hum and clatter was all around them and a copse of few trees was their only cover from the watchful eyes of the ponies on the market.

"Because I need you for something," Sombra said evenly while he observed the marketplace. Everything inside him shook, throbbed, and trembled, but he knew there was no other way. The coronation day was only a few weeks away and Krystal had looked so excited and happy about it, to the contrary, Sombra was anything but happy at the moment.

His father had become even lazier than before over the years. He barely brought any money home. Sombra could only salvage enough for food, for he had to leave behind quite a sum. If his father found out that he stole from him, he would be as good as dead.

With a long time to think to make decisions, Sombra had made peace with his conscience and soul.

"What for, exactly? I'm a busy pony, I have a lot of projects going," Iron Wheel lied as he approached to Sombra, glancing at him angrily.

"I need money. A lot, actually," the dark colored unicorn began without turning to face his conversation partner.

"How can I help you? Do you plan to sell something, genius? Gold doesn't grow on trees, you know!" Iron Wheel sighed.

He and Sombra weren't really getting along lately, mostly because they didn't talk at all. Sombra preferred the company of Krystal which left Iron Wheel to fend for himself.

"It's complicated. All I can say is that it's dangerous, but if we succeed, one third of it is yours," Sombra said. That caught Iron Wheel's attention.

"Sounds nice, but what exactly are you going to do, huh?" he asked, leaning on the tree so he would have a hoof free to scratch his side.

"We're going down there to the marketplace. Many ponies drag their purses with them, normally attached to their belts. You know yon thing you sometimes wear around your waist? Yes, that one. If I'm quick enough, I'll be able to snatch the purse and run away. But I can't do it alone; the victim must be distracted," Sombra explained quickly because he feared Iron might disrupt him when he saw his eyes becoming rounder and rounder.

"You want us... to steal?! Are you out of your mind?! You're freaking insane, mad, cuckoo, nuts! Do you even realize what would happen if we get caught?" Iron Wheel shouted at Sombra. He had a good point, but Sombra had already made his decision. "It's that girl, Sombra, I tell you. She's a horrible influence!"

"Shut up!" he barked which really did shut him up in a moment’s notice. "Listen, if our friendship means anything to you – help me! I really, really need damn money and I'm a goner if I don't find some. Please, I beg you,” Sombra pleaded, grabbing him by the neck – not strong, just enough to draw his attention, “Help me! If you refuse now, I'm as good as dead."

Iron Wheel swallowed, scared by the sudden assault, but he finally realized that Sombra meant business. His eyes were full of silent plea, with small notes of anger and sadness mixed thereto. It was amazing how many feelings fit into these green eyes. Iron Wheel sighed heavily.

"Alright... I will help you, but only because we're friends... kind of," he finally relented, and Sombra let him go. "I still get one third?"

"Of course. And if we get caught, shift the blame on me," Sombra noted, but Iron Wheel shook his head.

"Let's not talk about it. We won't get caught," he tried to relax himself. "So, I need to distract them while you snatch the money? Alright... sounds easy enough."

Sombra smiled at him. They didn't quarrel too long at least. Maybe they really would become real friends. Sombra might even manage to re-acquaint him with Krystal, show him how she really was.

He took a deep breath and prepared himself. He quickly explained the scheme to Iron Wheel. The maroon colored pony slowly nodded to his every word. The plan was simple: Sombra would pick a target, the pony with either the biggest purse or the most distracted one. Iron Wheel would walk unto the target and engage in a conversation while Sombra carefully took the purse and left without raising any alert. The marketplace was crowded; it would be hard to figure out who had stolen the purse and when, unless they were to be caught red-hoofed. After that, Iron Wheel would simply leave the scene of the crime along with Sombra. Then they would look for another target to repeat the procedure.

Even though the scheme was simple, it was still hard to execute. Iron Wheel worried greatly, his forehead was covered in sweat in seconds. Sombra looked indifferent, but inside of him, his inner voice was still begging him to stop.

An amiable looking mare strolled peacefully through the bustling market. Her mane was of a burning, fiery red and her coat was maroon. She walked alone, casting her eyes hither and yon vacantly while her mind pondered the question what to buy. There was so much on the market yet she had so little use for many of the wares.

"Excuse me… miss," a weak voice reached her ears whereupon she just barely managed to hit the brakes in time to avoid crashing into a cute foal in front of her.

"Oi, there, you scared me, cutie," she said while waving her hoof in front of her in an attempt to disperse the dust she had stirred up with her sudden stop. The rains hadn't started yet, thus it was still very dusty. "What's the matter, sweetums?"

"I'm... lost. I just... stopped to look at the pretty flowers… and then...then she disappeared... I looked for her everywhere..." the foal mumbled as tiny streaks of bitter tears streamed down his crummy muzzle. The lady couldn't help but let out a small tear herself as she beheld the heartbreaking picture in front of her.

"Don't cry, youngling. We'll look for your mammy. Come closer," the trusting mare cooed in a soothing voice and hugged the adorable, poor kid. He quickly wrapped his tiny forehooves around her neck and pressed his head against her chest.

After a few seconds of warm hugging, they went around the marketplace together, looking for the foal's mother. Suddenly, the lady saw a trader she recalled to be indebted to.

"Wait up, sweetums. I need to deal with some minor annoyances," she instructed firmly and ventured to the trader's stand. He greeted her with a sly smile.

"Hoy there, miss. I assume you came back to pay the debt," the earth pony, a foreigner, sung a low basso. The lady replied with an annoyed smile; she was obviously not too fond of the mercantile earth ponies. She reached for the purse which peacefully hung on the side of the belt she wore. However, when the tip of her hoof was supposed to almost feel the weight of the coins in the leather purse, nothing happened. Her purse was gone.

She quickly turned around to ask the foal if he had seen anything, but there was nopony behind her except the unending crowd of ponies.

Iron Wheel stumbled over a rock and barely held his balance. He sighed heavily and leaned onto the wall near Sombra who was sitting on the ground, looking carefully at the purse that he had just stolen. The dark colored pony rolled the purse in his hooves, looking at every scratch, every little detail.

"Ugh... oh, my. Oh, Emperor... Oh, mommy, please, forgive me..." Iron Wheel panted as tears started streaming down his face. He had never faked his crying on the marketplace; those tears had been very real, but they were of a different nature than grief.

Sombra silently looked at the purse, weighing it with his magic, trying to value the amount of money they had managed to get. He felt bitter inside as he recalled that Willemite had had an almost identical purse. It had been of the same color, only a little bit less ponderous.

It was stolen from her in the same situation, identical scheme, identical actions.

"Mom..." Sombra whispered to himself, cursing with the only swear word he knew at that time, and pressed the weighty purse against his forehead. "Blyat!... I'm sorry... so sorry...”

What would Willemite say if she could still find out that he had committed such a crime? Would she cry? Would she shout? Would she understand? It hurt to think about it and, for this moment only, Sombra thanked the heavens that Willemite couldn't see him right now.

"I'm sorry, mom... So sorry," he repeated silently so that Iron Wheel — who was too busy swiping the tears from his eyes anyway — wouldn't hear him. A small, bitter tear ran down Sombra's grey muzzle, fell down to the ground and broke into thousands of tiny droplets. He quickly swiped the wet trail from his face and opened the purse. He had known that it wasn’t enough before he laid eyes upon the coins that it contained. He still needed more.

Iron Wheel brightened up a little bit when he saw the golden reflection of the coins, the yellow sunbeam dancing and reflecting in his eyes.

"That's nice. Very nice, I'll have to say. Are you up for some more?" Sombra asked, looking at his partner in crime who ground his teeth.

"Darn you... Alright. Let's go for one more. Only one more! Oh, I hope my mom won't find out," he said through his teeth before they both prepared for another round.

Field, my field

The weather was beautiful, simply marvelous even. It was that time of autumn which crystal ponies called Prancing Summer, usually happening around the end of September and the start of October. The autumn had already come, turning the once green leaves red and yellow, but the sky wasn't filled with grim clouds and it was relatively warm and sunny. A perfect time for a fair.

Sombra ran quickly. Loud clopping resounded through the air created by the connection of his hooves with the stone pavement. The small bag strapped to his side clinked loudly as he dodged the bystanders in his way. They would turn around and wonder whither the kid was so desperately running. For them, it was just another fair like every year before it and possibly every year past it. But for Sombra, it was a special fair, a unique carnival – because the first time was always magical.

Besides, he was eager to see Krystal as well. It probably wasn't the first time she would ever visit the coronation fair; she did seem like a pretty well versed girl in such matters. Sombra still remembered the fur-coat she had given to him. It was an expensive piece of clothing. Not many could afford to buy themselves something like this. But Sombra still wanted to show himself as the gentlecolt whom Krystal seemed to like.

The sound of drums and the noise of trumpets got closer and closer as Sombra joined a group of ponies dressed in strange foreign clothes. They had wide-brimmed linen hats and leather jackets with several of them having ribbons tied to the rivets. They spoke in a weird language, drawing words out for so long that it seemed like entire sentences were only one word.

They were obviously earth ponies, visitors from Earthville. One of them, a giant compared to Sombra, dropped a glance at him, the rough lines of his face softening in a smile.

he spoke Common with a booming basso which he tried to soften in order to not scare the kid. It seemed he was the leader of the group, for such a voice could only belong to a leader of some sorts.

Sombra replied, his Common still being quite weak. His sentences sounded unnatural, learned by rote, which made the earth pony laugh heartily. He had a very harsh voice and even his laughter sounded unnerving.

the giant chuckled and Sombra quickly proceeded to leave the earth ponies as they laughed between each other, evidently adoring the young child.

Sombra finally reached a hill wherefrom he could overlook the carnival and was astonished by its sheer size. There were hundreds of ponies walking and running between stands filled with things Sombra couldn't see from so far away. There were at least four rows of stands, disrupted only by small stages whereon some action was happening, probably dancing or singing. Sombra quickly rushed towards the entrance gate.

Krystal patiently stood just near the entry and Sombra stopped for a second when he saw her. Her long mane was braided in a carefully combed braid with a softly pink ribbon coiled around it. Her cheeks looked slightly red, probably a slight layer of red powder. When she noticed Sombra, she waved her hoof in the air, dragging him out of his trance. He shook his head quickly and approached her.

"You're a bit late." Krystal stated, looking at Sombra with a sly smile. He smiled shyly, still a bit confused by her fancy look.

"Sorry. I got lost on the way here," Sombra said. He wanted to compliment Krystal's looks, but his shyness only let him to blush a bit.

"Oh, my, there's just no changing you. Always remember: only ladies are allowed to be late," she said with barely restrained laughter. "Come on, there's so much to do here!"

They entered the fairgrounds together and quickly got lost in the crowd. Krystal seemed to feel alright while Sombra tried to avoid any physical contact with the crowd. He tried to stick close to Krystal who seemed to know her way around.

After a few minutes of turbulence in the crowd, they strolled through the rows of stands and caught sight of one that struck Krystal’s fancy in particular. Behind the counter of the stand was probably the fattest pony Sombra had ever laid eyes on. She wore a tiny white hat and smiled at any passing ponies. The stand itself housed all kinds of bakery: cupcakes, pies, cakes, pancakes and even the Empire's famous fritters.

"Ohmibiss, Sombra-a-a! Ohmibiss!" Krystal squealed as she saw and smelled the freshly baked goods. The corners of her mouth went up in a smile and her eyes assumed a pleading look.

"I do so want one! Oh, how I want one!" she said, coming closer to the stand. The trader looked at her and smiled.

"And you may have one! Best bakery in the Crystal Empire only for the coronation day. Prices so low you can stuff yourself with pies and still afford to buy yourself a carriage! You want to try some, milady?" the fat trader asked, leaning over the rows of cupcakes to Krystal.

"I would totally buy some... But I left my purse at home, because I'm on a diet! Aaah!" Krystal whined quite angrily, berating herself for following that stupid diet.

"Don't worry," Sombra said, smiling, finally seeing that his job hadn’t been for naught "Two cupcakes, please!"

Sombra wrapped several coins within his grey magic aura and dragged them out of the bag he was carrying. The trader happily caught them with magic of her own and passed two still warm cupcakes to Krystal. The girl almost exploded from joy.

"Thank you, my gentlecolt! So kind of you!" Krystal chirped and gave one cupcake to Sombra. She took a bite of her own, making quite a lot of noise while eating.

"Tastes like plus three kilos," she suddenly deadpanned, prompting a giggle from Sombra. He took a bite of his cupcake and it definitely tasted great. The trader wasn't lying – this was the product from the best bakery in the Empire.

"Let's check some attractions, shall we? I want to see the dancers!" Krystal said eagerly, holding her cupcake aloft with magic. They started moving through the crowd again, but this time, Sombra could actually gawk around a bit.

There was so much light around them. The different colors hurt his eyes, but he still liked the many ribbons and other decorations that were wrapped around the upper branches of trees and some stands, which looked like colorful streaks in the light. There were many posters depicting the great Emperor Lux along with his loyal servant, companion and friend Sanguine Procellar, the general of Legio Eternum.

Lux was a huge crystal unicorn and bigger than any pony in the Empire. His long, pure white mane was always waving in the wind and his coat, not far behind his mane in terms of whiteness, was a sight to behold. On the posters, he wore the legendary diamond armor which covered his body completely except for his neck and head. His big gold crown with two huge spikes and a crystal between them, hanging right above his horn, rested upon his head.

Sanguine was always depicted as the Emperor's sidekick because, well, he always was at his side, wearing a crimson colored helmet and armor. His panoply was always made out of crystal, as was the armor of all legionnaires of Legio Eternum. This was their distinctive feature: crystal armor, an expensive piece of art, which was nigh unto indestructible by brute force.

Sombra tore his eyes away from the poster and noticed that Krystal had not stopped to look at them like he did. He quickly dashed after her and caught up quickly.

The other stands were full of foreign goods: toys, food, books and even several pieces of art like pictures or figurines. Most of them were of Earthville's origin, though there were several pictures that looked like the work of a unicorn.

There was a stand where a sinewy looking earth pony folded and hoofed out strange paper objects. They looked like tea bags, akin to those Sombra sometimes saw in the school’s cafeteria. Ponies that bought these would come to a table wherebehind a skinny unicorn stood and waited for the customer to bring her the newly bought bag. The unicorn would then proceed by emptying the bag onto the table and wrapping the contents into tiny paper tubes.

When that was done, the buyer would take this little tube, put it in his mouth and light it on the end that was not in his mouth. If it was a crystal unicorn, he would simply use his own magic. If the pony was unfortunate to not possess a horn, the unicorn next to the table would light it instead. They would then walk into the crowd, leaving behind a smelly trail of smoke.

"Ugh, I hate tobacco. Makes me want to retch!" Krystal complained when they were unfortunate enough to pass through such a cloud. The smoke seeped into Sombra's lungs when inhaling, creating an itchy feeling in his throat. He coughed for a few seconds in which his eyes started to water. He had finally cleaned his throat when they approached a stand with quite a huge stage whereupon several mares in vividly colored clothes circled around and hoofed to a catchy beat. Several of them would pair up and use each other as support to stand bipedal while dancing from time to time.

Several male musicians were playing a beautiful tune just to the left of the performers, their clarinets and tambourines creating a beautiful symphony fitting for this dance.

The dancers moved in perfect sync with each other and were unafraid to show their talents to the fullest extent, for they seductively shook their rears in front of the crowd, making other mares boil with jealousy while stallions drooled with wide opened eyes. If there were mothers in the crowd, they would firstly try to cover their children's eyes and secondly slap their husbands on the back of the head.

Krystal looked at the dancers and sighed dreamily, tilting her head slightly.

"Oh my, just look at this complexity, at these forms. Poor mares, they must be starving themselves half to death to have this kind of figure. Oh, my," Krystal spoke, looking at the fiery dance. "One day, I'll be just like one of them."

Sombra stared at one of the dancers who caught his sight: a girl, younger than the others, probably at around 16 years. Her mane was pitch-black like his own and she had a light brown coat, creating a nice mix of colors. She turned around, her red skirt with black vertical lines cutting through the air. Their skirts were long enough to hide their lower bodies, but the effect they had on stallions when the tips of the skirt would fly up in the air and swiftly down again, just for a second revealing that seductive part most wives frowned upon, was impressive.

The girl moved a bit closer to the crowd and, with the help of her fellow dancer, did a pirouette. She suddenly stopped thereafter, allowing her beautiful comrades to step up. She looked into the crowd all the way with a smile.

Suddenly, it seemed to Sombra that she looked right at him. Her brown eyes over her rosy cheeks with several layers of makeup on them seemed to stare right into his soul. Sombra felt completely paralyzed, defenseless before the young enslaver of any stallions' heart. She smiled innocently, tilting her head to the left, her dark curls slightly touching her shoulder. A small strip of red cloth on her chest kept the dress on her. It looked so small and weak; a single movement would be enough to snap it, leaving her dress hanging like an unnecessary peel that could be easily removed by one movement of a hoof.

It looked like her whole body was oiled as the visible parts of it shone in the sunlight. The girl played with this tug a little while continuing to smile, moving her hoof thereunder and pulling it. Just a few more seconds and it would snap. If she would move even a bit after that, the dress would fall off, leaving her gorgeous body to be adored by the crowd.

Sombra's eyes widened and his heart started pounding uncontrollably. He even heard the blood pumping in his ears. He couldn't stop staring back at this girl and she seemed to enjoy having the young colt in her grasp. She would just need to say a word and the whole crowd would be staring at him, thinking him a pervert. But she remained silent, looking right back into his eyes.

She gently blew Sombra a kiss and gracefully jumped back into the fiery dance. The boy felt completely desolated inside; his cheeks felt like he was chewing burning coal. Something in his chest was swirling and cracking, burning him from inside. All his thoughts were plagued by that girl, or to be specific, her looks.

"Hey, Sombra! Are you there?" Krystal said, raising her voice. It seemed she had spoken something else before, but Sombra had been too busy 'checking out the view'.

"Oh... yes! I'm here! I just... got distracted," Sombra replied, trying to calm down the storm inside of him. Krystal smiled slyly.

"Sombra, I'm not blind. I could see how you ogled yonder dancer," she enunciated and Sombra turned as red as a ripe tomato. Krystal ignored his blush, rubbing her belly instead, looking at it with sadness as she flicked several cupcake-crumbs off her lips.

"Can't say I blame you... Shall we go on?" she offered whereto Sombra quickly concurred. He was more than happy to oblige since he felt as though he would start drooling if he spent one more second near these beautiful mares.

They continued their way through the carnival, mostly trying to avoid food stands while looking for toys and souvenirs instead.

After about an hour of just walking around, they approached a big stage where ponies would just come up and dance while others cheered and howled in the tune of music.

Sombra and Krystal observed for a while, watching adults whirl and dance around. Some danced solo, some danced in pairs, using each other as support, but they all laughed and enjoyed themselves.

A strange idea came to Sombra's mind. An idea that might be crazy, but he decided to go with it anyway, feeling heated by the vivid images of yon beautiful mare, her piercing glance as well as his newborn desire to experience something new.

"Krystal... would you..." Sombra said, turning red and pale at the same time, "dance with me?"

She looked at him with surprise. At first, she glanced into his eyes, then turned away and blushed. It seemed like there was a hurricane of words she wanted to say, but she only uttered a few.

"Do you know how to dance?" she asked and Sombra shyly shook his head. Krystal looked at him, blushing even more.

"Mmm... I might... teach you a few moves. I don't know much about dancing in a pair, never did it before..."

"I'm fine with anything. I just want to dance with you," Sombra said, almost choking on his own shyness. Pronouncing these words was difficult, but he realized that he really wanted to try it. The fire lit by the dancer demanded something new. Besides, they would undoubtedly have a lot of things to talk about when they had finished dancing.

"Good... then… let's go? You're first," Krystal said, her cheeks burning like two separate stars as they walked onto the stage. Several adults noticed the new pair on the stage and moved out of the way to give them some space.

The music changed from a lively fast paced carnival special to a slow, melodic composition of flute and piano. This was the main stage of the carnival as one could easily see by all the ponies there. Krystal unsurely took the first step towards Sombra, her face burning with bright red. Sombra, though just as shy, swallowed his fear and took a step forward towards her.

"Alright... I think it goes..." Krystal whispered right into his ear as they moved closer to each other. The musicians finished with the intro and the main part began.

"Left...right...left...right," the quiet whispers reached Sombra and he obediently followed the voice’s instructions. Only now he realized just how much he adored her voice. Though it was trembling right now, it still sounded melodic like the voice of a nightingale.

"Left and right... left and right... and turn," Krystal instructed as they both turned to the crowd. Sombra glanced at her when he was sure she had cast her eyes to the crowd, noticing the girl's chest going up and down and small drops of sweat running down her muzzle. She wasn't tired, no. She was scared.

Sombra swallowed the clot that was slowly forming in his throat, starting to regret his decision to dance. But there was no way back; he had started it, he had to finish it. After a brief break, Krystal turned to him.

"Now, left...right...left...left...right," she told Sombra and he tried to copy her moves, which he managed quite well. The crowd didn't seem to burst out in laughter, at least.

Krystal carefully shook her body around and moved closer to Sombra. The dance seemed a little bit like tap-dancing, though with less emphasis on taping and more on carefully moving one’s body around.

Krystal's mane shook in with the slight momentum as she tapped the wooden floor with her hooves. After a few seconds, there came a part wherein they were supposed to stand very close to each other – side by side. Her braid was just on her right side when she and Sombra took a stand. It felt incredibly soft and tender, a little bit tickling as well. The boy just couldn't resist but to press his body against her side just a little bit harder. The tickling on the side gave him a bit of courage. Krystal turned even redder, but she didn't say anything.

The dance continued and, in time, Sombra started to get the basics and to memorize them. Krystal no longer spoke; she was far too focused on keeping the tempo.

The music continued and it seemed like it would never stop. Moving like this actually started to get pretty tense as the moves became more and more complicated and Sombra experienced difficulties keeping up with Krystal who performed more and more convoluted moves.

The music thankfully ended and the crowd applauded to all the dancers on the stage before Sombra could horribly humiliate himself in front of so many ponies. He panted and breathed heavily as they got down from the stage.

"That was... weird. I never danced with a beginner before. It was always my instructor," Krystal spoke up first, taking a deep breath, filling her lungs with fresh air.

"You have a dance instructor?" Sombra asked with confusion. Krystal nodded in reply.

It started to get a little bit unsettling. Sombra's guesses about how rich Krystal's parents might be were all over the place. However, he suppressed those thoughts for now, for it didn’t matter.

"How did I do… out there?" Sombra dared to ask, filled with self-doubt.

"You did okay for a beginner. Pretty nice, actually. Nothing spectacular, though," she replied. "Why did you even decide to go there, if you didn't know how to dance?"

"I just thought we could have so much to talk about after we're finished dancing. Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable," He pawed the ground and looked away.

"No, no! I liked it a lot. It just felt... so weird, dancing beside you. Not just because you dance differently, but because of this... aura of yours," she said, trying to pick the most appropriate words. "You have this strange... warm aura. I just felt comfortable around you. Though..." she blushed before finishing the sentence, "you do need to remember to keep a little bit of distance during some parts..."

She spoke meekly, stuttering a bit. Sombra peeked at her and saw a smile, a shy smile on her face. Did she actually enjoy this and is this right now just her trying to keep the countenance of a lady? Did she actually enjoy being that close to me?

Sombra looked at her again, scanned her with his eyes and hoped that the reply to his unspoken question was yes. He felt weird admitting it, but he really enjoyed being near her, listening to her voice. Never before had they been so close to each other, so... intimate, one might say. Sombra tried to look at her more closely, but he couldn't. He just lost himself in her mane, suddenly imagining himself touching it, playing with it, mayhap even chewing it a bit. It looked so sleek and sweet…

The stage was taken by the musicians again as they adjusted their instruments in preparation to play again. However, they left a big amount of space in the center as if though something was supposed to stand there, or rather, somepony. A mare in snow-white lace dress slowly walked past the musicians while the crowd started loudly applauding on her sight. Sombra didn't even notice how she appeared as he gazed at her, trying to figure out whence she had come.

"Omibiss! I can't believe it!" Krystal screamed when she caught sight of the mare in white. "It's Lucia! I didn't think she would come here! But she did!"

Sombra strained his memory a bit, remembering where he heard that name before. His memory came up with a poster he had seen, depicting the mare in white in a graceful pose with the words: ‘Lucia, the angelic voice of the Empire’ thereunder. Also, Sombra remembered her from a music lesson at school back in the first grade. His teacher had called her the ‘muse in flesh’, a mare with the most beautiful voice to ever be conceived by mortal ponies. She always sung in a classical style, avoiding any new tendencies or styles. As foolish as some called her, she was the master of her style, and beloved by the citizens of the Crystal Empire.

"Wow!" Sombra uttered while he kept his eyes on Lucia as she sat down on the floor and fixed the knot on her dress with simple manipulations of magical streams. Her horn flashed light grey for a second and the crowd immediately went silent. In fact, the whole carnival went silent. It almost seemed like the world prepared itself to taste her honeyed voice.

Lucia started singing and her magnificent melodic voice filled Sombra's ears. She sung loud enough for many ponies to hear her yet she still sounded very calm. She wasn't even shouting. The timbre, the pitch – everything was in such harmony it felt magical. She was like a siren, charming the crowd with her songs.

The song itself told the story of a field. A simple field that had existed long before the city had been erected here and would still exist long after this city had crumbled into dust and earth. She sung of what the field saw throughout its immortal life: life, death, love, suffering, glorious battles, horrible crimes, atrocious betrayals and true friendship. The field had seen everything; it bore the knowledge of millennia. There was something charming about travelling in the history of the field, something they could not even notice at all in their lives, for they ignored it completely. But even if they did, the field was still there. It gathered memories, it collected and kept them. And it would continue to do so even in a million years.

"I… adore her. Her voice is so beautiful. Her songs are so magnificent," Krystal whispered to herself, but Sombra heard her. He noted every word, every whisper that came out of her mouth now.

The memory of that poster was recent. It seemed she would hold a concert at the Sanguine's Opera theatre this winter. An insane idea crept unto Sombra's mind: he wanted to get tickets – two tickets, for him and for Krystal. This seemed like a wonderful idea, a perfect way to make her happy, and thus, to make himself happy. But the financial question arose quickly. The tickets had to cost a hefty sum, so what should he do? Where should he look for money?

Sombra drove away these thoughts for now; he would worry about that later. For now, he would just enjoy the moment of peace, contemplating the ideas and expectations of that concert, hoping that Krystal would accept his invitation.

Lucia finally turned silent and the air was immediately filled with the sounds of applauds and screams, hailing her, praising her. She elegantly bowed to the crowd several times, accepting the flowers some threw onto the stage whereon she stood, and then left the stage through the stairs in the back where she could peacefully leave the carnival escorted by her servants without being disturbed.

The crowd suddenly turned silent as the musicians left the stage, too. Something stood still in Sombra's chest as he realized that the time for the main event had arrived.

The whole carnival was building up to this, the reason why everypony had come here. It was the coronation day; that meant the Emperor would visit this place right here, right now.

Sombra had heard stories and seen posters, but he had never seen the Emperor in person.

Everypony went silent: Krystal, Sombra, the traders, husbands, wives and children. All were waiting for their monarch to appear.

The ground started to shake and tremble as some kind of a cloud started forming right above the stage. Some looked up, but many were too scared to even raise their heads. The pure, milky-white cloud increased in size and the air started to crack and heat up with pure energy and raw power. The ground was shaken again, which caused several cracks to appear right under Sombra's hooves.

"Loyal subjects of the Empire! Behold and stare in awe, for this only happens once a year. Our beloved leader, the exalted celestial monarch and our emperor: Lux!" a booming voice out of nowhere announced and the crowd was deafened by the sound of thunder as the white cloud spew out a beam of light which struck down onto the stage’s surface. The wind raised from the impact made some ponies take a few steps back.

As the dust settled down, the firm sounds of several hooves hitting the wooden floor of the stage reached the ears of the crowd. From the dusty veil, the great Emperor Lux, wearing his golden crown and royal mantle, stepped forth.

The crowd immediately bowed before the great monarch. Sombra fell on his knees as well, but carefully raised his head to take just a peak at the Emperor. The sparkling of his skin was blinding and he was just as gigantic as the rumors said. The mighty unicorn looked upon his pitiful subjects and smiled widely. He was accompanied by a pony in crimson armor who held himself in the background, wearing a scary helmet depicting the face of a demon. He raised his hoof in a commanding gesture.

"Rise, Our subjects!" the white monarch commanded, his voice booming and vibrating. "We, the great Emperor Lux, The Burning Sun that shines upon Our land, the Endless Ocean that washes Our shores, the Mighty Wind that brings storm and prosperity alike, have descended upon you to declare that the celebration of Our coronation is officially open!"

The six legionnaires of Legio Eternum raised their right forehooves into the air.

"Hail to the Emperor!" they screamed at the top of their lungs as everypony in the crowd did the same thing.

"Hail to the Emperor!" Krystal shouted, looking somewhere else, afraid to look at the Emperor himself.

"Hail to the Emperor!" Sombra shouted, throwing his hoof up in the air, looking straight at the Emperor with amazement and pride for his country and for the Emperor. He was lucky to see the great monarch in person, hear his voice echoing in his ears and feel the incredible power of his magic that was enhanced by the Crystal Heart.

"Well, since we're done with official greetings, I would like to congratulate you all. Our great country hath made several significant steps towards achieving the goal I dream to see accomplished during my reign: my dream of equality, where every pony is unbound of the chains of his birth, where a simple farmer is free to talk to a prince whenever he and the prince desire and not when the rules of etiquette allow. I wish to see my subjects live in beautiful houses made out of the best materials so none will mock one another about their empty purse. I wish to see my subjects eat and drink healthily, each pony unafraid to take another slice of bread if he deserves it. I dream of seeing our children play together on the same field, in one room, talking to each other like equals, and lastly, I wish to see marriages between commoners and nobility, for nothing must stop love. Nothing!"

Ponies screamed loudly in joy as he finished his speech. Lux smiled, looking at the crowd, sometimes waving his hoof to greet a pony who was looking at him. Sombra was one of the lucky ones whom he waved to.

"One day, that dream will be achieved. And then I will have no need for my title, my crown and the rules that I am subjected to. I will be able to just step unto you and greet you as equals..." Lux continued, suddenly grinning like a wolf, "like this!"

He jumped into the air and the ground trembled from his massive weight. He aimed to land right in the center of the crowd. Ponies stumbled back, terrified of this sight which had the benefit of creating some space for Lux to land in. His horn started glowing with powerful magic in order to decrease his speed so he wouldn't crush anypony by accident. However, there was only one pony who didn't even move from his landing site.

Sombra, completely paralyzed, stood still as the Emperor landed right in front of him. The boy was but an insect compared to this gigantic crystal unicorn. If Lux put his hoof on him and applied some pressure, Sombra would turn into soup.

"Well, hello there,” Lux greeted the terrified boy nonchalantly, looking down upon him and lowering his head to get a closer look. Sombra almost threw himself to the ground, trying to bow before him, but was quickly seized by the powerful aura of his magic.

Sombra felt incredible power that could crush him in one second if the wielder so desired yet it grasped him softly, almost tenderly. Lux took great care not to disturb or hurt the child in any way.

"No, no. Do not bow. All you need to do is to greet me like you would greet your friend at school. Let's try again, ditya. Hello!" Lux spoke while he lifted Sombra up in the air. Sombra was paralyzed. Not because the Emperor himself held him in his levitation, but because of what he had said. ‘Ditya’ was a form of address that solely existed in Crystallian, though it was used rarely. It was like saying ‘Sir’ or ‘My Lord’ but instead of indicating formality, it was an invitation to informality, to speak to each other as equals. It was normally used by adults who wanted their children to speak freely. As that information finally reached Sombra’s brain, he stopped flailing his limbs uselessly in the air. The Emperor had spoken to him as equal!

"Hello..." Sombra whispered which made Lux smile.

"That's much better. Sorry for scaring you, though," he said while he carefully placed Sombra back on the ground. "I feel bad therefor… Here, have something as compensation."

A small tower of coins flew from under the Emperor's mantle and landed in front of Sombra who was laying on the ground with his eyes closed. The stack of gold coins flew apart and each coin, wrapped in a white aura, found a way into Sombra's bag.

After 'compensating' Sombra, Lux disappeared in a puff of white smoke and reappeared back on the stage.

"I wish you all a pleasant day. Have fun!" he proclaimed once he raised his hoof in a greeting manner whereupon the crowd hailed him once more.

Krystal quickly dragged a visibly shaken Sombra away, because now, everypony could get an audience with the Emperor and the crowd could simply crush the child without even noticing. They found safe haven near a wooden stand that sold books.

"Wow... this is so awesome!" Krystal gushed while swiping the dust off of Sombra. "That was such a gigantic honor. If anypony finds out about this at school, you'll be the number one star!"

"Krystal... please... don't tell anypony about this," Sombra pleaded between heavy panting which shocked Krystal greatly.

"But... why?" she asked and Sombra sighed heavily.

"I was... so... scared. The Emperor himself, I can't believe it... I think they'll laugh at me when they find out how cowardly I behaved in front of... him," Sombra uttered. "Please... let this be our secret – yours and mine, okay?"

Krystal swiped the last specks of dust away, looked at him, and smiled softly. "He-he... Of course, if you want this to be our secret, I won't tell anypony."

Her cheeks blushed just a little when she said that. "I think I'll go check out something else. Let's go?"

"Yeah, you go ahead. I'll catch up with you," Sombra replied, wanting to get a few moments of rest. Krystal reluctantly left him and he took a few minutes to process everything in his brain. He couldn't believe how scared, how defenseless and how weak he had been in the grip of such a mighty pony. But at the same time while being at his mercy, Sombra had felt that Lux wouldn't hurt him. Such great power was used to protect, not to harm.

The feeling of defenseless was completely different from the one he would feel when his drunken father approached to strike him.

Sombra rose up and noticed the display of books before him. These weren't simple books; these were books about magic and quite professional and advanced ones, too. What a surprise to find them being sold at the fair. However, many things were sold and bought here. Besides several other fairs, coronation day was the only carnival where things like these could be sold freely and not in specific stores.

Nature magic, elemental, arcane... and then Sombra noticed the black paper among this colorful library.

Dark magic. Even now, Sombra felt its presence emanating from it. It had been the energy of a book like this which had allowed him to witness the horror that had forever scarred his soul.

It was a quite big tome. The black front cover sported bright white letters which contrasted starkly with the black cover. The title read Arcana Abyssi.

He knew what he had gotten last time he had seen a book like this. This energy had hurt him, made him suffer, but Sombra felt that this time it... fawned to him as if it recognized him. His chest started to hurt a bit and his vision blurred, but the young unicorn kept standing.

It seemed this magic was attracted to him for some reason. He didn't know why or how that might even work, but mayhap the answers could be found in the book. All this seemed so interesting, so new. He had tried so much new stuff today already. Why not try some more?

For a second, the boy thought of what his father would think if he found out he even considered learning about dark magic now. He would be furious, but should Sombra even care? That drunkard could get angered by a flick of light if it happened to wake him up at the wrong time. His anger was nothing now since Sombra had become so much quicker and stronger. He still was no match for an adult, but he could outrun him easily so there should be nothing to worry about.

Sombra used his magic to withdraw several coins from his pocket and put them on the stand’s counter right next to a stack of books where it should be found by the owner. This had to suffice since the trader was gone, probably trying to get an audience with Lux. He then proceeded by wrapping the Arcana Abyssi in his grey energy essence and dragged it towards him. He carefully placed it in his bag, where it just barely fit, and quickly ran away to find Krystal.

***

"Mmm... don't know which one to pick: pegasus or gryphon? Both look very pretty," Krystal pondered, looking at the wooden toys displayed at the stand. She couldn't make up her mind whether she wanted a beautiful pegasus mare with carefully carved wings and a pretty blue ribbon tied to her neck, or a mighty gryphon that proudly held a chalice with its massive talons while smirking proudly. Both figurines were masterfully made, presumably by the same master, since the way they were crafted shared quite a few similarities.

"I like the gryphon. He looks so proud and powerful," Sombra commented as he thoroughly scanned both figures with his eyes. "He seems like the perfect protector."

Krystal outlined the wooden gryphon with her sight and gently stroked it.

"The surface is a bit rough and it's sharp around the edges," Krystal spoke absentmindedly, humming from time to time.

"It's a wooden figure. Of course it’s rough," Sombra rolled his eyes behind her back and touched the pegasus figure. To his surprise, it was smooth and pleasant to touch. It seemed this figure was made from some soft type of wood.

"So, how's the pegasus?" Krystal deadpanned. Sombra smiled in return.

"It's soft... Really soft," he said and returned his attention to the gryphon.

"I think I'll take the pegasus figure. Wait a second, I'll look for something to pay up with. Some traders still practice the old fashioned exchange trade.”

Sombra quickly turned away from the figure and withdrew several coins from his bag. These toys were pretty costly, but they looked magnificent. They were worth the price.

When Krystal noticed the money floating through the air, she squeaked. "No! No-no-no! You don't need to pay for me!" she protested, turning to Sombra.

"I paid for your muffin, what's wrong with buying you a toy?" he quipped in a teasing manner.

"Firstly, it was no muffin, it was a cupcake. Secondly, it didn't cost that much! Save the money for yourself, I don't need you to pay for me."

"I insist," Sombra's short reply turned Krystal silent. It was clear she wanted to say something else, but the words seemed stuck in her throat.

The trader accepted the payment and pushed the Pegasus figure towards Krystal. She looked at it meekly.

"I don't know why you are doing this, but... it would offend you if I decline your present?" she asked and Sombra nodded firmly. Krystal took the toy and eyed it for a bit.

"Thank you, Sombra. You are so generous... like a real gentlecolt," she complimented him, making Sombra blush a bit. For some reason, hearing praise from her right now felt particularly pleasant.

Together they started walking towards the exit as the sun slowly went down. The horizon slowly painted itself crimson and the few birds that lived in the Empire started to cease singing to retire for the night.

Sombra and Krystal were walking through the park, each holding something from the fair. The pegasus toy floated next to Krystal, wrapped in her magical grip, and Sombra carefully tried to cover the edges of the book that poked out of his bag. Most of the money had been spent on sweets and ice-cream, which they had eaten while discussing the recent events, the dancers (though Sombra kept quiet about the youngest of them flirting with him) and the Emperor's speech. Krystal wasn't keen on politics, but she listened to Sombra's rapt description of Lux.

However, their roles were soon reverted when the topic changed to music, with Sombra becoming the listener and Krystal being the speaker. Sombra really enjoyed this regular change of roles; it allowed him to keep things fresh and interesting unlike with Iron Wheel who wouldn't shut up sometimes.

"I like nature, you know. It changes so fast – from calm to furious, from beautiful to scary. You can never guess what will happen next," Krystal pronounced when she and Sombra stopped on the edge of a cliff overlooking a small field in the park. "It's so unpredictable... and adults hate everything that's unpredictable."

Sombra slowly shifted his eyes towards her.

"You remind of nature a bit... I mean, you are just as unpredictable. Just a few years ago, you tried to avoid me... now you buy me presents," Krystal giggled. "I feel so awkward right now... He-he."

"Me too... feel awkward, I mean... but thank you... it's very nice to hear that... especially from you," Sombra replied, making pauses, partially because he waited if Krystal wanted to say something more.

"You know, my mother always tells me that, one day, I'll have to choose a stallion that I would want to spend my whole life with..." she spoke and Sombra looked at her in great shock.

He had expected some nice compliment, but he didn't expect that at all.

Krystal herself realized what she had just said and turned almost completely crimson. She looked around in confusion with an awkward smile.

"So... you wanted to say..." Sombra began and Krystal looked at him shyly.

"Nothing... I just spoke rubbish there for a moment… He-he," Krystal said, looking around to calm her nerves. "I need to go now. Thank you for this wonderful evening. I enjoyed spending time with you so much."

She looked down onto the ground, trying to prevent Sombra from looking at her, only sometimes peeking at him bashfully. Sombra started to feel really awkward. He wanted to look away and say that it was alright, but he couldn't stop looking at her pretty face which was half-hidden behind her lush mane with soft shades of red on her plump cheeks.

"Ah.... I did...too."

"Thanks for all the presents... Sombra," she replied, pronouncing his name with what seemed like affection.

"Heh... don't mention it. You got to share, don't you?" Sombra tried to keep his cool in order to not fall into complete shyness as well.

"Goodbye... see you tomorrow, then…"

Sombra said his goodbyes and accompanied her with his glance as she left. He felt so weird right now. So much had happened today, so many weird things. It was so much for just one day.

But there was only one thought Sombra couldn't let go of. Not even the surprise by the Emperor could be compared to this.

He liked Krystal. He felt something strange, connecting him and her, something warm and fuzzy. He touched his chest right where his heart laid, remembering their dance and the fluffiness of her mane. He couldn't forget her now. Her image was stuck in his heart and in his mind.

His mind was set. He was sure that she felt something for him too, something akin to the feeling he had; and he would make her confess it!

Sombra remembered his plan on buying the tickets for the concert. They were sure to cost a large amount of money, but now, he was not fazed by anything. Sombra would gather the money; and he would buy these tickets, for him and her. He had to spend more time with her. He had to hear her confession. He wanted to know one thing… Was this warm feeling mutual?

Author's Note

The song, that is described in this chapter, is actually real!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IbW8f7lMVCI

Have a listen.

Ways to Achieve Your Wish

There were a lot of things to think about that evening several days past the fair. Sombra could have thought about the Emperor, his words and what he had said about equality. He could simply pat himself on the head for being lucky enough to be greeted by the majestic crystal unicorn.

The book of dark magic was lying on the top of his pile of books, for he planned to read it as soon as possible; he had even put away 'A Runaway from Fate'. However, there was a more important question he had to resolve, even more important than studying: where could he find enough money to buy tickets for the concert?

The concert would be held in winter, in December. Sombra still had a lot of time, but, as the bitter failure of yesterday had proven, his whole life might be in danger because of his illegal affairs.

It was supposed to be just another quick job like all others he and Iron Wheel had performed until this one time where everything went awry.

***

"Ah, sweet Abyss! Can't I get even a moment of peace?" the elderly stallion groused, throwing back his pale mane back and turning to his friend. "Can't you see I have this kid to take care of?"

He engaged in the conversation with his friend while Iron Wheel, the child the gentlecolt was talking about, looked around nervously. He carefully peeked around the stallion's back at the purse that hung on the belt to the stallion’s right and was spooked to see that it was still there.

He did everything according to plan: find a victim and lure it into the crowd where Sombra could safely steal the purse without getting noticed. But this guy just had to stop and chat with his friend – and only just a couple of meters from the huge crowd, which was just up ahead. Iron Wheel quickly looked around and tapped the stone pavement with his hooves, hoping to get his victim's attention, but it was fruitless.

Iron Wheel started to worry greatly. Sombra wouldn’t be happy if he were to be even a little bit late. This was threatening their entire operation! However, in this situation, Iron Wheel could only sigh heavily and wait till the colt finished his sweet talk.

Suddenly, Iron Wheel caught a glimpse of dark color with his peripheral vision. He wanted to turn around and take a closer look, but Sombra quickly dashed past him, almost knocking him down. He was fast, enormously so as he ran past the victim, raising a small cloud of dust. His horn started to glow and his magical aura engulfed the small purse. Sombra certainly knew how to handle his magic, being able to easily focus the magical streams, draw power from them, and manipulate the matter to suit his needs.

Iron Wheel had always been a bit scared of magic users. He was a pureblooded crystal pony and thus never had to deal with such things as magical streams and all that mumbo-jumbo. He considered having no horn a gift, to an extent. Magic was the only justification for Sombra's weird behavior lately. The stealing affair, though very useful in financial side of question, but the moral...

Iron Wheel had spent at least several nights in his bed, trying to smother his guilt with the pillow — which also dried his tears quite nicely — as the images of ponies in confusion and panic when they noticed their purses missing haunted his young mind. Sombra seemed unaffected by guilt at all, or maybe he was just hiding it masterfully. Iron Wheel speculated these were the effects of magic.

The small strap, attaching the purse to the belt, snapped loudly. Sombra quickly dashed away from the victim, trying to get away as fast as possible.

"Hey! Thief! Catch him!" the stallion screamed, alerting the crowd. His friend rushed towards the escaping Sombra while Iron Wheel ran as fast as he could away from the scene. He made his way through the back alleys to the safe point where he and Sombra were supposed to meet. However, when Iron Wheel looked around the corner, he saw the stallion's friend towering above Sombra who backed away into the corner.

"I've got you now, thief!" the stallion said in a furious voice, preparing to strike the ignorant brat. Sombra pressed his back against a wall and closed his eyes.

Iron Wheel gathered up all his courage. There was no other way. From the day he was born, he had been told not to hurt others, he would do this.

"AAAAH!" Iron Wheel screamed loudly which startled the stallion. He raised his hooves in preparation to run before he charged the bigger pony. The thug looked at Iron Wheel just in time to see him literally launching himself into his much larger frame. The charging pony felt a little spark of pride in his soul. Just a small one.

The impact knocked the stallion down, allowing Sombra to escape. He quickly pushed Iron Wheel away to help him increase the distance between the chaser before he could catch him.

They ran away together before the pony could get up. He blurted out a curse, but that was the fullest extent of the threat he posed right now.

***

Sombra still remembered the drilling glance that pony had pierced him with. It was an unforgettable experience he wouldn't wish upon anypony.

They almost got caught. If Sombra had just waited a little longer, everything would have turned out okay. He had lost patience, thought that he could pull it off on his own, and almost doomed them both in the process.

It had been his fault entirely, but Iron Wheel remained silent about it, not saying anything to Sombra. Maybe he was too scared to accuse his friend.

In any case, this was a signal for them both to lay low for a while. They couldn't afford getting caught again; they might not be so lucky to escape without consequences next time. He had to find another, safer way to earn enough for the tickets.

Sombra finally got off his bed and took a slow walk across his room. He passed the table whereupon his old pictures were still piled up.

So funny. He hadn’t even cleaned the table after that dreadful night. When he needed to do homework, he would just slam the textbooks onto the top of the pile and write like this. He didn't even bother to look through them from time to time. Ever since Willemite had died, all pictures just... lost their meaning to him.

Sombra stopped for a second and put his left forehoof onto the table, his right one followed soon. With a simple thought, he started moving the pictures. Each one flashed before him for a second or two depending on how long it caught his interest.

All of these papers whereover he had poured his hopes and dreams so long were like a sore for his eyes. The wound inside his soul had healed slowly, but sights like this reopened them, just a little, causing a little blood to flow out before it would seal itself again.

How long shall I be bothered by these memories? Sombra thought to himself. He was so tired of feeling pain. Through all these years, he got the taste of happiness: Krystal helped him, made him feel more confident, made him forget about his loss just for a little. The nightmares became much less horrific after she 'helped' him at that bridge. Sombra could actually sleep through the nights now.

In fact, a lot about Krystal seemed familiar: her voice, her looks, her smile. Some of her traits were very familiar, too; the warmth coming from her, reminded him of home: a real home, not this one. A home, where he would always be welcome, always expected, always wanted. It would be so good to have such a home now.

Sombra sighed deeply and found himself a chair to sit upon. He needed to come up with an idea. An idea of earning money in a safe way without risking his life or his neck; the laws were quite harsh for criminals of any age.

The money Lux had given him at the fair was quite a hefty sum of money; though it wasn't enough, it would help significantly. He still had to buy food for himself, but if he cut the budget therefor a little bit...

He could take a few days without food anyway. He might borrow something from Krystal: a sandwich or two. He should also ask her to help him with lessons. Sombra had gotten in a bit of trouble with math and physics lately. He just couldn't understand them, all these formulas flew out of his head in an instant. Maybe she'd be able to shove all this knowledge into his dumb head.

Sombra took a deep breath and took a glance outside through the cracked window. The trees were still gold and red; the Prancing Summer was still in control. But how long was it until the real autumn, how long until the first snow would cover the ground? Nopony knew. All would come in its time, Sombra figured. He just hoped he could earn enough money before this faithful day came.

***

"Five hundred and fifty two... five hundred and fifty three—" a rude, hoarse voice reached Sombra's ears as he slowly pushed the door to the bakery ajar. The stale, warm air engulfed the young unicorn and seeped into his lungs. The sudden temperature-change made Sombra cough before he could adapt to the new atmosphere.

It was more of a shop than a bakery, really. Muffins and cakes looked pale, completely colorless, and even dusty in some places. Several shelves were broken, with nopony around that seemed picky enough to fix them. The welcome-sign outside depicted a big pony with a round belly, a happy smirk on its face. Quite a stark contrast to what was awaiting the costumers inside.

‘Fröhlich Brot': the only bakery in this entire part of Crystal City where commoners could buy bread. Willemite used to shop here often, sometimes paying extra for fresher loafs. The main reason this shop even existed was that its owner bought his flour not from earth ponies — whose flour was renowned as the best available — but from gryphons. It didn't make much sense for gryphons to compete with earth ponies in terms of agriculture; they always kept it to bare minimum to feed their people and army. The bread was rigid, a bit grey, and far from tasty, but it kept you fed.

The bakery was even named in the gryphon language – the owner couldn't have made it more obvious from whom he was buying the flour. Sombra had no grasp on the gryphon language, not even an idea, so he couldn't translate the name.

"Yes, welcome to Fröhlich Brot, how may I help you?" the shopkeeper, a middle-aged crystal pony with slender figure and wiry body, grumbled. The hair of his bottle green mane looked hoar at the ends and, adding to that, the black circles under his eyes didn't make him any prettier. He coughed loudly, barely managing to cover his mouth with a handkerchief which had lain nearby.

"Oh, a kid? Was zum Teufel are you doing here?" he said when he finally took a look at Sombra. The young colt didn't even understand what he meant, having no knowledge of the language that sounded like harsh gibberish to him, but he mustered the courage to say what he wanted to say.

"Hello, sir. I am looking for work," Sombra said and blushed slightly, though, he tried to hide it. He wasn't used to talking to adults, asking for things, or anything for that matter. The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow and carefully moved the gold he was counting away.

"Work? Usually parents come hither and ask me to teach their little, blood-sucking parasites a thing or two about life. But a parasite asking for a lesson, that's something new," he spoke derisively, chuckling a bit. Sombra felt offended by the term 'parasite', but paid no attention to it – he needed this job. He kept his cool and looked at the shopkeeper. He chuckled once again and started looking through the drawers of the table he was sitting at.

"Where did I put my damn cigarettes... ah, there they are," he grumbled, and slammed a little wooden box onto the table. He opened the box and found himself in trouble getting the cigarettes out of it.

"Urgh... eh, boy, a little help here?" he glanced at Sombra. The boy quickly approached and used magic to shove one of the paper tubes into the shopkeeper's mouth, even lighting it with a simple fire control spell.

After chewing on it for a bit, the shopkeeper inhaled and spat out several clouds of grey smoke.

"Well, can't say I'd be against the offer: assistants are always needed," he drawled with the stub in his mouth, inhaling once again, making Sombra cover his mouth. He didn’t want to breathe in the smoke, it smelled like a dead animal to him.

"Yeah, you may consider yourself hired. Monthly wage… Lemme think for a second," he paused to scratch his chin. "Fifty a week if you work every day and only if I am pleased with your effort. That would make three hundred a month."

Sombra sighed, blowing away the clouds of smoke that were floating towards him. This was far from ideal: he had to earn much more than this guy offered. But this was the only place close enough to his house and the only one where he had a shot at getting accepted; all others probably wouldn’t.

"Alright, I agree," Sombra said. "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow. However, there is a certain set of rules you have to follow," the shopkeeper grinned, showcasing his yellow teeth and ashen gingivae. Sombra felt a little uncomfortable when he smiled.

"First of all, my name is Mr. Sweet Tooth. That's what my momma called me and that's what you're gonna call me. So, rule number one: you always put Mr. in front of that name. If you call me Sweet, or Tooth, or Sweet Tooth without Mr., I'll smack you."

Sombra dropped a quick glance at Tooth's hooves, seeing their rough and jagged surface. It would hurt a lot if he really hit him.

"Rule number two: you stay silent. And I mean not a bloody whimper. If I hear a sound from you, you'll be flying across the room faster than you can say 'Oh, shit'," Sweet Tooth continued, puffing out another cloud of smoke, chewing the cigarette along the way.

"Rule number three: if you skip any day of your working week, you're not getting paid for that week. Simple as that!" he said conclusively, rolling the cigarette around with his teeth. "Remember these rules, kid, and we'll get along just ausgezeichnet!"

Another word from a language Sombra didn't know. He couldn't even guess if it had negative or positive meaning, so he just nodded, worried that this might be his only chance.

"Great! You can start working tomorrow. Don’t be late," he said dismissingly and looked to the side at his precious money. "Considering your school, I'll say you should come at 2 PM. The biggest flock of costumers comes in the middle of the day, so this will be an ideal time – for both you and me."

Sombra didn't argue, though this left him with little to no time for his other activities. He sighed once again, considering abandoning this idea, but quickly drove these considerations away. In the end, it’d all be worth it. He just had to take a deep breath and prepare for what his new work might throw at him.

***

"Some more butter, mayhap?" Krystal offered, looking at Sombra, who just gobbled up another sandwich.

"Yes, please!" he replied, his eyes filling with delight as Krystal placed another slice of bread covered in butter before him.

She took a good look at him. Sombra had changed since their visit to the coronation day. He’d become much busier, always seemed to be occupied with something and he always seemed to be thinking. Sometimes, he would just stare out of the window at the landscape, which was now covered in a slight veil of white: a sign of a young winter.

Sombra started to show signs of exhaustion recently. The skin under his eyes became dark, forming circles thereunder, and his attention span became shorter. He could read something in the book and instantly forget what it’d been about.

"Sombra... is something bothering you?" Krystal asked, leaning on the table, looking at the sleepy unicorn.

"Well... a lot, actually," Sombra said, putting away the half-eaten sandwich. "You know... I've recently found myself a job."

"A job! That's so cool! I'm very happy for you," Krystal responded excitedly. "It's a very important step in your life, you know. Everypony has to learn how to earn something by himself."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Sombra responded rashly, too tired and bored to listen to the tirade Krystal was likely to spill out any moment. "Job’s important and all... but I just can't stand it!"

"What do you mean?" Krystal asked, tilting her head in confusion. Sombra licked his dry lips and continued.

"It's very difficult. You see, I work at the bakery Fröhlich Brot. It's mostly physical work, like, carry this box there, put that box on that shelf, sort these files," he began, sometimes rubbing his forehead to get rid of the annoying headache. "I can deal with it... but the problem is the school. I spend a lot of time working and I don't have time to study or do homework. This earns me a tongue-lashing from some teachers."

He made a short pause to wrap the nearby cup of warm water with magical energy. After drenching his throat, he continued.

"I try to study... and then I miss my work. This gets me an unpaid week and—" he rubbed his forehead, whispering a silent 'ouch'.

"Oh, I see. You just need to—" Krystal wanted to give advice on better self-organization, but suddenly realized that she had nothing to recommend. She had no knowledge of Sombra's situation, no understanding. She didn't work, she had much more free time than Sombra had; she could study as much as she wanted. She had no right to lecture him.

"Nevermind... please, continue."

"Well... Krystal, I need a lot of money right now and I can't afford to lose it. Please... couldn’t you help me with my lessons?" Sombra asked and suddenly turned grim. "I feel bad asking you this... but I just... I need you to do homework for me."

When he said that, he turned red and turned away. Krystal looked at him with compassion and worry in her eyes.

"Sombra... you know that's a very bad thing... but please, tell me, what do you need money for? Mayhap I can help you with that?" she said, reaching him and touching his back. He glanced at her from under his black mane.

"I can't tell you right now. It's something very, very important. Just please... refuse already, alright? Stop tormenting me with hope," Sombra pleaded whereto Krystal nodded. He rarely asked her for anything and now he asked her for something so… wrong; it had to be such a blow to his pride. He realized that he just couldn't carry it on his own – he needed help.

Funny thing, even after everything that had happened between him and her, Krystal still barely knew him. She only knew what he had told her and vice versa. This was the cause for Krystal's insomnia for at least several times. She just couldn't accept living with half-truths and half the knowledge. She didn't have the courage to tell him everything, however. Maybe, when she was able to understand the funny feeling inside her chest, all the facades would be dropped and they could talk freely.

"Don't worry, Sombra. I'll do it for you. If you really think your work is more important than school... I'll help you," At that, Sombra turned to her and smiled. "But if I find out that it is some kind of a stupid prank, I'll kill you!"

"Believe me, Krystal, you won't be disappointed," Sombra replied with a smile, reassuring Krystal that he wasn’t deceiving her. "Thank you so much."

"Oh, no need to. You did a lot for me already and I'm grateful therefor. Though I never could express that gratitude," Krystal pronounced and bit off a piece of bread. She felt the little spark of guilt in her soul getting smaller.

"I still owe you now."

"No, you don't. Relax, Sombra, it's alright. I'll do your lessons and you focus on your work. Be wary, though: I'm bad at trigonometry. Can't draw a triangle without calling the sine a cosine."

Sombra chuckled, making Krystal smile for a moment. She really hoped his 'important work' was as important as he had told her. From all the talks she heard from her mother, boys his age might get into bad company. Krystal just prayed that this wasn't Sombra's case. He was so different; he wasn’t like the rest. It was like he was growing up by completely different rules, even different from the rules the kids around were followed.

He was strange, but that strangeness was his strong side. For some reason, Krystal just wanted to know more, to find out more. Maybe it was her curious nature, or maybe it was something else entirely.

***

The big cardboard box sent forth a loud crash when Sombra finally put it down onto the ground. There were at least over six kilos of flour in the damn box carefully strapped with ropes on the top so the contents wouldn't fall out during transportation. It took Sombra at least half an hour to carry this one box into the basement and there were still a dozen left. This was going to be a long day.

After taking a short break, Sombra gathered his will and opened the magical streams, channeling energy through his horn. The grey aura engulfed the heavy box and little drops of sweat began running down his muzzle as his struggle to keep control of this much weight went less and less in his favor.

He barely managed to shove the box onto the shelf, with just few particles of the flour still managing to seep through its surface. Sombra sighed heavily and leaned on the nearest wall.

The mundane job started to get to him. Mr. Sweet Tooth had started to take advantage of Sombra's magic and always made him carry something heavy, clean up the bakery or the office. Sometimes, he demanded that Sombra fetch him documents whenever he asked, always forgetting to tell which documents he needed. Bringing the wrong documents meant punishment for Sombra.

Mr. Sweet Tooth opened the old wooden door and entered the room, expressing surprise when he saw Sombra leaning on the wall.

"Slacking off, aren't we, mein Lieber?" he said tauntingly. Sombra felt frustration growing in him whenever he heard that tone: he had recently found out that he hated being made fun of.

"Apparently so, since I see no reason for these boxes not to be in their places!" Sweet went from taunting to an angry voice. "What am I paying you for? For standing around, not doing Scheiße?"

He started slowly circling around Sombra, stopping after a full circle to look him into the eyes.

"No, Mr. Sweet Tooth," Sombra replied and quickly received a slap on the forehead.

It had turned out that Tooth's hits didn't hurt at all. They were more annoying than painful – Sweet seemed to know how not to injure his little apprentice, but punish him nonetheless. It felt incredibly annoying being slapped around like some little misbehaving kid. Sombra could only thank the gods that it wasn't like his father's monthly beatings, however. He had barely managed to hide the bruises after the last one.

"Did you forget? You are not to talk unless I say that you may talk. Did I tell you to talk?" Sweet Tooth asked, leaning closer to Sombra. He wanted to reply 'no', but held back and shook his head instead.

"Exactly," Sweet Tooth said snidely and looked at the boxes Sombra had already carried onto the shelves. "I promise: if I see even a tiny scratch, you'll be left with no wage this week."

Sombra didn't reply and just looked down silently. He felt frustration rising in him – it wasn't his fault that these things were so heavy. He got tired so quickly, his mane was drenched with sweat and his heart suddenly started to pound like crazy. Red color covered his cheeks, and he started panting heavily, wondering what suddenly made him feel so exhausted.

"Ah, would you look at this!" Sweet Tooth mocked, making Sombra shudder from surprise. He spoke a bit too loud after this brief silence.

"Just look at this mess!" he said again, swiping a small patch of flour off the surface of the wooden shelf. The white cloud flew into the air and dissolved in several seconds. "Do you know how much money just dissolved into thin air?"

"It was just a small patch of flour!" Sombra blurted out, hiding his sight when he suddenly felt that harsh poke into the back of his head.

"What did I tell you about talking?" Sweet Tooth questioned and Sombra silently growled. When the dull pain in his nape settled down, he sighed and nodded obediently.

"Yes, it seems like you're working for free this week. I cannot tolerate inattention and laziness," the sickly thin pony decreed and slowly made his way back unto his office. When he slammed the door behind him, Sombra let out a growl.

"Go to Abyss, you damn idiot!" Sombra shouted at the closed door and bucked the wall behind him to let out some frustration. He got a sudden desire to crush something with his bare hooves, break something, tear it into tiny pieces. He hated the whole world and especially this damn dystrophic who couldn't show even a bit merci to him. What did he do to earn Tooth's hate, anyway?

Sombra breathed in and exhaled slowly, trying to relax. Anger boiled in him, urging him to break something, but he held back. He still had to work here after all. He looked at the rest of the remaining boxes and wrapped one of them in his magical aura. Yet another week of working without payment – he started to get used to it. It happened so often, Sombra slowly started to forgot that he was supposed to be paid at all.

And time wasn't waiting – the winter was already here. Right now, snow was falling quietly and peacefully onto the ground, forming small piles that would crunch funnily when stomped upon. Time was running out and Sombra wasn't advancing to his goal, he was slogging unto it like a hoofless invalid with his tail strapped to a dragon who tried to fly to the opposite direction. He would never collect enough money for the tickets at this rate.

But what could he do? Going back to stealing was no option; Sombra felt it with his gut that they would be caught eventually. He didn't want to risk it anymore; he just had to endure this torment of a job.

He felt a sudden weakness in his forehoofs. The magical pressure was too much for the exhausted colt to handle and he fell down onto his rump. The box plummeted down to the wooden floor. It didn't break, thankfully, it just got a few small cracks.

"You...damn...piece of… Argh," he sighed. It seemed he wouldn't finish until midnight.

***

Finally, the assignment was complete. After the last box was placed on the shelf, Sombra took a deep breath and sat down, relaxing his strained muscles. Even though he didn't move them physically, using magic to move something heavy took a toll on his organism, putting most pressure on muscles, consuming more and more energy the longer he held the box wrapped in his magical aura.

Ignoring the rivers of sweat that tried to reach his eyes, Sombra slowly proceeded to leave the storage room and entered the main hall. It was strangely dark and quiet. It seemed Mr. Sweet Tooth forgot to light the lantern. Sombra didn't want to disturb him anymore, however. What if he punished him once again? Working for free yet another week – no, thank you.

Sombra carefully tip-hoofed through the dark corridor, moonlight seeping through the windows and cracks in the walls. Specks of dust were visible in the light, creating an atmosphere of soft- and calmness like a sleepy veil, a blanket, covering the entire room. Sombra dared to disturb it and approach the door which led outside.

His eyelids were heavy and begging him to shut them. Everything seemed unclear, blurry and the rough wooden floor seemed like the softest bed in the entire world. Sombra couldn't wait to come home and collapse onto his bed, close his eyes and enjoy the trip to the dreamscape. He wrapped the door handle in the magical aura and opened it.

His dreams of sleep were crushed by the clicking sound of the lock. The door was closed and a small sheet of paper, which Sombra hadn't noticed before, fell from the doorhandle and onto the floor. Sombra's heart started beating faster as worry filled him. He picked up the paper and casted a simple illumination spell, lighting the room in the soft white light.

Dear slacker.

I am highly displeased with your less than satisfactory results. You treat your job very recklessly, like you don't even need it. That's not the attitude I want to see as an employer. I am highly disappointed.

I am not going to waste my patience on you. If you are so lazy that it took you that long to unload the shipment: enjoy your stay here. I am not going to wait for you to finish.

P.S. - Please, clean up before going to sleep. I don't like leaving a mess after work and I just didn't feel like grabbing a mop. Besides, you got that wand on your forehead. It'll be easier for you.

Yours truly, Mr. Sweet Tooth

Sombra's eyelid started twitching and his throat went completely dry. After finishing reading, not a single word fell from Sombra's lips as he slammed the letter into the ground and started tearing it apart in rage.

So many cuss words and just plain growls and grunts were whirling on Sombra's tongue right now, pleading to him to release them, fill the air with noise and screams.

He was not going to achieve anything. He wouldn't be able to gather enough money to buy the tickets, nothing would change, and everything would stay the same stupid, damn way. His life was nothing but a bunch of trials with no valid reward in the end. The reward was only more trials! How was he supposed to endure all of this?

Teachers, Sweet Tooth, every damn adult said the same thing: you have to work; you have to earn your place in life. But how in the flying Abyss was he supposed to earn it if they kept pushing him away from his goal? Why did these assholes keep bothering him? Why did they hate him so much?

Engulfed by blind rage and hatred to the whole world, Sombra gathered his magical power and unleashed it towards the nearby stand. The grey ball of energy reached the wooden obstacle and shattered the glass which protected the display of cupcakes and muffins. The sound of cracking glass reached Sombra's ears and made him back away in horror.

What had he done? This was horrible! Sweet Tooth would kill him for this! This was the end!

Sombra started walking back and forth, lost, trying to figure out how to act in this situation. It wasn't his fault; it wasn't his fault at all! He had snapped, he couldn't control himself. What was he supposed to do?

But the most important question was: what was he supposed to do now?

A shard of glass fell from its place and was shattered into small pieces, filling Sombra with even more regret and remorse. This definitely was the end. Sombra sat down on the floor, closed his eyes and put his head on the wooden surface. He felt small splinters prickling his cheek, but this pain was nothing compared to guilt and shame he felt right now.

By some reason, the scenes of him stealing, fooling ponies into losing their purses, seeped into his brain and stayed there. He couldn't think of anything else, besides his criminal affairs. How easy had it been, he would just grab and run. Nothing complicated. Right now, he might have just lost his only chance to get those tickets.

Suddenly, a small yet strange idea reached Sombra's mind. He raised his head and looked around the shop, noticing every stand and display case, every shelf. Everything that wasn't broken… yet.

Sombra knew where Sweet Tooth kept his finances – in a box that was safely locked away under the counter. He probably took the key with him, assuredly, but this was no problem.

Sombra's expression changed from despair and sadness to a sadistic cheshire-smile of joy. He was a genius. Why hadn’t he figured it out before? It was so simple: he’d just grab and run!

A powerful stream of energy struck the shelf holding some flower pots, snapping it in two. Pots fell onto the ground and shattered; half-dead flowers were now lying on the floor together with patches of back dirt which used to house them.

Sombra destroyed the shop slowly. He smashed the displays, squashed the muffins and cupcakes, turning them into a grey mish-mash. He cackled as he cracked several displays, putting all his frustration and anger into bending the wood and watched it crack and break asunder.

Anypony who would enter this bakery now would find it in complete ruins. Smiling viciously, Sombra went behind the counter and reached for the box wherein all the money was.

He didn't count for how long he had smashed the damn thing against a wall before the lock finally broke. Even though the box was very heavy, Sombra didn't experience any difficulties in lifting it with magic and smashing it open. It was like his anger made him stronger, more durable as though it gave him stamina.

When the pleasing crack reached Sombra, he dropped the box on the ground and lifted the cover. Coins flashed in the cold moonlight and Sombra smiled even more. He quickly found a linen bag and emptied the content of the box into it.

The money was his now, it was time to hide it. Sombra knew that he would be the first suspect if he just left. He needed to make sure Sweet Tooth thought him an innocent – a lazy, but innocent foal.

He smashed the window to smithereens, shards and pieces of the frame falling down onto the ground and into snow. Sombra threw the bag into the formed passage first, then climbed over the windowsill and found himself on the street.

The thin layer of snow sparkled in the moonlight, the midnight quietness disturbed by nothing but Sombra's hoofsteps. He reached a big pile of rubbish in the alleyway between the bakery and some other building wherein he hid the bag. The alleyway seemed like it was rarely visited and only used for shortcuts, or to drop off garbage if one was too lazy to carry it all the way to the rubbish dump several blocks away from here. Knowing that the money was safely hidden here, Sombra returned back to the bakery.

After climbing through the window, he took a careful look at the shards lying all around him. Now came the difficult part. It would hurt, but it had to be done.

Sombra levitated a small shard towards himself and swallowed the saliva that gathered in his mouth. This was difficult, but if he pulled it off, he'd have proven all these idiots wrong.

The boy clenched his teeth as he made a moderately sized cut on his wrist, only wounding flesh, avoiding any visible arteries. The blood poured out, sparkling strangely in the moonlight. After suppressing the pain, Sombra took a deep breath and started smearing his mane and head with his own blood. It felt so sticky; his hair quickly stuck together, making him feel uncomfortable. The desire to wash his mane with a lot of soap grew with every passing second.

Sombra raised his injured hoof and allowed the blood to drip onto the floor until a small puddle had formed thereon. As much as this idea disgusted him, it was necessary.

Sombra laid down on the floor, carefully placing his head in the center of the puddle. The liquid stuck to his cheek and temple, creating an unsettling feeling of wetness, but this was a sacrifice Sombra was ready to make for his and Krystal's good.

After making himself a bit more comfortable in the makeshift crime scene, Sombra closed his eyes and managed to drift away to sleep. A hard day awaited him tomorrow, but a joyful one as well. Sweet Tooth was in for one hell of a surprise.

Family

The sound of the creaking door hinges forced a weak effort to raise his eyelids from Sombra. His head pounded and his forehooves felt numb. When he tried to move, several tiny splinters in his flesh made their presence known. He whispered sounds of displeasure, but barely made any movements.

It seemed his whole body had gone numb. His bed might not be the softest in the world, but it was certainly better than the damn floor.

"What the holy sky happened?" the loud, worried voice of Sweet Tooth reached Sombra's ears. It startled him just a little bit, Tooth's voice being not the one he preferred to hear after having just woken up.

"What in.... Sombra! Boy, are you alright?" the unaware pony asked, approached Sombra and lifted his head just a tiny bit above ground level. The boy felt the dry blood weighing down his mane, which, in his half-awake state, felt like being strapped to a boulder that was falling down a pit.

"Ouch... I..." Sombra started to talk, partially faking the pain and partially being incredibly exhausted. Sweet Tooth quickly covered the boy's mouth with his hoof. Sombra glanced into his eyes wherein slight hints of fear, worry, and guilt were visible. For a moment, he thought that Sweet was actually concerned, but Sombra quickly figured out that he was just startled by the sight of chaos and blood — nothing more.

"Don't talk, kid. Does your head still hurt?" Sweet Tooth asked and Sombra nodded weakly. The shopkeeper sighed in return.

"Just keep still. I'll bring you some bandages."

In several minutes, Sweet Tooth helped Sombra bandage his head. He didn't even check if the wound was even there, thankfully. The boy managed to tear away a piece of bandage and wrap it around the cut on his hoof. Sweet was too busy inspecting the damage to his shop, letting Sombra do what he pleased with the medicine.

"What in the name of the Kaiser happened here?" he swore, again using a foreign word that the boy didn’t know. Sombra slowly looked round himself. He’d already come up with the story.

"I was cleaning up the floor here in the hall when I heard the sound of breaking glass. Before I could turn, I got knocked out. The thieves hit me straight in the head," Sombra narrated, rubbing the bandaged 'wound'. "Then they just left me to bleed on the floor. Before I’ve lost consciousness, I’ve heard them looking around and destroying everything."

He paused for a second to take a deep breath. Meanwhile, Sweet Tooth slowly approached his counter and his face distorted in despair and shock as he saw his precious chest smashed open and all the money gone.

"No! No, no, no! Scheiße!" he suddenly screamed, startling Sombra. "Oh, what am I going to do?! It's all gone!"

"What's wrong?" Sombra asked innocently, trying to make himself look like an innocent sheep, a victim of these supposed thieves. "What did they take?"

"What did they take? What did they take?! They took my cash! All of it!" Sweet Tooth lamented. "Do you even understand what that means?"

"Yes, yes I do," Sombra replied, relieved to know that Tooth had forgotten about his stupid rules. His head ached a bit from all those pokes in the past. But at last, there would be no more pokes, hits, or slaps.

"Damn it... I don't think I can last even to the next spring... I think I'm going to have to... close the shop," Sweet Tooth uttered these horrifying last words to himself. Sombra on the other hoof wasn’t even fazed. He just kept the mask of an innocent lamb and slowly, trying to cause as little pain as possible, tried to scratch the dried blood from his mane.

"May I... go home now? Please? My head hurts verily..." Sombra muttered, rubbing his bandaged head. He quickly started to sweat and it became really itchy underneath his new headgear.

"Yes... of course. Don't even need to come back anymore. Ugh..." Sweet Tooth said, and collapsed on the nearby chair, which also was the only undamaged one. He closed his eyes, looked up, and just sat like this, completely motionless, sometimes uttering a saddened sigh. Sombra made his way outside, unwilling to witness more of that scene of absolute despair. It made him feel horrible and somewhat guilty. But those feelings were, again, suppressed quickly.

He finally got out of the bakery, greeted by the cold wind and snowflakes, which continued to peacefully fall down onto the ground. Sombra inhaled, letting the cold bite his throat, refresh himself from the dusty air of the shop. Even a broken window couldn't fix that place, and he had surely swallowed up a lot of dust while he had slept there.

The bag was waiting for Sombra right where he had left it. Thankfully, everypony seemed to think of it as garbage, thus they didn’t check its contents. After swiping away a light cover of fluffy snow, Sombra used his telekinesis to put it on his back. He almost fell down from the amount of weight that he had to carry, but at least this burden was a pleasing one.

Sombra traversed the streets of Crystal City that were filled with the soft light of the morning sun. No clouds were present in the blue ocean above and the cold of the morrow had turned into mere freshness. The snow crunched under his hooves and wind played with his mane, which was still partially bound by the bandage.

A strange feeling of ease filled Sombra's heart. He felt strong, powerful. He felt like he could lift entire buildings all by himself.

The bag filled with money felt like a feather to him now. The coins hit each other, making clattering sounds that were surprisingly pleasing to the ear. The sound of success, that's what it is, Sombra thought to himself.

This was his reward, his money for working his croup off there, sparing no time and strength to please his employer; always trying to be on time. But how could he manage that every single day? Krystal had helped him with homework, but he still had to read to keep up with others. So many times he had already found himself asleep on the math, physics, or chemistry books. Formulas created by ponies that wore strange hats, and dictated everypony else the laws of nature and how you couldn't break them.

Teachers followed these hats-wearing ponies; whatever they said – it was a law. How one lived, how one walked, how one should look like and what one should wear. Krystal had gotten scolded so many times for her looks. She, apparently, refused to tie her mane into a braid every time she was at school. Sombra had to admit that she looked beautiful with a braid, but if she didn't want to wear it, why force her to? But they still continued to nag her about the stupid bride, and she looked very saddened by this sometimes.

Sweet Tooth with his set of rules as well. They seemed so simple, yet there had been so many instances where these rules had prevented Sombra from doing something useful, like giving him advice or just saying something relaxing or funny.

"Rule number two," Sombra whispered to himself, “Always, under any circumstances, stay silent.” Everypony Sombra had met seemed to embrace this rule: teachers, Sweet Tooth, and his father. Noises could rouse him from drunken sleep and lead him to Sombra's room, which always ended in several strong punches to the gut for the boy. Sombra even kept a separate towel for soaking up his own blood in order not to mess up his room.

They're all the same — every single one of them. They all seem so different and yet all their rules are the same: be beneath us; obey and follow the rules; live by the pointer.

Several ponies looked at Sombra when he passed by, sneering to each other, probably making jokes about what he could be carrying. Let them laugh, Sombra was done with this.

When he approached the park, he decided to take the scenic route, which led him to the steep edge of a hill. He decided to take a break and threw the bag onto the ground.

The view upon the park was amazing from here. The many naked trees with snow laying upon the branches seemed like an army or a crowd, standing in complete order. It was peaceful, calm, relaxing. Sombra, however, felt rebellious inside.

"So, you think you can put me in a line and treat me like a pawn: go there; do that, pick that; use those; look up; look down; and suck it?" he started talking to himself, knowing that nopony could hear him; this place was quite distant from the usual travel paths of ponies who passed through the park.

He didn't know why he had started to talk. He just felt so much at the same time and he felt the need to speak even if it was to the nature surrounding him. Deep inside, he pointed out the exact receivers of this message.

"Hey, you! Yes, you! You want me to follow your stupid rules, do what you tell me to do? You want me to abandon my dream and work my croup off so you can fulfill yours?" Sombra said angrily, mentally painting a picture of Sweet Tooth and almost every teacher he had ever met. "Well, I've got an answer for you…"

"Burn in Abyss! All of you!" Sombra suddenly, even to himself, shouted at the top of his lungs. Several trees below, not far away from his position, seemed to bend a little by the wind. But Sombra considered that his achievement. Even nature agreed with him.

The feeling of guilt was gone completely, replaced by pride. He did something on his own; he had proven that he could do it and that he didn't need rules to be happy. Yes, he’d stolen from those ponies on the market. Yes, he’d stolen from Sweet Tooth, and yes, he’d stolen from his father — and he was proud of it. He’d made them look like fools.

"Tricked... by a slacker," Sombra grinned as he approached the bag and opened it to take a look at his spoil. He would love to see Sweet Tooth's face if he ever found out that it was Sombra who stole all his money and who had evaded punishment completely — would be a good lesson for him.

Besides the beautiful, sparkling gold coins, there was also a small wooden box. Sombra raised his eyebrow, trying to figure out how it had gotten here. He had to have thrown it along with the money. It had been quite dark when he had bagged the money, he couldn't see clearly. Intrigued, Sombra wrapped the casket in the magical aura and dragged it out of the bag, hitting several coins along the way.

The second he opened it, the tart smell of tobacco pierced his nostrils and went right into his lungs. It smelled like the bark of a tree that had been locked up in a dry place for several dozen years. If Sombra dared to sniff it, he would surely choke to death.

The tobacco consisted seemingly of grained dust which was colored dark-brown, almost black. It really looked like pieces of a leaf that had been dried out to the point of crumbling and, after being mashed, it had simply been thrown into the casket.

Sombra remembered this stuff. On the carnival, some pale-skinned unicorns had rolled this stuff for those who were willing to buy it. Cigarettes, as they were called. He also recalled seeing many respectable-looking colts smoking these in the market. Sweet Tooth was also fond of them.

Adults seemed to adore these paper tubes and, as if by coincidence, several sheets of paper were attached to the inside cover of the box. Sombra raised his eyebrow and sneered. If the adults could, why couldn't he?

He levitated the paper sheet and scooped some tobacco inside it. He remembered how masterfully the unicorns on the fare had done it and carefully knocked it against the sides of the casket, so that the tobacco would fill the whole empty space inside the tube. Well, with a little bit of practice, he might master this art as well.

The cigarette was ready and Sombra levitated it towards his mouth and bit it right at the end. He felt a bit of sourness on his tongue, but paid no attention to it.

After chewing the cigarette for a second, he manipulated the magical streams, concentrating energy into his horn to form a small spark just near his face. The fire flushed and Sombra lit the tube on the opposite end. After letting it smoke for a while, he inhaled.

It felt like he’d just drunk a whole cup of tar in one go. The smoke went through his mouth and into his lungs, sending him into a frenzy of loud coughs. The smoke flew out of his mouth every time his lungs pushed out another patch of air. It streamed up into the air, making Sombra's eyes tear. He started beating his chest to get rid of the smoke, but to no avail.

In addition, the muscles in his throat started to contract, causing a gag reflex. Sombra noticed a small bush not far from his location and ran towards it, covering his mouth with his right forehoof.

He didn't know how much time he spent puking into the bush. It had to have been at least several minutes before he actually gained control over his stomach. After the retching had finally stopped, Sombra backed away and sat down onto the light snow. He felt a slight headache and his throat hurt. He inhaled deeply, trying to fill his lungs with fresh air.

It had felt so disgusting, sickening, to say the least. However, in the bunch of these negative feelings, Sombra had another one: the feeling of being in the wrong. Not guilt, no. The feeling when one did something bad, broke the rules, and would feel completely calm, even happy about it — This feeling of unbound freedom.

Yes! Sombra looked up into the sky and smiled at the sun. May the sun be his witness as he declared this – he was finally free from rules! He could do whatever he wanted. If he wanted to smoke, he'd smoke. If he wanted to learn dark magic, he'd learn it. If he wanted to cut school, he'd cut it. If he wanted to date Krystal, he'd date her. The money he had should be enough for the tickets, alright, and for much more. He might even consider himself rich.

With those thoughts, Sombra went back to the bag, picking up the casket along the way, and stepped onto the smoldering cigarette. Now, he just needed to reach his house, hide the money somewhere safe and then enjoy his life — his new, free life, free of pain and need.

***

The crimson horizon started to dim, the last rays of dying sun washed the tips of the trees that were covered in white snow. Crystal ponies were peacefully making their way home after a long day of exhausting work. The sounds of clopping hooves and crunching snow were dominant, for most preferred to be silent when they walked. The ponies formed a moderately sized 'river', slowly flowing to their destinations. Each pony was different, unique, and yet their features blurred in the crowd.

However, there was one pony who went against the tide, in the exact opposite direction. She carefully dodged any incoming body, sliding gracefully through the gaps.

Krystal couldn't afford to go around the crowd. She had to hurry, she couldn't be late. Not today.

The wind played with her clean, fragrant mane, trying to coil her curls around her neck and ears. Her blue scarf was also affected by the wind, its ends flapping around funnily. A thin layer of snowflakes was covering her fur-coat that was usually colored brown and black, but now it had the color white added to the palette.

A small golden pendant swung back and forth as she crushed the snow under her hooves. If one were to look into her pale blue eyes, he or she would see a strange mix of feelings: happiness, joy, tenderness, but also a small touch of sadness. Her mind was doing two things at once, and her partially worried, partially relaxed face was a clear indicator of a mental struggle Krystal waged against herself. However, yon struggle didn't slow her down even a bit, for she couldn't miss something like this.

Several days ago, Sombra had approached her, wearing a shy look on his face. His cheeks had looked so red she could have cooked eggs thereon.

He’d smiled awkwardly and looked at her while she slowly moved her sight towards him, asking a silent, what’s the matter?

"Hello," Sombra said, lowering his eyes. "How’re you doing?" His horn was aglow; he was surely holding something with telekinesis. Krystal tilted her head and looked at him questioningly.

"Hey, I'm doing alright," she replied and tried to look behind him. "Yourself?"

"I'm fine, thank you", he replied and immediately hid whatever he was keeping afloat with his body. Krystal raised an eyebrow.

"That's...good. I guess.... You look a bit worried. Is it something you wanted to say?" she pronounced and tried to peek over Sombra once again. "Or to show?"

"Yes, actually," Sombra paused to take a deep breath. "Krystal... I've worked so hard for this moment to come. I haven't slept for days, and I gave it everything I had. Krystal, I hope you will accept my invitation."

As he finished the sentence, a small paper flew from behind him. Intrigued by the question of what kind of paper could possess such value that Sombra would need to hide it from her.

The paper gently landed on her extended forehoof and she took a look. She looked upon it before her mouth formed a gentle smile and her vocal cords produced a girly squeal on their own accord.

"AAAAAH!" she squealed, forgetting about her usual behavior. Realization came like a shower of cold water.

"Oh, sorry. I think I lost my cool there. What I meant to say was... AAAAAH!" she couldn't resist but to squeal again.

And how couldn't she if, with her own eyes, she saw the tickets to the concert of her most beloved singer: Lucia.

"Sombra... I... I can't thank you enough!" she said, accepting the offer, smiling like a fife years old filly who just managed to reach the cookie jar. She looked at him, and just barely held back from hugging Sombra to death.

"Also, if you don't mind... I will come with you," he added timidly, revealing another ticket. "Of course, if you want somepony else to go with you, I can give this one as well. I wouldn't mi—" he was unable to finish before Krystal shoved her hoof right into his mouth.

"You shut up this instance! Now, I understand what you worked so hard for, and I will not behave like a thankless harlot. We will go together – you and I." she decreed, took a deep breath, and hugged Sombra. He was staggered for a second, and then gently stroked her mane.

"This will be so great! Do you know what kind of acoustics the Sanguine Theater has? You will love it, I promise you," she started to gabble while Sombra just stood there and listened.

Krystal calmed down from the euphoria that had taken hold of her, of course, and now her thoughts were a bit more philosophical. She wasn't thinking about the concert; Sombra consumed her thoughts instead.

Krystal couldn't understand. Why would he give her such a precious gift? These tickets cost a lot of money, a great sum. Whence would Sombra get so much money? And, even if he did find this much, why her? Was she really that important to him?

She could guess where he’d found money – he’d told her that he’d found a job, but to earn so much in such a short amount of time?

What am I thinking about? That's his business, not mine, I shouldn't concern myself with his ways of self-enrichment! It would be rude. she reproached herself. It didn't matter how he’d gotten the money; she should be grateful that his heart was big enough to invite her.

Or did he do it out of something else? Krystal got that idea when she came back home that day and couldn't stop thinking thereabout ever since. She was thinking about herself, Sombra and who they were in reality.

Friends? Definitely. They helped and supported each other whenever the need arose. They could talk to each other about anything... and yet they didn't. It seemed like Sombra was hiding something from her, but she had secrets of her own. They weren't horrible, but after such a gift, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Should she reveal her secret, or would it destroy all hope for their relationship, the chance that their friendship might become something more?

She truly wanted to get closer to the mysterious dark colored unicorn. She wanted to know what he felt and what he thought about her and the world. Krystal was the kind of a pony who liked to know other opinions on such topics as love, friendship and life which were often raised in books and novels. She thought about it so much, but she never had a friend she could share it with.

But was that really everything she wanted from the young colt? No, there was something more, and Krystal tried to hide it as deep inside herself as she could. She was far too shy to admit it, even to herself, and the excitement over seeing her idol today just might surrender to this buried feeling.

Finally, the beautiful walls of Sanguine Theatre, which were covered in colorful banners and posters of the most famous actors and singers in the empire, came into eyesight. The azure banners of the Crystal Empire were hanging under the roof of the beautiful building.

The main entrance, guarded by a soldier dressed in light crystal armor, was welcoming and just seemed inviting for any pony who passed by. Krystal let her sight wander until she spotted a small dash of black in the ocean of white. She hurried up to meet Sombra who stood by the streetlight and looked around impatiently.

"Hello!" Sombra greeted as Krystal approached him. She looked at him: he looked just as usual, only his mane looked far more stylized and bright than usual.

"Greetings, Sombra!" she said. "You look a bit... casual."

"Well, don't have much to wear," he replied nonchalantly and smiled.

Krystal chuckled and looked at the dresses of other ponies: expensive fur coats, jewelry. Even the stallions wore something fancy like medallions, bracelets, or even earpieces.

"Well, I'd say you already look better than most of these guys."

"I'll be the star of the show then," Sombra deadpanned and they both chuckled. At this happy note, they approached the guard.

A tall, muscular pony circled the two with his eyes, looking completely emotionless.

"Your tickets," he said in a cold voice whereupon Sombra quickly passed his and Krystal's tickets to him. They landed on his hoof and he dropped just one glance upon their rough surface before he looked up and smiled welcomingly.

"Welcome to the Sanguine Theatre! Please, maintain the order and follow the rules. I wish you an enjoyable evening!" the change in tone surprised both ponies, but they quickly proceeded past the guard when he stepped aside to grant them passage.

***

The Theater already looked beautiful from outside, though on the inside, one would love to stay forever, for the beauty of these ornamental walls, beautiful paintings, and incredibly soft lighting was impossible to dislike.

There were pieces of red majestic cloth embroidered with gold and silver coiling and fusing into different patterns flowing from the ceiling, creating the atmosphere of a real palace.

Sombra couldn't take his eyes off the ornaments on the walls. They depicted great battles, heartbreaking tragedies, glorious victories, and bitter defeats. The whole spectrum of feelings — love, hate, despair, horror, hope — was shown in these walls.

"It's so beautiful!" Sombra awed, still looking at the pictures and ornaments.

"Yes, it is. This theatre is legendary for its decoration," Krystal, who had already hung her fur-coat on the rack, said dreamily. She looked around, caught up in the hurricane of feelings, completely forgetting where she was going.

Meanwhile, Sombra stared at the carvings of Lux and his battles. He was shown leading the battle personally, keeping himself afloat in the sky surrounded by a white aura while his troops marched into battle against ponies dressed in dark armor.

Sombra knew the story of this picture from history lessons: at least 160 years ago, there had been a big rebellion. The nobles had started an uprising, wearing the black colors of the Weepers, to crush the Emperor whom they considered a tyrant. Lux crushed the rebels, but, to show them the errors of their beliefs, forgave all those who survived in the battle and let them go. It was a sign of great mercy and wisdom, for those who were spared could see the truth: Lux was a benevolent ruler.

There were several more carvings of great battles, but Sombra lost interest in them. He wanted to look at the paintings, but most of them were nothing spectacular. He decided to move on, thinking that Krystal would already be much further into the theatre.

His thoughts were proven wrong as he bumped right into her behind. Krystal squeaked, but managed to keep standing while Sombra fell down. It took him a few seconds to realize what just happened.

"Umm... sorry..." he blushed as Krystal turned around, still a little bit shaken.

"No, no. I'm sorry. I gawked around too much. Didn't think you would move," she said, trying to hide the red color on her face. She looked once more at Sombra, trying to find sufficient words.

"No, it's my fault. I should open my eyes and watch where I'm going," he retorted, getting up. Krystal smiled awkwardly at him and turned around as though nothing happened. Sombra guessed that they should just forget about the accident. But he just couldn't. It just felt like he’d struck the heaven with his head and then fell back from there! For a moment, he felt such softness around his face — his pillow, by comparison, would be solid concrete.

Sombra had to admit – Krystal certainly had something to look at. He blushed as he thought so, and tried not to look straight into her eyes as they walked down the hallway to the concert hall.

Krystal tried not to look at him as well, though with varying degrees of success. He noticed her glancing at him from time to time, her cheeks remaining just as red.

The concert hall was gigantic. The seats, upholstered with red cloth and cotton, took a giant amount of space – at least fifty rows. The ceiling was very high, and also ornamental, with the waves depicting the ocean flow. On the corners, where it was connecting to the walls, the statues of mighty dragons stood, holding the ceiling. The tension of their muscles could be seen on the lifeless surface of the crystal stone. The walls themselves were much less decorated than in the hallway, in order not to distract the observers from what happened on the stage.

The stage itself was big, fitting for such a concert hall. The mighty curtains that were made out of sky blue cloth and concealed the second wall of the theatre were embroidered with green patterns, which coiled around like snakes.

Sombra and Krystal found their seats in the middle of the thirtieth row and, because they’d come a bit early, made their way there without any problem. The seats were comfortable and quite warm. The red cloth was a bit spiny and Sombra needed a few moments to assume a comfortable position. He turned to Krystal, who was still struggling to find a fitting position.

"Agh, shoot!" she uttered, hoping that nopony would hear her – it was most unladylike to swear in public. When she noticed that Sombra had been looking at her, she quickly straightened up and blushed.

"The cloth's a bit spiny for my taste... uncomfortable to sit upon," she said, trying to come up with an excuse for her restlessness. Sombra nodded silently, still feeling a bit weird from the 'collision'. He just hoped that they would forget this as a simple accident.

The hall started to slowly fill with ponies and the sound of talking and whispering increased with every passing second. The more ponies came in, the louder the noise became. Soon, almost all the seats were taken, and ponies started just peacefully talking between each other. Some stallions tried to flirt with pretty mares around, some mares looked around for a suitable suitor, and some just rested their heads on their neighbor's shoulder and snored quietly.

Krystal finally found just the perfect position to sit, so she wrapped her tail around her hindhooves and relaxed a bit. Sombra insensibly peeked at her again, looking at the soft curls of her mane and remembering how soft they felt when she’d hugged him back there on the bridge.

"You have a very beautiful amulet," Sombra complimented and Krystal touched the pendant with her right forehoof.

"Thank you. Though, it's not an amulet – it's a pendant. Pure gold," Krystal said, moving her hoof, so Sombra had a better view upon it.

"Wow. It must cost a lot," Sombra noted, looking at its plain yet attractive surface.

"It has no price – it's my treasure."

As she said that, she smiled, and opened the pendant with her magic, revealing a small yet beautifully made picture. It was in black and white, depicting a family: a stallion wearing a tophat and sporting an impressive mustache, a pretty, smiling mare that tilted her head slightly to the right and wore a necklace, and a small filly that was sitting in the centre and smiled widely. Even though this picture was black and white, Sombra easily imagined the colors, giving each part of it a distinct and unique color.

"That's me and my family. My mother – Celene, and my dad, Lazarus, the one with the mustache," Krystal said, which prompted a giggle from Sombra.

"Yeah, I figured," he noted, earning a smile from Krystal. "And that filly is you?"

"Yes, that's me. Already chubby, even as a kid, am I not?" Krystal asked jokingly and Sombra allowed himself the courtesy of taking a closer look.

"You look so cute. He-he, don't know why, but I just want to pat your cheeks," Sombra quipped, tilting his head. She really looked very cute in her childhood – he got this weird desire to hug the little cutie and feel how warm her body was.

Alright, that's creepy, Sombra thought to himself.

"I get that a lot when I show this picture. You're not the first one," Krystal commented. "In this pendant, I keep those who I love the most. I want them to always be close to my heart... as close as possible," she said and closed the pendant, pressing it against her chest.

"You're a very kind pony," Sombra said, feeling the ache in his heart, remembering how devastated his portrait of his family looked. Was it even there anymore? He couldn't remember.

"Thank you. Though I can't be compared to you – you gave me so many presents already, I just can't thank you enough," Krystal said. "I mean, you bought the tickets for this concert, a concert I’ve dreamt about. I mean, I just love Lucia and her voice! It's like the chirring of a nightingale, only much more beautiful. It wakes such feelings inside me. It makes me think of distant, beautiful lands, or my own family; how we gather around the fireplace and tell stories to each other or share secrets. I and my mom have so many secrets to share... Ahh," she sighed and looked at the stage dreamily.

"Oh... Sombra. You never told me about your family. Would you like to tell me something about them, that is, if you want?"

Sombra coughed from surprise and went completely silent. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't tell her that his mom was....

"Sorry... I really don't like to talk about it...” Sombra repeated the memorized phrase.

"You say that every time I ask you about it... But I digress... Sorry, if this is a difficult subject for you. I just wanted to get to know you more," Krystal replied. "We've been friends for so long, and yet we don't know that much about each other."

"Well, now you know much more about me than I do about you. Does that make you my stalker?" she joked innocently. Sombra smiled at that and suddenly thought that, if he could stalk Krystal, he certainly would.

That's definitely creepy. What's wrong with me today, Sombra thought, trying to drive away the thoughts of stalking Krystal and the thoughts about her rear.

Alright, seriously, stop thinking! he started outright shouting at himself.

But it was so soft!

The bell rang, calling the ponies to keep quiet, and helping Sombra to drive away the kinky thoughts of Krystal's behind. The whole hall turned quiet, the noise died out, and silence reigned as the concert was about to begin.

Several minutes passed wherein the lights started to turn dim until the whole hall was engulfed in darkness, only the stage was illuminated by luminescent spheres which were located under the ceiling.

Suddenly, the quietness was shaken by beating drums and menacing piano accords. The great curtains started moving apart, revealing a whole battalion of soldiers in dark-colored armor, kneeling down in line. In front of them, a leader, probably a general, stood, wearing the same armor as his troops, but also bearing a long red scarf.

The general looked up, right at the audience, while the air was pierced with Lucia's angelic, disembodied voice as she started singing.

Many miles walked, many souls were sold
You stand at the verge of defeat.
You've chosen your fate, to doom leads this gate!
Turn back! You can still change your life!

Lucia sang as the general on the stage arose from his knees.

"How foolish we were... To think that, with the coming of the monarch, our lives would change! That the will of one be more important than the will of the millions!" he shouted, his voice resounding through the air like thunder’s crash, enhanced by the acoustics of the theatre. Sombra pressed himself into the seat, feeling threatened by such a powerful voice.

"Our leader is a fool! A traitor! A tyrant! And it is my duty as the Empire's protector to see him fall!" the general went on and turned to his army. "Arise! Ye, my brave warriors! Our time hath arrived; we shall fulfill our duty as the protectors of the Crystal Empire! Follow me into battle!" he screamed and the ponies arose, hailing their general, ready to follow him to battle.

The lights started to bunch up, forming the circle just next to the general. The army and its leader turned quiet and still as the muse, the mare in white, Lucia, entered the spotlight. Krystal made an excited expression and leaned forward.

Lucia looked at the silent general with sadness and took a deep breath.

"Oh, thou poor fool. You go against the stream, fight against the rules. You believe you can succeed in what you wish to do... Why, my love, why do you run from your fate?" Lucia pronounced, and even though she was speaking calmly, the sound of her soft voice reached the very ends of the hall.

Then, she finally started to sing. Sombra wasn't too familiar with her oeuvre, but now he wished he was. Her voice was pouring forward, enhanced by acoustics, filling the void in Sombra's soul, refreshing his mind like a soft calm zephyr in the summer.

She sung of a river — a strong river — full of power and determination. The river had a wise father, the forest, who guided her and lead her unto a better future. The river obeyed her father until she understood the full extent of her own power. Why flow forward and bring nourishment and prosperity to the lands of ponies along her shores... when she could flow out, destroy and consume these equines for her own gain and entertainment? She was their queen, their only source of life, and therefore she also was the one to decide who lived and who died, not the forest.

The father-forest was furious, even the trees were blustering and bending in fright of his wrath. He commanded his rebellious daughter to calm down and follow her course, but the river, sure of its power, tried to flood the forest.

Many animals, critters, and insects died in the flood, but the trees were still standing just as tall and strong as before. With heavy heart and bitter tears in form of rain, father-forest was forced to kill his daughter, thus he commanded his trees to block the source of the river. She died slowly and painfully, realizing her mistakes as she became more and more shallow and weak and, minutes before her death, she called to her father.

"Forgive me."

The father-forest blustered with the big pine-trees and birches, saddened by the betrayal.

"I forgive you."

The last drops of water disappeared, evaporated by the sun. Father-forest stood still, his valleys and fields empty and dead, and his beloved daughter killed by himself. His trees and fields started to wither and die as he slowly faded away, dying from sadness.

Sombra felt something warm touch his shoulder. He looked to his side and saw Krystal huddling to him as close as she could. A single, tiny tear ran down her pretty face and touched his fur, making him shudder from the sudden cold. Sombra slowly raised his forehoof and wrapped it slowly and shyly around Krystal. She didn't seem to protest, quite the opposite, she leaned even closer into him.

Warmth and fuzziness filled Sombra's soul. Her curls were slightly touching his skin, sending waves of pleasant shudders throughout his body. The touch of her cheek against his shoulder felt so akin to his mother’s. She, too, would sometimes lean onto him, wrap her hooves around him, and press him so hard against her chest that he could hear her heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump, the sounds of life, and Sombra would feel sleepy listening to them. He had, one time, fallen asleep in her embrace, right in the middle of the room. But he had still felt the wet touch of her lips on his cheek, even through his sleep.

Lucia slowly went silent and, as she pronounced the last words, the hall was filled with the thundering sounds of applause. Ponies raised their forehooves into the air and clapped them together as loud as they could, congratulating Lucia on the beautiful performance. She gracefully bowed before the audience.

"Thank you... thank you," she said in a calm, somehow even sad voice, as the soldiers and the general left the stage. "Now... the song, dedicated to all those who have a pony they love besides them. Please... remember that... the true love only happens once in a lifetime. Keep those ponies safe, and hold them near as long as you live."

It was strange – why did Lucia sound so sad saying these words? However, Sombra was swept away from these thoughts when she started singing again.

Lucia sung about a star, a lonely star in the sky that she had found one day. Its beauty and light attracted her, made her reach for it. She cried for the star, she sung for the star, and she went to sleep thinking about this star. A lonely star in the night sky.

It was the only star she had ever adored. All other stars were bleak and shallow compared to it. One day, she decided to finally reach for her beloved star to be with it once and for all. So she found the highest cliff in the whole world and took flight…

But how could a pony with no wings fly? While she fell to her doom, she begged the star to remember her, always shine onwards, and maybe, pour down its cold light upon her tombstone.

Sombra felt another cold tear falling onto his shoulder. He turned to Krystal to check if she was alright and was greeted by her big eyes that were full of bitter tears. She was staring right at him, right into his soul.

"Krystal... wha—" Sombra started to talk, but couldn't finish as Krystal suddenly closed in on him and kissed him right on the lips. He was staggered and shocked, to say the least, but he didn't push her away. He couldn't. He didn't want to.

The kiss left a taste of strawberries in Sombra's mouth. It felt so sweet, so beautiful. It was a moment that he wanted to last forever. His body stopped responding to his commands and he hugged Krystal completely on instinct. He didn't want to let her go anymore, and moved her closer and closer to himself.

Krystal moved away a little bit and looked at her friend. Her eyes were full of tears and her cheeks turned red. Her breath was warm and a bit irregular.

"Sombra... I..." she said and a small tear ran down her cheek. "I love you."

"Oh....I..." Sombra stammered, unable to find the right words, but she quickly stopped him by gently touching his lips with her hoof.

"No. Don't say anything. Just... wait till it's all over. I have to tell you the truth," she whispered and Sombra couldn't do anything but nod. He wanted to know what was going on.

He wanted to know, but at the same time, he didn't. What if it was something horrible? Like that they couldn't be together? He wanted to be with her. Closer to her. Feel her warmth. Sombra finally understood the fuzziness in his chest after the fare. He knew what he felt.

***

Sombra and Krystal walked alongside through the darkening streets of the Crystal City. They hadn’t spoken since the kiss and throughout the whole last part of concert. Krystal had leaned on his shoulder, dropping tiny cold tears onto his skin. Sombra couldn't understand why, but he’d felt the need to keep her close, to calm her down. But he’ been afraid to say anything – so he’d waited.

Krystal cried silently, though, not a single whimper fell from her lips. She just kept on walking, leading Sombra somewhere. He wanted to ask whither they were going, but kept silent. He knew that whatever she was about to tell or show him was not going to be pretty.

The moon was high up in the sky and there was no sign of clouds anywhere. The snowfall had stopped and the silence that had taken over the world was baffling. The only sound was the snow cracking under their hooves.

They finally reached the outskirts of the park. Sombra recognized the road along the way – Krystal used to travel by it. Was she taking him to her house?

After a few more minutes of walking, they came out to a grand sight. Krystal sat down into the snow and lowered her head.

"Sombra... this is where I live," she said, pointing at the gigantic mansion guarded by a metal fence. It looked like it was made out of red birch, quite an expensive material for building, used mostly by very rich merchants and noble families. There was a fountain just in the centre of the road that led to the entrance, and the roof was held by statues of mighty gargoyles that spread their wings as if they are about to take flight.

Sombra gawked like he was beholding the birth of a second sun right before his eyes.

"I've never told you the truth... All this time, I used you, accepted presents from you, pretended to be your friend..." Krystal’s voice trembled and tears fell from her muzzle.

"My father is an ambassador. He's rich, respected, and even feared in the world of nobility. My family supplied me with everything I ever wanted – toys, dresses, more toys... I was supposed to attend the Diamond Academy for the Gifted, because my father had a friend there," she continued to utter. "I have everything I wanted. Everything… and yet I still took presents and gifts from you."

Sombra stood still, not knowing what to say. Krystal was a noble. How was he supposed to act? Be angry, that she hadn't told him and willingly took everything he had given to her, pushing him even to the point of breaking the law?

"How I ended up at that school? My mother demanded that I would go to a simple school, not to one where I would learn to be a snob. She wanted me to learn how to talk with... with.... rabble!" Krystal blurted out and started crying loudly. Sombra stood still and looked at her.

"Don't just stare at me! Say something! Hit me! I can't bear to see you silent!" she shouted and fell on her knees before Sombra. "I love you, Abyss take you! I love you so much... and I was lying to you all this time! Please, Sombra.... don't remember me as a thankless harlot... I'm not like this. I'm not!"

Sombra slowly approached Krystal, who closed her eyes as if expecting him to strike her, and before she could say anything, he encased her in a warm, loving hug. She turned silent, surprised by the reaction.

"You saved my life, you know. On that bridge," Sombra whispered to her, remembering the bridge and his return to the light. "You gave me a new meaning, a new reason to live. I might have not known this before, but now I do – I love you too."

The pair stood for a second, Sombra holding Krystal tightly in his embrace.

"Just several years ago, a horrible tragedy befell me and my family. My mother... she died. She was my closest friend, the pony I loved most of all... My father turned bitter and cold after that, he doesn't need me anymore, he calls my mother... a whore..." Sombra spoke and tears started welling up in his eyes as well. "All these years, I lived in the darkness; I didn't want to live at all. Life was a pain, a complete and utter pointless idiocy... Until I met you."

He touched Krystal's cheeks with his hooves, swiping away her tears. She looked at him with her big, round eyes and her mouth slowly started to form a smile.

"That's why I never wanted to tell you about my family. I just don't have it... But now, you are my family... How could I hate you?" he said and Krystal finally smiled. "We held secrets from each other... so what? We love each other and that's all we need. I don't need the others – I need you. I don't need the whole world – just you."

Instead of saying anything, Krystal kissed Sombra again. Her lips tasted just as beautiful and sweet as before and he pressed her closer to himself, willing to get more out of this kiss. He wanted to make it last forever.

Krystal closed her eyes and simply allowed Sombra to caress her mane as much as he wanted. She had probably noticed that he liked it long ago and now, she would finally allow him to feel it much more personally.

When they finally moved away from each other, Krystal blushed, looked at Sombra, and smiled.

"Did... you like it?"

"Like it? I loved it!" Sombra replied in an excited voice. He felt so good, so happy, so easy right now.

"I'm... very sorry about your family. I kept pestering you and...” Sombra didn't let her finish and just put his hoof in front of her lips.

"No more talking about bad things. My father can be as cold as he wants to be – I don't care about him anymore. I love you, Krystal, and let's keep the topic on that, okay?"

She nodded silently and pressed her head against Sombra's chest. He carefully kissed her on her forehead, just below the horn.

That night, they barely managed to move apart from each other. Krystal promised Sombra that she would bring him gifts and make surprises for him as often as she could, asking him to just stay like he was now. When they finally left, each of them had a small, single tear of happiness running down their happy, smiling muzzles.

Author's Note

The songs, described in this chapter, also exist. The song about the river and the forest - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xzw1uIwr_tg

The song about the star: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6Z8tYNQ2Ic

Enjoy the early update!

Antisocial Behaviour

Author's Note

I want to see your comments, товарищи! If you don't comment, I'll comment for you!

Antisocial Behaviour

The principal's office was a place of quiet- and calmness. The dust hadn't been disturbed for months and in some places even ages. The books that rested safely upon the wooden shelves had been printed and released over 40 years ago. The previous principal was a big fan of adventure stories, and he had filled this office with these kinds of books. Ms. Lavender, an elderly mare with a dark-purple mane, which started to get white streaks on some parts, and light brown coat, carefully fixed the picture standing in a pretty grey frame on her table.

She enjoyed this kind of silence. Her career as a teacher had ended long ago. She still remembered those years with slight shudders and a phantom-pain in the general area of her rear. All the screams, all the scandals, each and every single one of those little monsters ready to sink their little teeth into her young, pure, fragile neck and suck out all the blood until she slowly suffocated—it was all gone. Now, she had earned her place in this office and her mark as well.

She carefully craned her head around and looked at the pretty picture on her flank, which depicted an open white book wherefrom white waves of energy seemed to flow out. Marks were like badges of honor in the Chrystal Empire, though, they were completely magical in nature. Not even a single sorcerer had ever managed to find out why they even existed.

It was universally known that ponies only received these marks when they found their true selves—that what defined them, their very soul—this was what they had to find in order to get one of these. Every pony got it eventually, but the most common age of its obtaining was around twenty-five up to the thirties.

Chrystal ponies were always baffled by how fast their neighbors from Great Fields got their marks. When spoken about, these marks were called ‘cutiemarks’, because that was the name it had in the language Common, though, most crystal ponies pronounced it as ‘cu-teh mark’ due to the phonology of the Crystallian language, which differed greatly from that of Common.

Getting a mark meant finding their true meaning for most crystal ponies. Some needed years for that, and there were rare cases of ponies dying without a mark even at the age of 40. However, Ms. Lavender was lucky to get her mark before the little pests that were her pupils had eaten her up completely.

She was the principal now. She could rest, she could walk around the school catching some skippers along the way to send them back to class—no worries, no noise, no problems.

Suddenly, Lavender's peace was disturbed by nervous knocking on the door. She lazily yawned and told the pony to come in.

It was her assistant, Mr. Crow Feather. His grey mane synergized quite well with his pale brown coat. He also served as head teacher here.

"Ms. Lavender... you have a... two visitors," he informed her in a quiet and worried tone. Lavender sighed heavily.

"Let me guess…"

"Yes, Ma’am," he said and opened the door completely so the principal could lay eyes upon the two troublemakers.

Ms. Lavender sighed yet again, sick of seeing these two in her office. There wasn't a week when these two wouldn't cause trouble. And it wasn't just usual trouble like running in the corridors or not doing their homework, no: fighting, vandalism, and—may the Emperor save their little souls—smoking! At this young age!

"Alright... ehem, come in and have a seat," she invited and moved two chairs closer to her table so the two ne’er-do-wells would directly face her.

"It's not like I was going to stand, anyway," the dark one replied quite rudely. Lavender gazed at him strictly.

"Sombra! How dare you talk to me that way?!" she snapped in an angry voice. Sombra just sneered arrogantly.

"I wasn't talking to you," he said, sat down, and looked at her. "Now I am."

Ms. Lavender growled quietly at his display of arrogance. She swore to herself that she would not reduce herself to shouting because of some brat.

Sombra tilted his head a bit, flexed his muscles, and yawned. The day couldn't have been more boring than it was. It was amazing how this idiot, Crow Feather, kept catching him.

Why wouldn't he understand that this wouldn't change anything and just let it slip?

"So, what was it again, Mr. Crow?" Lavender asked.

"I found these two in the school yard. Turned out that this one," and pointed accusingly at Sombra, who smirked in return, "got thrown out of the classroom. He told Ms. Long Mane to... ugh..."

"What did you tell Ms. Long Mane, Sombra?" Lavender asked flatly, looking at the dark unicorn.

"I’ve told her to go su—"

"Suck a phallus, ma’am" Crow hastily finished before Sombra did whereupon Lavender clenched her teeth.

"This is outrageous! How can you say that to a teacher? An adult, who lived much longer than you, knows more than you? Where do you find the nerve to say something like that?!" she shouted, finally losing her nerve. Sombra smirked at it and turned to his 'partner-in-crime', Iron Wheel, who was literally shrinking on his chair with every word that was shouted at the two of them. His face was pale and he frantically looked around as if looking for a corner to hide in... or cry in.

"Don't your parents teach you anything? Don't you know the basic rules of etiquette? Respect your elders!"

Oh, rules. Again. How these morons love rules.

"Wow, hold on there, Lavie," Sombra interrupted, making Lavender's eye twitch in fury. "I'm not the kind of a pony that blindly follows rules. You see..." He leaned closer to Ms. Lavender, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Rules are for losers."

"That's it!" Lavender screamed at him. "You're unbearable! Not only you started breaking the rules, but you're also dragging down this fine pony along with you!" She pointed at Iron Wheel, who seemed nigh unto tears by this point.

"He used to be such a fine pony! There was not even a single complaint from any teacher until he started hobnobbing with you!"

"You really don't know what you are talking about, do you?" Sombra asked as snarkily as he could. Lavender ignored him, but it worked to Sombra's favor. He would let the mare shout a little bit more, and then give her a piece of his mind that he had been itching to tell her for a long time now. But he just couldn't miss the chance, even though Iron Wheel was quietly whimpering to himself like a filly. He begged Sombra with his eyes to not annoy Lavender anymore. The poor little foal was scared.

"If this keeps going on, I'm going to have to contact your parents! Especially yours, Iron Wheel!"

"No! Please, no! Don't tell my mom and dad!" Iron Wheel finally found the strength to say something. "Please, don't!"

"I would love to not do this, but you're giving me no choice...." she looked into Iron Wheel’s wet eyes, and sighed. “Well, I'll go easy on you. For this time."

"But not in your case, Sombra! You're going to have to learn some manners, young colt! If I can't do that, your father certainly will!" she shouted, hoping to invoke every child's fear of their father, the leader of the family.

"Oh-ha-ha-ha! Don't make me laugh. Believing that my father can teach me something is the same as believing that fleas can dance ballet!" Sombra laughed right in her face.

"Please... don't be mad, Ms. Lavender. Sombra isn't right in the head," Iron Wheel pleaded in an attempt to save the situation, poking himself in the head to enforce his point.

"I can see that!" Lavender snapped at Iron Wheel before she suddenly moved so close to Sombra's face that it felt a bit uncomfortable. "Listen up, you insolent foal! You will learn respect and follow the rules, or else..." she took a deep breath.

"Or else I’ll expel you!" she screamed right at him. That, however, only served to widen Sombra’s grin, making it seem almost manic.

"Oh, my. Expel me! Oh no! Please no! Have mercy!" he parodied Iron Wheel, trying to make his voice sound as high pitched as possible. "I'm a small little girl and I'm about to wet myself because I'm so scared."

Iron Wheel looked at him with such offense, Sombra felt a little sad. Just a little.

"Now, listen to me. I'm a free pony. And you can't control me", he said, suddenly turning serious, his muscles straining and his eyes filling with anger. "I'm not your puppet, so leave the rules for the twats with no life who can't handle living on their own."

He looked at Lavender's desk whereupon many papers and pictures rested, probably all documents and work.

"You need manners? Have some of this!" Sombra growled and violently swiped everything off the table. A picture was sent flying, and, seconds later, crushed into the floor where it was buried by a small pile of crumbling paper. The sound of cracking glass could definitely be heard.

"That's my final answer! Go straight to Abyss!" Sombra screamed right into Lavender's face , got up and prepared to leave. "Iron Wheel... I am waiting."

Iron Wheel swallowed and nervously shifted his sight between Sombra and Lavender. A quick kick to the chair, which broke its leg and sent him flying face first to the floor was more than enough reason to follow Sombra.

"S...sorry... Goodbye, Ms. Lavender!" Iron Wheel uttered, still shrinking from fear, and slowly followed Sombra who proudly walked out of the office. Before leaving, Sombra used magic to slam the door shut, the impact making the shelves tremble and the month's old dust fly up into the air.

Lavender fell on her chair and sighed heavily, observing all this chaos caused by one rebellious colt.

"I need to quit this job."

***

Iron Wheel carefully swallowed as he and Sombra walked alongside each other through the corridor. Whenever they passed a pony, they would glance at the two with fear in their eyes. It was unsettling for the young colt how everything had changed in just a few years. From pariahs, outcasts, they had turned into the school's most known and most feared students.

Well, not exactly both of them. It was but Sombra who ponies were afraid of, no, absolutely terrified of, and for a good reason—who wouldn't be afraid of the big, muscular, dark colored unicorn with explosive temper?

"Good work, Admiral Pansy, nice job back there," Sombra quipped and carelessly slapped Iron Wheel on the forehead. "Not right in the head! Bwah!"

"Sorry, Sombra... I was just scared," he said, rubbing the aching part of his forehead. It hurt him more mentally than physically.

"Yes, I figured. As always," Sombra replied absentmindedly while staring down a third grader who peeped at him from behind a corner. The kid disappeared hastily.

"I'm getting sick of this. Every time we go to the office of Queen Bitch, you whimper like a little filly. That's not what I want to see," Sombra said without even looking at Iron Wheel who quickly swiped away the wet spots under his eyes.

"I'm sorry... I'm really, really sorry," he replied timidly.

"Sorry isn't enough. I'm sick of cleaning up your tears. Seriously, colt up!" he finally turned his disappointed gaze to Iron Wheel. They stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"If this happens one more time, I'm leaving your croup behind and move forward, ‘cause you're slowing me down. You got that?"

Iron Wheel took a deep breath and tried to look proud.

"Yes, Sombra. I will not disappoint you again. I promise," he said, speaking from the very bottom of his heart, and Sombra rewarded him with a smile.

"Very good. Now, let's go to the cafeteria to grab a bite. I'm pretty damn hungry," he decreed and Iron Wheel felt relieved. He moved a bit closer to Sombra, feeling protected near the mighty unicorn.

Iron Wheel really had to select his words carefully. Over the years, Sombra traded quietness and shyness for anger and aggressiveness. He never was an object of insults, but it seemed like he held a grudge against the whole world—nopony was safe.

He became so... powerful. Not in terms of strength, but in spirit. He had told Iron Wheel about the complete waste called ‘rules’ and taught him to live by himself. He had become so independent, so volitional. Iron Wheel just felt drawn to him.

Sombra opened the door that led to the cafeteria and proudly walked in, looking for a good table to sit at. He didn't even look towards his lonely scratched table he used to sit in front of every time. Noticing a comfortable table not far from him, Sombra went straight there, Iron Wheel following him quickly.

Two ponies of Sombra's age were peacefully eating at said table, but their repast was interrupted by Sombra who carelessly stomped his hoof right beside the dish, which made it shake and spill out some porridge.

"Mind if I sit here?" Sombra whispered right into the pony's ear who silently nodded in return and, with a grimace of fear on his face, gestured for his friend to get out of here. They left quickly and even forgot some snacks.

"Ah, perfect!" Sombra exclaimed to no one in particular, wrapped one of the sandwiches—which had been left here by the former occupants of the table—in his magical aura and moved it closer to him.

After a quick nosh, Sombra stretched out his front hooves and yawned. For some reason, he became sleepy every time he filled his belly.

"Sombra... what lesson do you have next?" Iron Wheel asked, pushing away the empty dish with several crumbles of bread remaining on it. "Just... asking."

"Lesson? Hah, are you kidding? I'm not having any lessons. Just look outside!" he replied, pointing his right hoof at the window. It was just the start of autumn, but summer was still strong. It was quite warm, but not too hot. It would be a shame to sit in a dusty classroom during a time like this.

"I'm not sitting and listening to yet another stupid lecture," he concluded. Iron Wheel took a look at him and sighed.

"I'll go with you, okay? If you don't mind..." he offered and Sombra nodded silently.

"Sure thing, bro. I'm not against good company. Besides, I'd still like to ask you a few questions. Between you and me and the gatepost, so to speak," he said, getting up. "Let's go before the bell. You wouldn't like getting caught again, would you?"

Iron Wheel nodded thereto and followed Sombra. He is so awesome! Iron Wheel thought. The unicorn might give him a friendly slap on the head, but it was all just in good spirit. Sombra was teaching him the way of freedom, as he called it. Deny the rules and live by your own.

Iron Wheel really wanted to adopt that motto, but his parents were a huge problem, having raised him with care and tenderness. If they found even a small scratch on their beloved son's body, they would raise all Abyss, and Iron Wheel would really hate to disappoint them, but, at the same time, he wanted to taste freedom. Sombra was giving him the chance to feel independent.

As they passed by another table, one of the occupants, a colt with light blue coat and grey mane, looked over his friend and stared at Sombra. It seemed he had seen how brusquely Sombra had kicked away those two boys and didn't like that too much. Maybe they were his pals, or friends of his friends. He didn't say anything, he just stared.

Sombra glanced into the colt’s eyes and narrowed his own, trying to stare him into submission. However, he didn't back off and kept staring back instead. Sombra didn't like that one bit.

"Hold on a sec, Iron. I need to teach somepony a lesson in physical education," Sombra said in a slightly annoyed voice.

"Sombra, there's no need to..."

"Oh, there is a need to. I want to – that's a good enough reason," Sombra cut him off bluntly, approaching the table where his supposed offender sat. The pony quickly reverted his eyes back to his food, but it was too late.

Sombra spun around and bucked the table, putting his entire strength into his hindhooves. The table almost overturned, sending all the dishes flying into the air. The pony, which just had his lunch flung hither and yon, sighed heavily and covered his face with his hoof.

After the table fell back into place, the poor offender was covered in porridge from mane to the tail. He scratched off a patch off his face and, by the way the porridge shifted, it was clear that he was either scared or angry.

Sombra smiled viciously at his victim, turned around and came back to Iron Wheel. It seemed the pony he just punished wanted to rise up and take some retribution, but his friend held him back from this foolish idea.

"I told you not to piss him off. Let it go! We'll wash it off later... Damn you, ruined my lunch... damn!" his friend whispered, more worried about his lunch than his friend's damaged honor.

***

The bell rang just as they entered the schoolyard. Sombra had only stopped to pick up a small bag he had left in the entrance hall, and right now, that bag was dangling back and forth while occasionally being held in place with his hoof in an attempt to stop said annoying dangling. They ventured for the backyard, which was rather quiet and peaceful. There were a few bushes, but nothing else.

Sombra sat down near the wall right beneath the closed windows which belonged to some classroom that was empty at the time. His horn started glowing and a little paper tube flew out of the bag he had carried.

"Could really go for a drag right now," Sombra said and put the cigarette in his mouth. After chewing it a bit, his horn flashed once more and a tiny tongue of flame slipped from its end and lit the cigarette. After letting it smoke for a bit, he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke tease his lungs, then exhaled, spitting out a grey cloud of smoke.

Iron Wheel looked at this process with interest and a bit of jealousy. He had never tried smoking, for his mother always taught him to follow the rules, but now, he started to doubt her words that smoking was bad. Sombra made it look so easy and cool.

After a few more drags, Sombra noticed that Iron Wheel was hungrily staring at the smoldering end of the cigarette.

"Huh? You want one?" he asked, lifting up another cigarette from his bag. Iron Wheel looked around nervously, thinking that somepony could see him.

"Really? Um... don't know if it's a good idea."

"Don't be a wuss. You afraid of something?" Sombra asked tauntingly and Iron Wheel shook his head.

"No... I'm not. Toss it here," he said and swiftly caught the cigarette in mid-air with his mouth.

"Don't breathe in all at once. It might cause you to vomit. Not pleasant," Sombra warned him, lighting the cigarette. "Just let it smoke for a while, get used to it."

"Okay," Iron Wheel replied, finally feeling the wrongness in his heart as the smoke slowly drifted up into the air before his eyes.

They stood together like this for several minutes, Sombra occasionally letting out a small cloud of smoke from his mouth. He kept silent, consumed by his own thoughts.

"Can you see how much everything has changed, Iron?" Sombra suddenly spoke. "Just a few years ago, I was so... shy! Afraid of the world, of the rules. Now, everything has changed!"

"It certainly has," Iron Wheel confirmed, admiring the smoke coming from his smoldering cigarette.

"Ah, ‘tis beautiful. This life suits me just fine," Sombra concluded. Iron Wheel thought about being free, rebellious, going against the flow. The unicorn, however, thought about his beloved. Being the most feared was good, of course, but he couldn't have achieved the strength and courage necessary to develop such a mindset without her.

Suddenly, the crunching of the leaves disturbed the peace of the two. Sombra quickly looked around and noticed an approaching pony. He was worried for a second, but then sighed with relief.

Krystal approached the two, looking verily tired. When she got closer, Sombra rolled the cigarette to the other side of his mouth and puffed out a cloud of smoke.

"Hello, sugar," he greeted, looking at her. "Hey, Iron, could you leave us? Adults need to talk."

"Hi, Krystal!" Iron Wheel greeted the newcomer as well, smiling awkwardly with the cigarette tilting slightly. She didn't even look at him and Sombra made a gesture that ordered him to get out of sight. He sighed, spat out the cigarette, and left the scene.

"Hello, sugar," Sombra repeated, coming to hug Krystal, but she stopped him just centimeters away from her. Her horn started glowing, and the cigarette flew out of Sombra's mouth and fell into the ground.

"Sombra, I thought I already asked you," she said in a serious voice, and Sombra's smirk disappeared from his face.

"Yes, Krystal, you did."

"And yet you still come here to smoke?"

"Krystal, I need something to soothe my nerves. You can imagine how much stress it is," he looked straight into her eyes.

"Sombra, I heard your excuses: nerves and all. But you are the one causing all this stress to yourself. Don't you notice how much trouble you cause?" she asked and Sombra looked somewhere away, digging through memories.

He had to admit, he did misbehave a lot. But how else would he beat the idea of him being untamable to all the idiots out there?

"Krys, I can understand your worries. But please, cut me some slack. I'm not coming up with excuses; I'm asking to give me more time."

Krystal sighed heavily and wrapped her hooves around Sombra's neck, delving them into his black, shiny mane.

"I'm worried about you. I fear that you might hurt yourself with behavior like this," she gently kissed him on the cheek. "Please, stay safe. You know that I'll kill myself if anything bad happens to you."

Sombra blushed a little. He loved being close to her, but it would be so awkward if anypony saw him right now. But nopony could, so his hooves were untied.

"Don't you worry, sweet cheeks. I can take care of myself just fine. You can sleep peacefully," he replied and rubbed his cheek against hers. He loved the warmth of her body, how her fur tickled him. It felt so beautiful to be near her.

"Sweet cheeks? Oh, my, the language. Where did you learn this urban talk?" Krystal asked, tilting her head.

"Ha-ha. Does it matter? I bet you'll teach me something better, better than any teacher."

"I sure hope so. You definitely need some lessons, though. Maybe you should go back to class?"

"Oh, no. I'm not going there. No, thank you."

"Uh.. well, I guess I am not really in the mood to learn, too," she figured. She wouldn't usually cut school, but, she thought, Sombra started to affect her. "Will you take a walk with me?"

"Sure. Let's go", Sombra replied. "Whither, though?"

"Hmm... I'll come up with something as we go. Just keep close to me. I don't want you to get lost."

Sombra chuckled and pressed Krystal closer to him. The girl had infinite potential in terms of speech and persuasion. Though, it wasn't really needed when dealing with him; he would do anything for her. There was bound to be some trouble in their life, but they would make it through.

Four years had passed since Krystal and Sombra had opened up for each other. Four years that had seemed like the happiest time of Sombra's life. He had become quite big and muscular, thanks to spending most of his time outside. In fact, he was now taller than Krystal, which he liked quite a lot—he couldn't stop imagining himself carrying her around like a little filly. Thankfully, Krystal had still maintained the pudgy figure that Sombra came to love. She was very pleasant to touch, her skin was incredibly soft, and her lips still tasted like strawberry.

Krystal's mane had become much longer and fluffier. Sombra, though he would never admit it, would scream inside his mind like a child when she allowed him to touch it.

The cold breeze made Krystal shudder, but Sombra pressed her harder against himself, trying to warm her.

"That's a rare breath of winter I feel... Don't know if I am looking forward to it or not," she said in a dreamy voice. "I like snow, I like playing therein... even at my age."

"Why don't you ever invite me to play in the snow with you? Do I seem too boring?" Sombra chirped jokingly.

"Well, it seems to me that you like to think of yourself as an adult with the entire ruckus you cause," she replied.

"Ha-ha-ha... Mayhap. But I still enjoy playing in the snow—especially with you."

"I'm glad to hear that," she said and leaned closer to him, asking for a kiss. He indulged her desire and after an innocent peck on the lips, she made an expression like she had just eaten something bitter.

"Yech... You taste like smoke... and ash. Ew," she groused, scratching her tongue against her teeth. Sombra chuckled quietly, blushing.

"Sorry...." he apologized, turning very serious all of a sudden. "Krystal... if you really don't want me to smoke... I'll drop it, I promise. If you really want it that badly—"

"Sombra, it's not that I don't want you to smoke. It's that I'm worried about your health. You know that smoking can kill you, right?"

Sombra had heard this phrase hundreds of times before. But the fact that it was Krystal who spoke it made him listen.

"In any case... let's just enjoy the moment, okay? I really don't want to nag you right now. Let's just find something to do," Krystal said whereto Sombra silently nodded. Though, what exactly could they do?

The nature around them was beautiful. The trees were a mix of golden, red, and green colors; the wind was mostly soft and warm, except several winds from the north. The leaves were dancing in the air, whirling and doing pirouettes.

Sombra and Krystal strayed from the path and walked deeper into the park. The grass was pleasantly tickling their hooves, rustling as they walked. As the time passed, they reached a medium sized pond. The water was crystal clean with several small dragonflies buzzing above its surface.

Krystal approached the pond and felt the water with her right hoof.

"It's quite warm," she noted, turned to Sombra, and smiled. "Do you feel like swimming?"

"Swimming? It's autumn, Krystal."

"Woo-ho-ho. Do I hear that from Mr. Break the Rules? What happened, Sombra, hmm?" she said in fake offence as she teasingly descended her hoof into the water. "It's still summer, just feel the air. It's warm."

"Krystal, you do remember how much of a bad cold you caught when you spent several minutes without your fur-coat in winter?" Sombra reminded. "Just one 'breath of winter' and you'll catch pneumonia!"

"Oh, relax, dear, everything is going to be fine. I've been on a heavy diet—nothing but fruits and vegetables. My immune system had to improve somehow," she sunk her hoof deeper into the water.

"No!" Sombra almost shouted. He quickly approached Krystal and gently moved her away from the water. "Your immune system may have gotten stronger, but I am not taking any risk."

Krystal smiled tenderly and wrapped her hooves around his neck. Sombra shuddered from the water that still clung to her hoof and was now running down his fur.

"Sombra... ah," she uttered. "You're such a mystery. One minute, you're the tough rebel, causing ruckus and being—excuse my language—a jackass. With me, you're softer than a kitten. Do you follow any logic at all, I wonder?"

Sombra smiled thereto. Yes, it seemed so weird. When Krystal was away, he allowed himself anything: cussing, smoking—anything. But near her, he heard the voice that told him to stop, told him to behave differently. Was this how love affected him? He didn't know, nor did he care.

"Why do I need logic when I have you? You seem to be handling that perfectly, muffin," Sombra replied. Krystal looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Don't you ever call me muffin. Ever," she groused whereupon Sombra just smiled awkwardly. He had forgotten that she was still unsatisfied with her figure.

"Oh well, if you really care about me so much, I'll stay out of the water," Krystal relented. "Will you swim, at least?"

"I think I will. I really need some relaxation right now. Could you watch my bag while you're at it?"

"Why, of course", Krystal said, taking the bag wherein Sombra kept his cigarettes. She put it on the ground and lay down on her belly, giggling as the grass tickled her. Meanwhile, Sombra entered the pond and started going wild in it, swimming like a fish, diving and turning around. Sometimes, he would kick the water, raising waves and splashing it all over the place. Some drops even landed on Krystal’s muzzle.

While Sombra was busy swimming, Krystal innocently opened his bag and looked inside. She was quite surprised that cigarettes weren’t the only thing therein. There was also a book in black covers with menacingly looking letters of the Royal Alphabet written on its front.

A cold chill ran through Krystal's spine. It was a book on dark magic. But why would Sombra have it? She didn't want to make any guesses, so she decided to wait until he would get out and ask him personally.

Meanwhile, Sombra swam like there was no tomorrow. He dived underwater, with bubbles popping as they touched the surface and got hit by the pressure change. He observed the green tendrils of seaweed that rocked back and forth underneath the water’s surface when he disturbed their peace.

Several small fish swam in front of his face and he took care not to flinch, afraid to scare them off. His horn started glowing weakly, allowing him to stay underwater longer. Finally, after feeling refreshed enough, he swam upwards and burst out of water, sending it flying into the air. He swung his mane around to get rid of the water that clung thereto and it slapped him right in the face.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, clearly not expecting that kind of outcome.

"Having fun?" Krystal shouted from the shore.

"Yeah. Kind of. Ouch!"

"Sombra, could you come here for a minute, please? I need to talk with you."

Sombra quickly swam to the shore, swinging his hooves to make himself move forward. After he felt solid ground underneath him again, he walked out of the water and shook his body, splashing water everywhere in the process. Krystal tried to shield herself from the drops.

"So, what's the matter, honey?" he asked, coming closer to her, and she revealed the book to him. Sombra staggered for a second before he collected himself again and frowned upon his beloved.

"You know, it's not nice to look through other ponies’ things without their approval," he chided Krystal who smiled.

"I know... But I am worried about you. Because, you know, it’s just cigarettes yet, but what if it becomes something stronger? I don't think that, at your rate, you'll be happy with tobacco alone," she pronounced carefully. "One moment, I was scared I'd find Dust therein."

Dust was milled crystals. If inhaled by a unicorn, it tripled its magical powers, as well as the sexual prowess. It was also highly addictive.

"Emperor forbid, no!" Sombra swung his hoof in the air, disgusted by the sheer idea of doing drugs. "Tobacco was as far as I went."

"That's... somewhat relieving. But that's beside the point. Tell me, are you learning dark magic?" she asked and Sombra's cheeks turned red.

"Well... yes. I am", he said. "So what, it’s completely legal."

"Sombra, dark magic is incredibly dangerous to learn without an instructor. I think you should know that if you listen to anything the teachers say."

"They never say anything useful! Why even bother?" Sombra said in an annoyed voice. Krystal sighed.

"They tell you the basic rules of life. Those you simply have to follow."

"Screw the rules!" Sombra replied with his motto. Krystal sighed once again.

"Yes, you're one tough fellow. Very tough," she said, getting up. "Oh... Sombra, please, be careful. I'm very worried about you—especially if you learn dark magic. It can hurt others and you as well. Please, be very, very careful with it."

"I will, Krystal", Sombra replied, though with less assurance in his voice. Krystal reacted quite peacefully to his practice of dark magic—not that he had expected something else. The dark arts were normally just taught at a few high profile schools as part of their educational program. It was clear that the school Sombra went to would never be able to afford the necessary instructors. Sombra had never told Krystal when he had first used it, though.

He had even managed to hide his sharp teeth from her. Their kisses never went far enough so she could ‘explore’ them herself.

"Well, now you got two things you promised me to do. Drop smoking, and being very careful. I suppose we should start with the former," Krystal chirped, evidently unwilling to sustain any unpleasant conversations anymore. "I might be a fragile girl, but I am certainly going to make sure you do everything you promised. So, five circles around this pond, sergeant!"

Sombra reared up on his hind hooves and dashed forward, running around the pond.

"I... don't know... how's this... supposed to... help... but I suppose you.... know better," he tried to speak which he found surprisingly hard to do while running in full gallop. The water from the pond started to mix up with his sweat.

"I do! Keep running. I won't leave you alone until all the desire to smoke literally transpires out of you! Run, Sombra, run!"

***

"I think that was very, very good," Krystal noted as they walked down a path that was covered in fallen leaves. "Five circles in 3 minutes. Not bad for a heavy smoker."

"Oh, yeah, sure...” he paused to breathe. “You try it. We’ll see if you do better..." He was exhausted from all the running, but thankfully, it was warm enough so he wouldn’t run around with a wet coat for the rest of the day.

"Oh, don't be a grump! Get used to it; you will be doing that a lot under my guidance. True stallions never smoke—and you want to be a true stallion?"

"I don't even know anymore," Sombra groused, prompting a giggle from Krystal. His grumpiness would sometimes make her laugh so much at times.

"Come on, Sombra! If you'll be a true stallion, you'll have a true mare by your side," she bumped him in the side before she leaned against him. "Slim, beautiful and loyal—only to you."

"Ugh, you always find a way out, you beautiful lady," Sombra retorted, slightly annoyed that Krystal sometimes used their relationship as a tool to get things done her way.

"Yes, I do," she looked at the sky. The sun was already descending, the horizon slowly turned crimson, and there were even bleak and shallow stars in the sky.

"Oh my, did we really spend that much time at the pond? It's evening already," Krystal said, looking at the beautiful horizon.

"Time flies by. One second, we just met, and the other second, we both have to go home," Sombra noted, not fazed by the view. He was far too concerned with his own thoughts.

"Well, I guess that's as far as I go. Goodbye, Sombra. See you tomorrow," Krystal said her goodbyes and headed her way, scattering the leaves in her way. "Hopefully, it won't be like today."

"No promises," Sombra said in a joking tone to conceal the fact that he didn’t rightly know how else to bid her farewell.

"Hah. Well, bye! See you!" Krystal said again and left while Sombra watched her every move.

She wasn't angry with him, that much he was sure of. But it was obvious that her way contradicted his way of living. It would be impossible for them to be together if they continued to exist on different moral levels. Sombra could allow himself to say something rude, he could even cause pain. Krystal couldn't.

A small little thought, like a parasite, stuck to Sombra's mind. There was a fine line betwixt what he was doing, which was mugging, stealing, causing mischief, and the point where he was nought but a criminal. He could clearly see that Krystal wasn't just worried about him hurting himself. She was worried about that little line he could cross.

Sombra imagined how it would feel like to kill a pony. He shuddered at the thought of himself towering over a lifeless body with blood dripping from his hooves, his heart filled with rage and satisfaction, his mind whispering nought but congratulations to himself, and insults to the victim.

He shook his head. He didn’t want to even think about it. The thought terrified even him, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. He didn't want to cross that line. He would not cross that line.

Sombra suppressed any more thoughts on this topic—memories, guesses, everything, especially memories.

He might not be a saint. But he would never kill.

Sombra let out a saddened sigh and looked around. There seemed to be nopony around. Krystal had long ago disappeared on the horizon.

Well, the Empire wasn't built in a day, he thought to himself as he rummaged about in his bag for another cigarette, which he lit before even putting it in his mouth. The smoke seemed a bit darker, almost crimson in color under the light of the setting sun. After puffing out a small cloud, he thought of what tomorrow would bring him.

He would not be running low on money any time soon. The hoard he got from Sweet Tooth had supplied him through all these years with wise spending. However, after months of inactivity and complete freedom, he started to get a bit bored—very bored, actually.

Maybe it would be a good idea to come up with some kind of business with Iron Wheel. Something really cool, something thrilling.

Sombra's head wasn't working right, for he couldn't come up with anything. It was far too late for thinking, he realized, when he bumped into the front door of his house. He rubbed his forehead and spat out the cigarette, which turned into a darkened, smoldering stump.

He carelessly pushed the door open and stepped into the badly lit corridor. The smell of alcohol seeped into his nostrils, the smell he had gotten used to long ago. The rug near the entrance was almost completely worn out of color; just the edges seemed to endure still.

The picture of his family wasn't there anymore—Sombra had hidden it so Amethyst would stop constantly bitching about it.

There were yellowish stains in the corners of the room, and a big pale-red stain just up the corridor on the floor. Sombra smirked at the sight of the stain—it had turned out Amethyst would need bleach to clean up blood. Rubbing it with a brush hadn’t helped.

He slowly trotted further down the hall, and had almost reached the door leading to his room, when he heard the noise of breaking glass from the kitchen. Then, the sound of irregular hoofsteps that seemed like the pony couldn’t walk three consecutive steps reached his ears. Sombra entered his room and shut the door behind him with a simple magical lock. It was nothing fancy, but Amethyst couldn't break in without sobering up enough to use the magical wand that grew out of his forehead. But who knows, Sombra thought, maybe it doesn't work anymore, just like his brain.

Sombra's room hadn't changed much; it had just become a bit messier. It had been ages since he had tidied it up last, dusted it off, or even made his bed. There were dark-yellow stains on the ceiling from his constant smoking, though, the air was free of the smell of tobacco—he had made sure that. If his father ever managed to enter his room, he would smell nothing.

Sombra yawned and fell onto the messy bed, wrapping himself in the blanket. He felt so warm and protected in it, as if he was being held by a dear friend, a close relative, even his lover, maybe.

For a second Sombra wondered what it would be like if this blanket was a real, living mare around his age. He heaved himself up to look at his bed and the image of a mare with sky blue mane and pristine, spotless white coat lying on his bed struck his head. She playfully rolled around, wrinkling the bedsheet as she did. She turned her head and stared at him with gorgeous, big, half-shut eyes.

"Hello..."

Sombra shook his head. He could have sworn that he had actually heard a sweet, honeyed voice that reminded him of Lucia. This was getting a bit weird.

After that, he definitely needed some relaxation. Again. He fell onto the bed and used magic to bring the book on dark magic and another cigarette out of the bag. With a simple flick of his head, the window was opened and he lit the cigarette.

Weird sensations, really. On one side, he felt incredible sore in throat and lungs. On the other, it was kind of relaxing. He finally stopped thinking about blanket-mares and opened the book.

"Well, well, where was I?" he drawled absentmindedly to himself with the cigarette betwixt his teeth, knowing that his father was far too drunk to hear him.

His horn flickered every time he turned a page, looking for the paragraph he had started reading yesterday.

The top of the page proudly showcased the name of the spell he was about to learn: Tellum Ex Odio. As the description described, it was an attack spell that required a small amount of energy, but could be very powerful if the caster hated the spell’s target hard enough. Sombra smirked at the very idea of that, however the book made sure to explain this phenomenon.

While it may seem illogical that the attack’s strength increases exponentially to the caster’s hate for the target, Sombra read, you, acolyte, have to understand that, while other spells would normally just drain the caster’s soul of negative feelings and transform them into energy, this spell, which normally takes on a spear-like form, does not just take energy from the caster. Instead, it taps the channels that energetically connect the caster and its target, and thus, the energy in those channels is used to empower the magic projectile, as opposed to the caster’s magical reservoir in other spells.

Sombra decided to test the new spell. It seemed easy, not too costy, and definitely didn’t seem to augur any repercussions. In addition to the teeth, he didn't want any spikes to grow out of his spine or something. He looked at a cup that stood upon the table.

"Well, you're dead porcelain now," Sombra spoke to the cup that stood upon the table—menacingly! He concentrated and his horn started emitting black tendrils of energy.

How long had it been since he had used Visio Aeternum? Ten years? Nine? He couldn't remember. But he felt the familiar pain in his throat and heart. The darkness lingered, drank from his heart to empower itself. It crawled to his invisible wounds and drank the leaking blood.

Sombra felt like he had just met an old friend whom he had had a really bad quarrel with, and now, they met on purpose to finally settle down their differences.

The air just nearby Sombra's horn started cracking and heated up. He sweated a little when the reality started to warp and twist, forming a small blob of dark energy. A few seconds later, the blob stretched out, forming an oblong figure, very reminiscent to a spear. It crackled and shivered as if it was about to fade. Without a second thought, Sombra directed all his energy to the cup, sending the spear flying.

When the dark energy collided with the cup, it compressed into one, dark-glowing point and exploded outward, releasing a shockwave. However, the only thing the shockwave was able to move was the tobacco smoke that filled the room. Not even a single crack had appeared on the cup itself, it had just moved slightly sideward.

Sombra hummed, wondering if this was how the spell was supposed to work before he slapped himself on the forehead. Of course—the spell needed a target that was being hated to function properly.

He looked around his room, looking for potential targets. But there was nothing here he disliked too much—all the pictures, bags, cups, and even books he kind of adored.

The only possible target sat in the kitchen and drank his life away.

Sombra drove away the thought and started looking for another solution. It seemed the spell should work on material objects as well if he had some connections to them. Like a picture he really hated or a table he despised. Sounded silly, but quite possible.

Noticing that the cigarette had almost burnt out, he wrapped it in his magical aura and threw it out of the window. He didn't care too much for the stuff that might have gathered below his window, which would be at least a dozen of fag-ends and some copybooks.

However, his mind wasn't set for rational thinking at all. Instead, it would rather show him flashes of 'Blanket Mare'. Sombra moved the pillow closer to him and rested his head on it. His thoughts were plagued by strange fantasies.

Blanket would have a long, flowing mane, which would cover her shoulders like a pretty azure dress. Her slender figure, with just a little bit of weight on her rear end and sides, would tremble a bit at the breath of the cold wind that came from outside. Her smile would shift to an expression of sadness as she shuddered with cold…

"Could you close the window, please?" a female voice sounded. "It's really cold."

Sombra obeyed the voice and approached the window to close it.

"Oh, that's much better. Thank you," she said in a quiet voice and nonchalantly fell into his bed. Her long mane spread all over the bed sheet and she seemed to bask in these sky-blue curls.

"I'm... I'm a... a...", Sombra uttered, trying to ask a question or say a sentence. Instead, all that came out were murmurs. He shook his head, but when he laid his eyes upon her again, he was speechless.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm no stranger to you..." she purred in the same calm, soft, even playful voice. Then, she turned to him and smiled lustfully.

"In fact, I'm your closest friend," the strange pony drawled. She extended her right forehoof towards him.

"What do you mean?" Sombra asked, making her giggle slyly.

"Oh, a typical stallion, you. You've been sleeping with me all your life and you don't even know who I am," after those words the room was silent for a minute.

"What?" Sombra deadpanned, unable to come up with a better question.

"Ha-ha-ha. You're funny. I like that," she replied. "But, if you want answers, I'll give you answers."

She rolled over, rubbing her belly against the surface of the bed. "I am your blanket."

"What?" another flat ‘what’ sent her into a laughing fit.

"I'm your blanket. The one you cover yourself with; the one you wrap around yourself; the one you sometimes build a tent in the morning with,” she winked at the last one. “The one you sometimes harshly jump upon," she said, pronouncing the last phrase with a bit of reproach. "I know all your dirty little secrets."

She playfully shook her hoof at Sombra as if scolding him.

"You naughty little boy."

"Alright, stop, please," Sombra interrupted, trying to keep his cool. "So, what you're saying is that... you're my blanket," she nodded quietly, "and you know all of my secrets?" She nodded again and moved a little bit closer to the pillow. "So... why are you here exactly?"

"To indulge your desires, of course. Why else should I be here?"

Sombra swallowed, just barely processing this. His entire attitude and wit was gone just because he couldn't understand what the hell was going on.

"Don't put too much thought into it, Sombra. It won't make any sense anyway," she dismissingly spoke while she turned over again and continued lolling around on his bed. Sombra glanced at her belly and he got the insatiable desire to kiss the girl's body.

"I think I know where this is going. And don't you think it's a bit weird? I mean... you're a blanket... an inanimate object," Sombra said. These words seemed to have struck her deeply and she looked at Sombra with saddened eyes. He regretted those words. "Don't get me wrong! It's perfectly fine. You just look so... so...."

"I look... how?"

"So hot!" Sombra blurted out before shoving a hoof into his mouth to shut himself up. What in the Empire was he saying? What was wrong with him?

She smiled lasciviously at him.

"I'm pleased to hear that. But, you see... I can't be any less 'hot' than you make me to be. I am just whatever you want me to be," she pronounced carefully as though she wanted Sombra to not misunderstand any of her words. Her words confused him still.

"So… you don't always look like this?"

"No. I look however you want me to look like. If you want..." she became silent for a moment wherein a cloud of mist suddenly formed over her head that dispersed as fast as it had appeared, revealing a horn. "I can be a unicorn if you want… How do you, unicorns, even handle these rods? I couldn’t bear walking around with something phallic sticking out of my skull… Let’s go on, shall we?”

The mist touched her sleek sides, and in a few seconds, she flapped a pair of cloud-white wings.

"I can be a pegasus. I'm whatever suits your fancy at the moment," she concluded after she had spread her wings to showcase their spotless plumage. She gently reached out for Sombra with a wing. He looked at it with a bit of fright, thoroughly looking at all the feathers, which looked quite soft. He allowed himself to gently tap the wing, making the mysterious blanket mare moan quietly. "But please, for the love of you, don't make me change my gender."

The point of that remark completely eluded Sombra.

"Well... if you're the product of my mind... what is the name my mind gave you, you..." he paused shortly as she playfully tickled his neck with her feathers, "incredibly attractive beauty?"

"My name? I'm just a blanket. Hmm... Blanket. I like that. You may call me Blanket," she cooed and tickled him a bit lower, making him shudder. "So, what should we do, sweet cheeks?"

Sombra looked at her again, exploring her body with his gaze, practically devouring her with his eyes. His cheeks filled with color in seconds and he felt very guilty. Blanket saw through his disguise.

"Oh, I see. I see," she gestured for Sombra to come closer and he barely managed to make a step before he was in reach and she wrapped her wing around him. "I'm not here just because of… that. We might discuss something, play a game of chess, I might give you a massage... not that kind of massage... but if you really want me to, I could..."

Sombra shook his head and carefully moved her wing away. He couldn't do this. This wasn't real. Besides, wouldn't that be cheating on Krystal?

"Blanket... I've got so many questions. Because right now, I'll be honest, I don’t understand shit here. Why are you here, why do you seem so real, and why do you even exist."

"It's… complicated. You might find out when you're older..." she spoke carefully, relaxing her wings and allowing them to lay on the bed. "But, let me ask you one question: are you ready to take the risk that... your marefriend might bust us just for a splendid night... with me?"

"I—I—" Sombra was torn apart by his undying loyalty to Krystal, and the desire to have Blanket. He knew that the right choice would probably be to refuse... But he couldn't control himself. He wanted her, and he didn't care why Blanket knew that he had a marefriend. She was an apparition created by his mind, after all.

"I'm... ready," he replied.

"Really?” her tone turned completely serious now. “You are ready to make a sacrifice for a moment of pleasure?" she whispered. Gone were her playful tone and her teasing behavior. These words seemed to be important.

"Yes. I am willing to take the risk," Sombra said, completely forgetting the vows he made to himself.

"Well then... you've made your choice, pretty boy."

She yawned, moved away from him a bit, stretching out her limbs, and Sombra couldn't help but stare at the curves of her slim body. He was literally hypnotized, and when she playfully beckoned him with her hoof, he just moved towards her.

"Come on... I don't bite... but for you, I'll make an exception," she looked at him, and Sombra couldn't resist the fire in those brown eyes which reminded him of Willemite's so much. She turned over again and looked into his eyes as he looked down upon her.

"I'll be honest—I liked you since the day your mother bought me for you. You were so cuddly and fluffy; it was a pleasant job to keep you safe, to cuddle you. Now, you'll cuddle me for a change," she purred lasciviously before their lips merged in a passionate kiss. Blanket slowly reached for his shoulders with her hooves and pulled Sombra closer without breaking the kiss.

After they both ran out of breath, Blanket gazed into Sombra’s eyes hungrily, starting a firestorm in his soul.

"I think... you know how the rest goes... Or do I have to teach you? ...I'm a very good teacher, you know."

Sombra opened his eyes, realizing that he was lying face down on his bed with his face buried in his pillow. First of all, he checked if he was doing—or had been doing—anything morally questionable to his blanket, then sighed with relief. A weird dream, it was but a very weird dream.

At least it wasn't a nightmare. Just for this one night he had felt something except disgust, fear, or hate. Though he wondered if what he felt right now was right.

Well, Sombra figured, there can be several explanations to the dream I just had. Maybe I'm going mad. Maybe the use of dark magic before sleeping has altered some flows in my brain, thus causing the weird hallucination. Or maybe I should just stop smoking. That’s also possible.

However, Sombra noted what had happened in the dream, namely, an incredibly attractive mare sharing a bed with him. He remembered the last biology lesson and connected that this might have to do with him being attracted to mares.

That being said, he had always been attracted to mares. The only thing was that it was actually entering an active phase. The first time was in a dream. What would happen next?

Sombra got up from his bed quite slowly and approached the window. When he opened it, he was engulfed in the early morning's cold wind. The sun was only peeking over the horizon while most of the ground still remained in a state of darkness. Even if it wasn't a nightmare, he had still woken up quite early.

Sombra didn't feel like going back to bed at all. Everything inside him was begging for action, especially 'that kind of action'. He needed to do something active, something that would relieve his tension.

He hummed for a moment, delving deep into his thoughts. Should he and Iron Wheel go cut some purses? No, that had become boring long ago. Even the chases had become boring—they were far too fast for anypony to catch. They could do something else. Maybe break something, or...

Sombra grinned viciously at his own idea, a perfect plan to relieve the tension, have some fun, and send a little message.

He was a genius. Simply a genius.

***

The sun was at its zenith, filling the streets with warmth, which was quickly dispersed by cold wind. Ponies walked quickly, afraid to catch a cold from the sudden temperature changes.

Most markets had already disappeared from sight, which signaled Crystal City’s inhabitants to prepare for the long winter without any kind of entertainment, and also warning those who lived in the slums to prepare for starvation.

However, Sombra wasn't worried about markets; Krystal fed him quite nicely, she held her promise. Also, he still had a lot of money from Sweet Tooth. He could keep spending without thinking too much about it if he so desired. Though, one would wonder why he and Iron Wheel would tread the streets now, when most ponies stayed inside their little houses in warmth and security, where their purses would be safe behind locked doors.

Simple: Sombra was out for some payback.

"Sombra, are you sure we're supposed to be here? Ponies like us aren't usually welcome here," Iron Wheel said, carefully looking around for guards. "What if we get busted?"

"Quit whining. Everything's under control. I know exactly where we’re going, so don't be noisy," Sombra replied through the cigarette between his teeth, which released small clouds of smoke as he spoke. The smelly trails of smoke dispersed with the wind.

"Ooh... Still, I have a bad feeling about this," Iron Wheel went on. He was afraid, as always—afraid to get in trouble. It was clear that Sombra planned something bigger than a simple mugging.

Iron Wheel carefully looked around and noticed a good place to sit. He was quite tired from all the walking, so he gathered all his courage and asked Sombra to take a break.

"We've been walking for just 30 minutes. Alright," Sombra said in an annoyed voice. "If you start smoking with your condition, you'll barely be able to move your damn hooves around."

Iron Wheel approached the bench and jumped onto it, finally giving his hooves a rest. He couldn't stand long walks. He would rather prefer being carried by something, though, the prototype of his self-moving machine was still in development. Sombra lazily approached him and sat down on the ground, rolling the cigarette with his teeth.

"Iron Wheel, let me ask you something... just a friendly question," Sombra suddenly said after a minute of silence. "Do you have a marefriend?"

"Who... A mare...friend? Umm..." Iron stammered. He wanted to say yes to impress his friend, but he couldn't just lie to him.

"No... No, I don't," he replied and Sombra turned his head heavenwards.

"And why is that?" came the question out of nowhere which made Iron Wheel arch an eyebrow in confusion.

"What do you mean by ‘why’?"

"Well, you can just go up to a mare and..." he made a pause to blow out a cloud of smoke, "... ask her out."

"What? No! I can't do that. That's... that's just rude."

"How's that rude? What's wrong with asking a girl out? Do you think I hooked up with Krys because fate told me to?" Sombra questioned rhetorically and put his hoof under his chin. Maybe he did meet Krystal because of fate. But he refused to let questions regarding semantics take over his mind.

"Umm... Well, I don't know... But it seems so hard. I just... can't bring myself to walk unto a girl and talk with her," Iron Wheel replied. "Lucky you! You have Krystal. She’s so.... so..." he closed his eyes as if dreaming. "Oh... so beautiful."

"Can't argue with that. So, what I wanted to ask..." Sombra slowly turned his head to look at Iron Wheel. "If you're so scared of asking a girl out... are you one of those ponies?"

Sombra tapped on the wooden bench and looked suggestively. "Well, you know? Those ponies?" Iron Wheel tilted his head, not quite following Sombra's flow of thoughts.

"Those ponies?"

"I mean those that are not into mares... Those stallions!" his friend replied, puffing out smoke, slowly getting annoyed.

"I don't get it."

"A Queer! Are you a queer?" Sombra asked bluntly, infuriated by Iron's unintentional attempt of pissing him off.

Queers were quite unusual in the Crystal Empire. However, in the Unicorn Kingdom, they were more than common. Eager to promote the freedom of speech and actions, King Palladium, the leader of said Kingdom, introduced the so called 'Freedom of Sexuality'. This law permitted homosexuals to openly declare themselves as such, while in other countries, they would be frowned upon, repressed, and even executed. In the Gryphon Dominion, homosexuality was punished by castration for males, and beheading for females. In the Crystal Empire, it was punished by exile into the mines.

"What? No! I'm not one of them!" Iron Wheel was startled and almost fell off the bench. "How could you even think of that?!"

"I noticed that you've been staring at me quite often," Sombra stated, grinning like wolf, while Iron Wheel quickly crawled back onto the bench.

"I swear, I swear upon my mother I'm not a queer," Iron Wheel babbled, but Sombra's loud guffaw quickly shut him up.

"Ha-ha, got you good, didn't I?" he managed to speak. "Don't be afraid. I was just kidding. You should have seen your face!" Iron Wheel sighed with relief. Sombra really had a specific sense of humor.

Sombra started walking and Iron Wheel was quick to follow him.

"So, will you tell me whither we are going exactly?" the maroon-colored pony asked and Sombra spat out the finished cigarette and lazily turned his head around.

"To pay a visit to an old friend. He doesn't live there anymore, but his house should be there".

"And why are we going there?"

"Simple. We're going to trash it."

The Wooden Pegasus

The huge mansion hadn't changed at all since Sombra had seen it last. However, judging by the dulled paint and the dirty windows, the building was abandoned. The thick layer of dust on the glass was visible even from the distance and the very walls looked old and even rotten in places. Nopony had taken care of this building for a long time.

Sombra wilted a bit, Misty Pearl's family must have left immediately after discovering what happened. What did they do to the body, though?

Sombra clenched his teeth as the old wounds reopened, filling his heart with grief and his mind with hatred. If only he could have saved her that time... he could have done at least something.

The house was like a putrescent wound on his body. A life had been ended there by those who didn't deserve to live.

On one hoof, Sombra was partly happy that there was nopony here; it meant much less trouble for him. On the other, he was disappointed to know that he couldn’t look Star Gem in the eyes… right before he would crush his thorax into bloody jelly.

Iron Wheel looked around carefully, gnawing on his left hoof nervously.

"Sombra, we should go. The guards might find us and then we'll get in trouble," his worried voice reached Sombra's ears but didn't seem to faze him.

"I'm not going away until I get what I want. Let's go. See if the door's open," Sombra growled darkly. Iron Wheel wondered what could anger him right now.

The unicorn quickly approached the door and tried to bash it open, but the rusty hinges were still quite sturdy. Sombra tried ramming it several more times, but to no avail. Frustrated, he turned around and bucked it as hard as he could. The door screeched painfully, but still didn't open.

"Old piece of shit!" Sombra hissed angrily. He bucked it several more times which caused the door to creak so loud, it felt like it was going to fall apart, but nothing happened. "Don't just stand there, moron, help me!"

Iron Wheel reluctantly approached the door and turned about-face, preparing to buck it.

"One, two, three... go!"

Their combined power was enough to break the door open. The hinges cracked as the door fell inward, sending clouds of dust flying into the air.

Sombra entered the house and wordlessly proceeded to the centre of the entrance hall. He breathed the stale, dust-filled air and started coughing. So many years had passed, but this place still smelled of roses and misery.

The hall looked quite intact albeit very dusty. The huge candelabra hanging under the ceiling was merrily rocking back and forth, disturbed by the sudden wind which originated from the forcefully opened door. Its creaks filled the air, scaring Iron Wheel. He quickly jumped over the doorstep and approached Sombra.

"Ugh... this place looks like a haunted house!" he whispered, nervously looking around. Sombra gritted his teeth.

"It is."

The quick reply scared the color out of Iron Wheel as he squeaked like a filly, trying to keep close to his friend. Sombra moved forward, looking around with interest. His memories slowly stirred as if awaking from a sleep and, when he reached the center of the rug, he felt something painful in his heart.

This was the very place where his mother had died. Here, in a pool of her own blood, she had drawn her last breath and left the world of the living. Sombra closed his eyes, suppressing the sudden tears.

"I hate this place," he spoke, his voice firm even though his tears. "You can go wherever you want. Trash everything. There is a particular room I want to visit."

"May I go home?" Iron Wheel asked whereupon Sombra cast an acrid gaze to him which made him nod reluctantly. "Okay... I shall go break some vases."

Sombra walked up the stairs, hearing the sound of shattering porcelain. Iron Wheel carefully pushed vases off the places they stood upon, one by one, looking around after each one fell down as if checking that nopony could see him.

There was no need to worry, this house was abandoned; not even guards came near it.

Sombra passed through the corridors, slowly making his way towards Star Gem's room. He wondered what he would see there, what kind of atrocities he would find under his pillow. Maybe there were some more secrets this wretched family was trying to hide.

Sombra checked if the door was locked — which it wasn’t — and tried pushing it ajar. The door creaked and gave way under the pressure; the old mechanism wasn't nearly as sturdy as the one on the entrance door, for it yielded after one swift buck.

The room wasn't too big. There was a quite nicely tidied, big bed with a cupboard right beside it. To the right, there was a big closet wherein Star Gem had presumably kept his clothes. Sombra approached the once proud wardrobe and opened it. Several fancy jackets and a collection of scarves were still hanging on the racks. It seemed he had left in a big hurry, if he had left so many of his belongings behind.

Sombra started looking through the piles, looking for a diary in the hope that the sentimental arsehole had left it behind. However, he found no such thing except an album.

Sombra remembered it. He used to draw so much in it — different shapes, figures, ponies. He had learned drawing in this album; his first, full picture was presumably still therein.

He stared at its dusty surface for about a minute. The colors had faded from the cover long ago and the small book which used to bring him so much joy brought only pain now. It struck like a needle, puncturing the skin and piercing the heart. Sombra started to regret coming here.

He looked at the shelf and noticed a small wooden figure covered in webs. He wrapped it in his magical aura, moving it on eyelevel. It was the wooden Pegasus toy, the toy that Star Gem used to show him from time to time. He had loved it so much.

The toy was bit rough around the edges, but still looked quite presentable and nice. Sombra couldn't stand looking at it; it filled him with such anger, such grief, such hatred for the one who took his mother’s life. He clenched his teeth, feeling a cold tear streaming down his cheek.

"I- I still remember... I remember... You bastard!" he whispered as the memories he had been suppressing for so long returned. Coming here had been a mistake.

"You bastard!" Sombra screamed and threw the toy against the nearest wall. Upon collision, the toy lost one of its wings and fell down into a corner with a loud crack. When he looked into the toy's motionless eyes, he felt sadness. The wooden pegasus stared at him with its featureless eyes, watching him as if asking, ‘why?'

"Shut up! Shut the hell up! Stop!" he screamed suddenly while his eyes filled with tears. He couldn't hold back any longer, the emotions were overwhelming him. He couldn't stand this house and yet everything reminded him of better times. Everything here, every single corner reminded him of Willemite, of innocent games in the garden and fun chess games — these wars on microscopic scale.

He shouted at this part of the cold, heartless past which lay before him. All his happiness, all his joy, it was all kept in these dusty, old toys.

He hated them. He hated them so much, because they had belonged to him. Yet... he still loved them. Their rough, dusty surface, their weird lines and motionless smiles, it was all so dear to him.

Tears sprinkled from Sombra's eyes as he fell down onto his haunches, the images of the better past swarming in his head. He had thought he had left it all behind, that he had forgotten everything about the past. He had been wrong, so terribly wrong.

Coming here had been a huge mistake, for this place, like a dirty knife, pierced the long healed wound, opening it once again, infecting it with horrible diseases. Sombra couldn't avert his eyes from the horrendous images of his past and the happy, yet hurting portrait of his mother. Her image was forever inside these toys.

"I hate you all!" he growled, rising from the ground, his heart pounding like a bird in the cage, his eyes turning red from popped capillaries, and his mind slowly losing itself in the ocean of hatred.

"Silence!" he finally shouted as the light in his eyes started to become dimmer. The darkness clouded everything. He only felt anger and hatred consuming him from inside.

His horn coruscated with dark energies, trembling and becoming thicker, as tears ran down his cheeks. The air was cracking and the powerful energy that radiated from his horn rapidly heated the room. Sombra raised his head and looked straight into the wall.

"You're all past! Begone!"

A powerful explosion of energy shook the ground, making the candelabra violently shake from side to side before, eventually, the weak chains connecting it to the ceiling snapped and it crushed into the floor, breaking through it and falling down into the basement. The walls of Star Gem's room were scorched and everything near them had been turned into ash. Sombra looked down upon the floor to see the smoldering remains of the pegasus toy.

The wardrobe behind him was set aflame and Sombra bust out of the room before he suffocated in the smoke.

"Iron Wheel! Let's get the hell out of here!" he shouted, noticing Iron crawl out from his cover, an old pillar, and look at Sombra.

"What the hell happened up there?" his apprehensive voice reached Sombra. "Did you detonate something up there?"

"Kind of!" Sombra replied, quickly swiping away a stray tear. "Whatever I did, it's causing the house to collapse!"

He was right, the house was slowly crumbling because of the shockwave; pieces of the ceiling were falling down onto the floor and dust filled the air, making it hard to breathe.

Iron Wheel quickly dashed towards the exit, but Sombra quickly jumped down and grabbed his tail with magic.

"Wait!" Sombra screamed as a giant piece of rubble slammed into the floor right before his eyes, blocking off the main exit. Iron Wheel pursed his lips and cast down his eyes in abashment as he realized that he’d almost been crushed.

"Well, shit!" Sombra growled, looking at Wheel's tearing eyes. It seemed that his little vendetta against his past had failed. The past was going to drag him into oblivion along with itself. He had to come up with something or else his little tantrum might cost him his life. "Step back, Iron Wheel!"

Iron Wheel looked at Sombra with fear, but, even though reluctantly, he took a step back from his friend who was staring at the rubble in front of him.

Sombra prayed that it would work this time, and that he wouldn't lose control. He closed his eyes and started gathering energy while the air around him became hotter and hotter. He accessed his hatred for this place, hoping that it wouldn't explode in another shockwave.

The streams yielded and broke, allowing Sombra to fuel the primary charge. He heard a crack and a bolt of dark energy flashed near his left ear, almost setting his mane on fire.

"So- Sombra... what are you doing?" Iron Wheel asked, pointing at the spear-shaped dark energy that slowly took shape near Sombra.

"Just stay still and hold onto something!" he screamed before he sent the spear flying into the rubble.

Another explosion made the ground tremble, this time a huge cloud of dust and smoke breaking through the main entrance, almost completely ruining the front wall of the house. From the dusty veil, the two friends escaped quickly.

Sombra didn't look behind. The sounds of cracking kept him going, kept him running away from his past.

It was done. His past was plentiful in that house, and now, it lay in ruins. Sombra had won. He had defeated his past for the time being.

Sombra and Iron Wheel stood upon the distant hill, watching the ruins of the house slowly burn down and turn into ash. The fire Sombra started in that wardrobe continued to rage even after the house had collapsed, and now, the fire had engulfed the once proud manor completely.

A long trail of black smoke ascended into the sky, rushing for the setting crimson sun. Sombra sighed heavily and checked his little bag; there were still a few cigarettes left. He emotionlessly lifted two into the air.

"Want one?" he asked Iron Wheel who shook his head in reply. "Well, I will."

This is the last one, I swear! Sombra thought to himself, talking to Krystal who, as he imagined, would look at him displeasingly now.

The bitter smoke filled his lungs, making him cough for a second after which he breathed a small cloud out. An unusual silence filled the air while he and Iron Wheel just stared down at the burning wreckage — such unusual silence.

Sombra tried to figure out why the explosion happened, but the answer was nearby. It was the spell. He had accidentally casted it when he had thrown the tantrum in Star Gem's room. Considering just how much he hated the place, the spell had likely overcharged and because Sombra had never actually released the energy, it had exploded in a shockwave. It was a miracle they had emerged again alive.

But maybe it had been predestined. Maybe he was supposed to conquer this last challenge to take full control of his life.

"You know... sometimes I wonder how it all came down to this," Iron Wheel suddenly spoke up. "It was so different in the first grades. We were different."

"Yes," Sombra replied to Iron's surprise. He would usually avoid a conversation about such topics or turn it into a joke. "We were different. I was weak, worthless, pathetic. Now..." he looked at himself: at his strong body, at his new habits — good and bad — and his new powers which were enough to bring down an old mansion and set it on fire. He looked at his life which used to be empty and filled with pain and suffering, but now was blooming with life and love which originated from Krystal’s pale blue eyes. She was the most important pony in his life, a haven to which he could always return. She had changed his life for better.

"Now I stand proud above the remains of my past. Do you remember how pathetically I used to sit at that table bending in pain by stomach aches I had because of hunger? It's all over, it’s all burning down in flames — just like this house," he said, pointing at the mansion.

He didn't regret anything. Every single choice he had made. He didn't regret stealing on the streets, robbing Sweet Tooth, his dance with Krystal, and his acceptance of her secret and confession. Smoking, rudeness, attitude, complete disregard for rules: he did all of it to feel freedom. Now, he had proven it to himself.

He was free of his past, finally — time to look into the future.

"Perfect. Just perfect," Sombra sighed wistfully. "This life is just beautiful. I love it." Sombra suddenly turned to Iron Wheel, giving him a bright and honest smile. "I'm done with my trashy past. Time to be free, friend! Come here, you little queer!" he exclaimed happily and gave Iron a friendly hug.

The maroon colored crystal pony smiled as his head rested on Sombra’s strong chest, coughing a bit from the cigarette smoke. He didn't feel offended by Sombra's remark; it was all in good fun. Why would he want to ruin his friend's perfect mood just because of an unfunny joke?

Sombra felt at peace, though he would certainly need some workout, too. He still had some leftover energy inside of him that he could waste.

"Hey, Iron... want us to grab some purses?"

Author's Note

A short one this time. Though, I still hope you'll enjoy it!

Nobles and Discourtesy

The stagecoach jerked once again and Krystal quietly moaned from pain as the tight dress she wore tightened for a second. She gritted her teeth, trying to suppress the pain and annoyance.

It was her most favorite dress: light blue corset with flowing, green skirt, and a light blue collar. She loved the composition of colors it created for her, but, just as usual, her mother had laced the corset too tight. The poor girl could barely breathe in this thing.

Mother and father were in the front cabin of the stagecoach, thankfully, so Krystal wrapped the highest lace with her magic and untied it. She felt heavenly pleasure when the air touched her fur, refreshing her and making her shudder a bit. She should tie it back up when they arrived; if anypony noticed her like that, they would think of her as a young harlot.

“Get ready, ma fille, we're almost there!” her mother, the beautiful mare with light green mane and grey coat, Celene, said, mixing Unicornian words weirdly between her speech as did many Imperial nobles. Unicornian was widely considered a noble language and was commonly used at galas, among nobles, and royalty. She looked serious for a moment, but then smiled warmly.

"How are you doing, Krystal? Is the dress not too tight?" Krystal nodded thereto, smiling.

"I'm fine, maman. It's a bit hot here, that's all," she replied and Celene returned to her place and resumed talking with Lazarus, Krystal's father. They were surely having a conversation about the upcoming event — whom they should meet, and whom to avoid. If it were Krystal's decision, they wouldn't have gone at all.

Krystal turned to the window and looked outside. It was already night, the sun was gone from the sky, and the streets were empty, lit by occasional lamps. Small drops of water formed on the window and Krystal used them as toys, magically forming figures.

The stagecoach stopped in front of a large manor. Noise and laughter could be heard whence they stood and Krystal sighed heavily; at last, they had arrived. She couldn't stand being in the stagecoach anymore, she felt like a fruit in the bag.

Two servants approached the stagecoach and opened the door first for Celene, second for Lazarus, then for Krystal. When the girl stepped outside, she felt such relief to finally breathe in the cold night air.

"I swear if I forgot my brooch, I'll eat my hat!" Lazarus grumbled as he inspected the deepest pocket of his black coat for his favorite golden brooch. After finally finding it, he smiled and levitated it onto the side of his front pocket. "Perfect!"

He fixed his fancy hat and swiped the little dust off his black moustache, then glanced at his family: his beautiful wife and blindingly beautiful daughter.

"Be very polite, we are guests in this house after all. That goes double for you, Krystal," he noted and looked at the girl with a little bit of scorn. "Please, this time, don't overdo."

"Sorry, father," Krystal replied, looking down. Her father was hinting at the last time they went to such a party and the incident that happened during the occasion…

Lazarus lead the charge with Celene walking right beside him, trying to stick as close as she could, and Krystal walking slowly behind them. She wasn't too eager to attend this party; she found the company of nobles a boring one, especially after hooking up with Sombra. With all his downsides and strange behavior, he was the only pony like this she ever had known, and she loved him therefore. Though, he certainly wouldn't enjoy these parties either and would probably flip some tables and shout obscenities after hearing how much rules he had to follow.

She looked at the exterior of the mansion; it looked far too expensive. If the owner spent even more money, you could just replace the walls with solid gold; this kind of rare wood you could only buy if you had somepony as a relative in the very palace. Lazarus was amazed at such a sight as was his wife. Krystal only sneered.

Hopefully, the food would be just as expensive and fancy as the house.

As the massive doors opened before them, Krystal was greeted by blinding light and warm, almost hot air. There were dozens of ponies at the party, all laughing, talking and drinking, some already having fondled the bottle a bit too much. Krystal's father looked around and breathed in.

"Here we are," he drawled, enjoying the smell of a perfect banquet. "Let's set our priorities first: we're here to enjoy the evening, and also find a few of our old friends — your relatives, by the way, Krystal."

Krystal sighed, clearly showing her displeasure. She hated meeting with her relatives — her uncles and aunts, mother's cousins and others. They all spoke too loud and always wanted to touch Krystal, pat her cheeks, or fondle her mane, which was infuriating. She was a grown up girl and they went around like she were a newborn filly!

"Lazarus? Lazarus, ye dirty ol' bastard!" a loud basso with eastern Crystallian accent pierced Krystal's eardrums when a huge pony, wearing a fancy coat and a monocle, sporting a sleek black mane and lovely green coat, hugged her father. Lazarus could barely hold his balance.

"Arkh... alright, Celiph, I'm glad to see you too, friend!" he uttered, patting his cousin on the back. "I see you are doing well?"

"More than that!" Celiph replied and pulled away from Lazarus. He wanted to say something else, but then he noticed Krystal.

"Oh my! ‘s that Krystal? That's really Krystal! Holy smokes, she's grown so much!" the big pony exclaimed, quickly approaching the girl and patting her cheeks the instant he was in reach. He was quite warm and smelled of alcohol.

"Y- yes... Bonsoir..." Krystal replied with a traditional noble greeting and moved a bit from him.

"Ye taught her well, Lazarus! And her clothes are just perfect! She'll be the shtar of this party, no doubt about that!" he spoke to Lazarus who nodded with polite smile.

"I am pleased to hear that."

"Hey Krystal, d’ye want to meet my son? I'm sure ye'll be great friends!" Celiph said, pointing towards one of the big tables where a sickly looking stallion with grey mane and coat was sitting and peacefully eating cupcakes.

"Excusez-moi, but I have some… other matters to attend to... Père, may I be excused for now?" Krystal asked whereto her father nodded. With grace, she left the increasing circle of ponies, which all wanted to speak to Lazarus, and went to the wine table.

Her father meant exactly that when he told her not to overdo it. Krystal had a little weakness: wine, especially western spiced one. Whenever she and her family visited a party, she would not miss a chance to take a sip of the delicious treat.

Last time, she took just a little too many sips and the whole next day she had to spend in bed with horrible headaches and nausea. Her mother had been too embarrassed to let Krystal be treated against the truly low-class condition called intoxication. Krystal would still blush when looking at her mother, for she could guess what she had had to endure.

"Just a few sips. Nothing more," she whispered to herself and approached the table whereupon dozens of bottles filled with delicious, red wine stood. The smell of rare and expensive spices hit her nostrils and she smiled, levitating a glass towards herself.

After grabbing a random bottle and filling her glass, she took a few small sips and sighed with pleasure. How long had it been since that dreadful incident — two weeks? She missed the wine more than any other drink in the world. As she drank, she felt renewed and refreshed, the stale air of this house feeling much lighter and easier to breathe now.

"I'm sorry, missus, do you mind if I stand here?" Krystal heard a high pitched voice and turned around. She was faced with a thin pony with a nice hat and necktie. He smiled, looking at her with his unsteady eyes, blushing.

"No, no, I don't mind. Go ahead," Krystal replied and resumed drinking. Suddenly, she was approached by another pony that was much older than the one who had approached her first.

"You are Lady Krystal, I presume?" he said. "I've heard a lot about you from your father and would like to introduce you to..."

Krystal didn't listen any further after that. She knew what was going on: courtiers, the bane of her existence.

Ever since she had turned fifteen, her father had been searching for a perfect groom for her. He spoke to his many friends, and now they, like conquerors attacking a castle, tried to woo her with their sons. But each time, these offsprings were either complete losers or worse.

Besides, why did she need any other colt in the world when she had Sombra? Krystal sighed dreamily and poured herself some more wine. At times, when the stallion of her dreams would visit her mind, he would never leave. Just like now, even after she had emptied the third glass, she could not stop thinking about him.

It was a cursed circle, really. As a lady, she wasn't supposed to actively love like this; that was how commoners loved. Instead, she was supposed to be unreachable, an unattainable prize, a collector of each stallions' hearts. But she couldn't stand trying any tricks on Sombra. He was like an open book, so trusting, so pure, so active. Even now, when he had this attitude of his, he was still the same Sombra she had met all these years ago.

She could see it clearly. When left alone with her, he would change completely, showing just how much he loved her. So young, so in love, how could she ever play any tricks on him?

Because of that, because she had tasted how sweet love should be, these courtiers started to annoy her greatly. Instead of inviting her to a fair or theater, they sent forth their moms and dads while they themselves were just pointing at her figure and whimpered, ‘me want that!’

It was strange how a commoner could be worthy of a greater love than a noble.

"No, I am sorry, I am not in the mood right now," Krystal interrupted the speaker, grabbed a bottle of wine with her magic and moved to another table. She just wanted to drink in peace.

"Krystal, wait!" she heard a voice and could barely hold back all the insults when she saw an elderly mare who was being accompanied by some colt her age.

She quickly dashed upstairs, wishing to lose her unwanted groom. She just hoped there wouldn't be any of these upstairs. Sometimes, she despised her father because of his eagerness to find her a stallion. Shouldn't she have some freedom of choice?

After a short walk, Krystal reached the balcony and closed the doors behind her. She was immediately wrapped in cold air, making her shudder. She quickly warmed herself with another sip of the delicious wine.

She looked at the sky and enjoyed the pleasant view of endless stars and clouds as well as a huge disk of moon. She was often baffled by the beauty of the night sky, taking long walks under the white cowl of the moon. At times, she dreamed of taking a night walk with Sombra so he could behold such beauty for himself.

They spent quite a lot of time together recently, though, Krystal was greatly worried about his way of life. He had become more aggressive lately, even dangerously so. Though around her, he was just as amiable as ever. Krystal enjoyed resting her head on his side, knowing that she had somepony who could protect her. She also just enjoyed being next to him as close as possible.

She took another small sip of wine and thought for a second. Mayhap they could get even closer. Maybe she should invite him over for a romantic dinner! Though, the difficult part was her parents; they would never approve of her relationship. They wouldn't even listen.

It was horrible to think that she and Sombra were forever stuck in this endless circle of dates. They were nice, of course, but Krystal wanted more.

She noticed that her glass was empty and wanted to pour herself some more wine, only to find out that the bottle was empty as well.

"Urgh, merde!" she cussed, realizing that she would have to go back to that hall filled with 'potential grooms'. Suddenly,a dark grey hoof, holding a bottle of wine, appeared from behind her, moved to her glass and filled it with the crimson drink.

"My, my, what an unpleasant sight a lady, all alone, and without a drink is," a soft, suave voice pronounced. Krystal turned around and saw a moderately aged pony, with very attractive face. His mane was dark grey and his coat was purple, enhanced by a nice coat he was wearing.

"Umm... thank you," Krystal said and the stranger bowed before her.

"It was not that difficult, my lady. I just poured you a drink," he said, approaching her. "Do you mind if I accompany you here? It's not a good sign — drinking alone. You have to have company therefor."

"Oh... alright... I suppose you may stay," Krystal replied whereupon the stranger quickly approached the fencing of the balcony and inhaled the cold night air.

"It's beautiful... simply gorgeous," he said. "Oh, forgive my rudeness. My name is Matvey," he bowed before Krystal once again, holding his hoof under his heart, a sign of respect towards a mare. "May I ask your name?"

"Krystal... It's Krystal," she replied, extending her hoof forwards, expecting him to kiss it. This was how their community worked; this was what she was supposed to do, and, just as she had expected, he gracefully kissed it.

"A beautiful name, indeed," he said and looked at her with a smile. "You may think of me as a rude pony, but please, answer me, why is such a beautiful mare drinking alone on the balcony, looking so sad and lonely?"

"Umm... It's nothing... I just... got tired of the stale air. Wanted to refresh myself," Krystal lied, a bit surprised by such interest from Matvey's side. It wasn't every day an adult stallion would approach her at such banquets. Though being in a company of such a grown up made her feel a little bit... uncomfortable.

"Oh, that's understandable. I can relate thereto," Matvey nodded. "Though the fact that you are alone... ‘tis a shame, really; was nopony bright enough to approach you yet? I won't be lying when I say that you look..." he suddenly touched Krystal's cheek with his hoof.

"Stunning!"

"Umm... this is getting a bit uncomfortable, actually," she replied. "I'm just not looking for company at the moment..."

"Yes, I would presume so, but excuse my ignorance; you fooled me with the way you dress. I thought you were definitely looking for company," he interrupted her and pointed at her chest.

Krystal just now noticed that she forgot to tie the lace on her dress. Her cheeks assumed a bright red shading.

“I’m… sorry,” she said, desperately trying to tie the lace with magic, but her worry and irritation prevent her from concentrating.

“Oh, please, let me help you,” Matvey spoke calmly. Krystal was surprised at first; he was no unicorn, how could he help? The answer should have been left unknown.

Matvey leaned towards Krystal and grabbed the lace with his teeth. His nose was buried in her soft fur, prompting a quiet squeak from Krystal. For her, that was too close for comfort, and for him, it was like he just buried his face in cotton candy.

“Jusht a little mowr,” he uttered, slowly moving his muzzle, this time rubbing his cheek against her chest. Krystal backed away, freeing her lace from his grasp.

"I think I need to go. Now!" Krystal hastily excused herself, thinking that this meeting just took a wrong turn. But before she could even move, Matvey grabbed her from behind and pressed her hard against his chest, sniffing her mane.

"Aaah....whaaa..." Krystal exclaimed in shock, her soul slowly filling with fear.

"I didn't want to mention it... but out of all your suitors... might you consider me as a possible groom?" he asked. "I just find your perfume just too addicting to let go."

Krystal screamed and he finally let her go. She quickly stormed out of the balcony and proceeded downstairs. Some ponies approached her, some mares, some stallions, but she ignored all of them, concerned only with running away, with getting out of here as fast as she could.

She had finally met face to face with one of the sickest traditions of Crystal Empire's nobility, which persisted since times long forgotten; taking a mare's virginity among male nobility was considered a great honor. That way, he could earn much respect, and to the parents', their child's innocence was the greatest of treasures. So giving it away for free would be a waste.

Krystal didn't want to think of the day when she might share a bed with a stallion, but she couldn't stomach an idea of doing it with a full adult whom she barely knew.

"I'll wait for you outside! I think I might be sick," she said to her parents and left the building, making her way to the stagecoaches. She didn't know how long she'd have to wait, nor did she care. She just wanted to be away from all of them.

Matvey approached Lazarus, almost completely unnoticed, startling the aging diplomat.

"Verily, yours is a strange girl," he stated and Lazarus turned to him in surprise.

"Oh, Lord Matvey! I- Sorry, I didn't notice you," he greeted Lord Matvey, the distant relative of the Emperor Lux, and thus, a high authority. "You meant... Krystal, right?"

"Oh, yes, her. I have to stay: you have a very beautiful daughter," he noted with a sly smile, fondling the thought of the young girl being in his possession.

"Thank you... though, for what reason you are telling me this?"

"I had a chance to talk with her and," he inhaled, hoping that the aroma of her mane still persisted. "I think I'm quite fond of her. You might expect to see some of my servants to your house, Lazarus. I would like to organize the Match Off".

"Oh-oh! Yes, yes, we are certainly ready," Lazarus replied, looking around. Celene hadn't heard him, thankfully. She would have bashed his brains out if she heard even a word.

"Very good. Keep the girl just as beautiful and clean and you might get a share of bread, Lazarus," Matvey half threatened, half promised and then proudly walked away. Lazarus almost jumped from joy — finally, a perfect suitor! Rich, attractive, but most importantly, with connections in high places!

Author's Note

Yes, yes, I know it's short. Be patient, my friends, big updates are on the way.

Enjoy the chapter!

Desire

Iron Wheel shivered, rubbing his hooves against each other and blowing at them, trying to warm up as much as he could. The winter had started unexpectedly—just a few weeks ago, there hadn’t been any signs of snow. Now, a thin layer of the white dust was covering the earth, turning his travel from his home to school into a real challenge. He wasn't too resistant against cold, and now Sombra was probably taking his sweet time, taking a sweet stroll through the park.

Iron Wheel quickly looked around and rubbed his hooves together again. His breath produced small clouds of vapor—from a distance, you would think he was smoking.

Would be very bad if his mom saw him right now: firstly, without a scarf, and secondly, she would think that he was smoking and he could therefore kiss freedom goodbye for another week of house arrest. At least that was what had happened last time when his father had perceived the weak odor of tobacco coming from him.

He hadn't felt that guilty ever since he broke mom's favorite cup.

He looked around, checking if Sombra was nearby or hiding behind the bush, and, after making sure that wasn't the case, he galloped towards the school's entrance. The snow he kicked while running flew up into the air, but he didn't notice anything—he just wanted to get to a warm place.

He ran past the ponies, who were hanging out in the yard— mostly kids, but there were teens—talked to each other or went behind the school: probably to take a smoke.

"Hey, Iron! Wait up just a minute," he suddenly heard a familiar voice. Iron Wheel stopped and turned around.

Three 11th graders approached him. The one leading them, with gray coat and blue mane, was a son of one of his father's friends—a nice colt, from what he heard. His name was Bright Wave if he remembered correctly.

"Oh, Bright Wave, haven't seen you in a while." Iron replied, looking at him.

"We don't really talk at all," Bright Wave noted, prompting an awkward chuckle from Iron.

"Yeah... we don't," he said, rubbing his forehead. "So... how's it going?"

"No offence, Bright, but this guy is dumb," one of Bright's companions said, a pony with short maroon mane.

"Anyway, Iron Wheel, what I wanted to talk about was that your father owns mine a sum of money, remember?" he said, ignoring his companion's rude remark. "My father goes away for a week, so he won't be able to come and collect the debt. Inform your dad that he should wait for a week or two, before my father returns, aye?"

"Oh, that's good to hear," Iron replied. He didn't have any idea about his family's economical state, so there wasn't any other reaction he could have had, though, he was relieved to hear that they just wanted to send a message—and a positive one at that, because sometimes, messengers would have come to beat up the one in debt instead.

These three really looked like they could pack a punch. Each of them was quite big, with Bright Wave completing the picture with a few small scars on his side. He would brag that he got them in a fight, though in reality, he just lubberly passed by a spiny bush.

"Don't take too long, or you know what's going to happen to you! It won't be fun," another one of Bright's friends said, grinning evilly. Wave quickly slapped him on the forehead.

"You're an idiot, aren't you?"

"Come on, Bright, it was a joke, okay!" his friend replied merrily. "All for good fun."

"This 'for good fun' will get you in big trouble. Don't flap your lips around for nothing!" Bright said angrily and his friend lowered his head, mockingly parodying an offended child.

"Anyway, Iron, we'll go. Not gonna bother you anymo—"

"Stay right where you are, pal!" a loud voice suddenly tore through the merrily falling snow.

"Sombra?" Iron Wheel asked nopony in particular, looking past the colts standing in front of him. He was right—Sombra was standing not far from them in a position like he was about to charge at them.

"So, what are you three dumb pimps doing there with my friend, eh?" he called them out, smiling. "Did he wrong you in any way?"

"Hey, look, we don't want any trouble—" Bright started to speak, but his companion interrupted.

"But you can find some if you are looking for it!"

"Trouble! Oh, fuck yeah; I'm all in for trouble!" Sombra growled, slowly walking to them. "What did they want, Iron Wheel?"

Iron Wheel was paralyzed, his face slowly turning pale. He didn't know what to do.

"M...money..." he replied while Sombra walked around the three, approaching his friend.

"Money, huh? And for what reason, may I ask?" he questioned, sitting down near Iron Wheel.

"Listen, friend, we didn't ask for money. You're exaggerating—" he wanted to say something else, when Sombra started slowly going towards him.

"'Friend'? You'll call me a friend when I bash your head in, you shithead," he growled with some excitement in his voice. "What? Too scared? Come on, chicken!"

He peeked at Iron.

"So, Wheel, do you want these morons gone? I'll be very glad if you say yes," Sombra said, grinning like a maniac. "These three look-alikes are such an eyesore".

"Iron..." Bright Wave said, looking strictly at Iron Wheel, who turned away, remembering seeing that kind of glance far too often. He suddenly remembered how his father always looked at him whenever he did something wrong. Or, to speak more appropriate, not like his parents wanted to. In reply, he just uttered some sounds. He didn't want to speak. He just wanted to be left alone for a moment.

"You heard him. Piss off!" Sombra said, looking at Bright Wave like a victor. "Why are you still standing, dumbass? Move!"

Bright's friends bared their teeth, showing their will to kick the ignorant pony's behind, but Wave just gestured them to go back.

"This attitude won't get you any friends," he said in a bitter voice, turning away.

"If I can't make friends, I'll make them my bitches instead!" Sombra shouted back. Oh, how bold, how arrogant he felt today. Though, it really sucked that they just walked away. He hoped to let out some steam.

"Alright, that's it!" one of Bright's companions suddenly shouted, turned around in a blink of an eye and punched Sombra right in the face. Being a bit taller and stronger than him—and having the element of surprise—the boy knocked the arrogant unicorn down.

"Aw, you..." Sombra barked, helping himself up, when suddenly he felt the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. The skin of his upper lip had been torn from the punch and blood was slowly dripping from the wound. It wasn't anything serious, but the smell and the taste of it threw Sombra into a fit of rage. He remembered the taste of his blood—he used to taste it so often when his father caught him outside of his room back in the day.

"Oh, so you want to play rough?" Sombra growled, slowly rising, looking at his enemy with fire dancing in his green eyes. "Good!"

One moment and the poor pony flew away with his nose broken. The poor stallion fell right beside Bright, who quickly turned from calm to enraged.

"Get him!" he commanded his leftover-friend and they both rushed at Sombra. He smiled; how easy it was to turn some quiet giant into a raging destroyer. Though, that was the most fun part. He finally got to let out some steam.

Sombra rushed forward, looking his opponent straight in the eyes. He saw anger, irritation, a desire to hurt. Sombra was basically looking into a mirror. Though, if he were to analyze his own feelings, he would add excitement to the list.

Bright Wave was about to ram his head into Sombra, but the dark unicorn quickly countered his charge by dropping himself to the ground, using himself as a rock to trip over. Bright burrowed his face deep in the snow. Sombra got up, preparing to face the last opponent. What he didn't expect was that his opponent didn't waste any time and, instead of watching his two downed friends in horror, he shortened the distance between him and Sombra just enough for him to punch the arrogant unicorn in the stomach.

He bent over and the snow cooled his head off while he tried to gather his thoughts and suppress the pain. The metallic taste of blood still lingered on his tongue, but it was more than enough to send Sombra into frenzy.

"Come on, Bright, get up," his friend's words helped Bright gather his thoughts and, using his shoulder as support, he got up, spitting out snow.

"Pff, what an idiot!" Bright blurted at Sombra while the young colt slowly got up, though reeling. A small line of blood could be seen dripping from the side of his mouth.

"You shouldn't be picking on those stronger than you!" Bright Wave angrily shouted. Sombra looked around. Ponies started to gather around them, interested in the fight that was going on. There were no teachers anywhere yet, thankfully.

"And you should have stayed down on the ground!" the unicorn growled as his horn lit up in grey energies. Before Bright's friend could say anything, a rock, formed from energy, hit him right in the face. Even though the rock wasn't real, it left a huge bruise under the boy's eye and a bleeding tear on his cheek. Sombra smiled, satisfied with his successful attack, and rushed at Bright Wave, concentrating even more energy in his horn.

He intended to form a battering ram in front of his head wherewith he’d crush Bright Wave, probably breaking a few bones. Though, it would be funny to see him be carried away to the hospital by these two grunts who went down with such pathetic resistance.

A sudden blow to the spine made Sombra lose his balance. His horn sparkled with energy, and when he felt the cold snow wrap around his muzzle, he was blinded by a bright flash of energy and a sudden headache. He quietly moaned of the sudden pain. The snow started to turn red from the blood that was slowly dripping from his nose.

The sudden energetic pressure was far too much for his capillaries to handle. When Sombra opened his eyes, Iron Wheel was horrified to see his friend's left eye turn completely crimson except the green pupil.

The pony who had hit Sombra from behind walked around him and approached Bright Wave with a smug smile on his face. A small line of blood was visible above his lips.

"Bright, let's get outa here. This guy's nuts," he said whereto Wave silently nodded. He looked back at Iron Wheel, piercing him with hateful glance. He could have prevented this fight and yet that pansy had done nothing!

"Br...Bright..." one of his companions whispered. Even though Brave still wanted to punish the coward a little more, his friend's worried tone made him turn around.

He froze in place with fear when he saw Sombra standing up tall, bruised and beaten, but still eager to fight. He bared his sharp teeth, his horn glowing menacingly.

"Sweet Emperor, what's this guy made of?!" Bright exclaimed, slowly backing away. This seemed almost suicidal: Sombra was badly beaten, bruised, and clearly no match for these three, and yet he was still looking for a fight? This was taking a turn for the worse, but there was no other way. Another fight was unavoidable.

The three took the small moment of relaxation and used it to full effect. They were ready and able, which couldn't be said about Sombra, who could barely stand. Only several steps were now separating the opponents, only several steps before the brutal school yard fight could turn into something worse.

"Stop! Now!" a loud female voice reached the ears of the fighting ponies, just before they were about to charge each other. Krystal dashed right in front of the three crystal ponies, shielding Sombra with her fragile body.

"Don't touch him!" she shouted once again, looking angrily at the three ponies. They stopped dead in their tracks.

"Oh, lookie here. You pose yourself as some kind of a badass and yet you hide behind a girl!" Bright Wave said, earning a hateful growl from Sombra.

"You shut your babbling hole this insta—"

"Stand! Down! All of you!" Krystal commanded strictly, looking at Sombra before turning to Bright Wave. "I suggest you keep your commentaries to yourself. Please, leave now."

Bright Wave sneered. "Of course, no problem, missus. Just keep a close eye on your friend here. He’s a bit unstable!" he remarked and proudly walked away along with his friends. They were limping a bit from the beatdown, but at least they left as victors.

"Krystal, what the... Ouch!" Sombra suddenly screamed as Krystal silently smacked him on the head.

"You're coming with me. We need to talk. Seriously!" she said strictly, cold anger dancing in her pretty eyes. The 'untamable' pony submissively lowered his head and followed his conqueror.

The crowd quickly dissolved, preferring to forget the brutal fight they had just seen. Iron Wheel was left to sit alone in the middle of the yard. He lowered his head and looked at the bright crimson stains on the snow. He sighed. Several moments later, he ran away unto the school's entrance, seeking protection from the eyes around him.

***

The small, in herbal extract soaked cloth wrapped itself around Sombra's hurt eye, tickling him behind the ear when the ends tied themselves. The cold liquid streamed down his face, a few drops seeping into his mouth. It tasted like tea, only with no sugar or any kind of flavor, there were just herbs.

"Oh... there you go," Krystal whispered as her horn dimmed, letting go of the cloth. "Keep it on for a while, it should help."

"Thanks, Krystal! I really appreciate that." Sombra replied, smiling.

The visible bruises on his face were covered with brilliant green ointment, which in the Crystal Empire was used as an antiseptic. A few bruises were hidden behind the soft surface of a plaster. It was a bit red, but the bleeding itself had stopped quite long ago.

"Now tell me, what were you thinking when you picked a fight with those ponies?" she asked, approaching the stallion. "Were you high? Or drunk?"

"What? Krystal, I don't drink, nor do I do drugs. I even smoke much less than usual!" he noted. It was true; he hadn't smoked in quite a while, though that was only worsening the situation. Without a peaceful way to calm himself, his overflowing energy could be used only by fighting.

"Or mayhap both," Krystal suggested and Sombra snorted loudly.

"Well, alright! I was drunk and high as heavens! So what?" he replied, his voice oozing sarcasm, but that didn't faze Krystal not one bit.

"Sombra, you’ve gotten seriously hurt. If I hadn't intervened, you would have lost your eye! You would have been half-blind! Do you understand that?" she said loudly, but Sombra only sneered.

"Bah, relax. Nothing would have happened!" he shrugged, jumping off the bed. He flexed his muscles a bit, and, so it seemed to Krystal, was showing them off to her.

"I would have picked those guys apart. And you know, you really didn't need to intervene," he said with some reproach in his voice. He seemed embarrassed by what had happened there, for he blushed when Krystal looked at him sideways.

"Sombra, be honest with me right now: why do you keep behaving like that?" she said, walking to the nurse's table and checking if she needed to apply anymore medicine.

The medical room in the school was supervised by an old nurse mare. Thankfully, she would oft leave the cabinet unlocked while she was away somewhere. It was the perfect opportunity for Sombra to get patched up, and for Krystal to have a serious talk with him.

"Like how? Protecting my friend, you mean?" he replied.

"No. I mean beating up ponies for no reason!" Krystal scolded him. Sombra glanced at his wounds.

"It seems this time it was the exact opposite," he joked, though his marefriend wasn't impressed.

"This may look like a joke to you, Sombra, but it isn't for me! I'm worried about you!" she cried, looking at him with scorn. "Do you know how scary it is for me to know that you constantly put yourself in danger?"

"Krystal, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm an all grown up foal, you know," he replied, smiling. He approached Krystal. "Deary, I like doing what I do. What's wrong with that? I don't protest when you drink tea just because you could get something nasty inside you."

"That's a very clever analogy!" Krystal cynically exclaimed. "You are not going to take anything seriously, am I right? The fact that I may die from worry doesn't even faze you?"

"Kryssie, relax! There's nothing to worry about. It's just a hobby of mine. I'm not hurting you in any way."

Krystal was at a loss. Sombra didn't want to hear anything. He was fully consumed by his own wishes and that only wish was to break. Perhaps he just condemned the world as a boring place and this was his way of bringing colors thereinto.

Suddenly, a bright yet bitter idea came to Krystal's head. It might be that his behavior was connected to his mother: Sombra was raised without a mother, thus he didn't know how mothers could guide their children. He didn't know the Heart's Song.

Krystal sighed heavily. Maybe, she could pull it off. Maybe she could give Sombra what he needed, what he was probably longing for right now: a gentle song.

She wearily wrapped her forelegs around Sombra's neck and pressed his muzzle right to her chest. She felt his warm breath touching her skin as it rapidly sped up. He wanted to say something, but she shooed him, slowly caressing his mane.

"Sombra... what do you hear right now?" she cooed quietly. "Listen carefully... and tell me."

Sombra had thousand questions and warnings swirling in his head right now. Why was she doing that? What would happen if the nurse came in? Should he stop her? Instead of answering those questions, he closed his eyes and listened.

Her chest went up and down as she breathed in and out. When it went up, the short, soft fur tickled Sombra's ear a little. He felt the breath flowing, slowly coming and going. He heard the merry heartbeat thump after thump.

"I hear... breath... and heartbeat," he spoke, hypnotized by Krystal's calm voice. It was nigh unto perfect... perhaps even more dulcet than Lucia's.

"Yes, it's a heart you hear—my heart," she whispered softly. "And you have to know, you have to understand—it's very easy to shatter."

She closed her eyes and remembered an old legend that her mother told her in the same way when she started to misbehave.

***

Thousands of years ago, when the Empire had just been born, the noble family of Lighthearts assumed the throne. They ruled fairly and justly, bringing prosperity and order to the Crystal Empire. But the Golden Age was over when the wife of the current Emperor, the beautiful Cassandra, died due to a terrible disease.

The great Emperor Lignum wept for her, grieved for his loss, and thus, he turned grim and bitter. His heart, once a place of kindness and benevolence, was soon consumed by hatred and anger. He decreed brutal laws, assumed complete control, turned the whole Empire into his slave, his tool.

He used to proudly wear the white colors—now, he turned dark, darker than the very night. He would never smile again, only flash his teeth when ordering another execution.

In his bitter anger, he forgot the most precious thing a stallion could have: a son. The young pony would weep every time he saw his father condemn another pony to horrible tortures and execution. In despair, he ran away, not being able to bear the sight of his father becoming a monster.

In distant lands, when sleeping, he was visited by the spirit of his mother. She begged him to return to the Empire and put an end to her husband's tyranny, to reunite him with her once again.

The young prince was confused at first; he was no match for his father's dark sorcery. But his mother commanded him to find her grave and bring her mortal remains to the biggest crystal cave in the whole Empire.

He obeyed her. The instance he put her lifeless body in the center of a giant cave, the crystals glowed in unison, creating myriads of colors. They all shone upon the mother's body, right where her heart was.

A bright flash blinded the prince. After a few minutes, he beheld a miracle: his mother's body had disappeared, and a humongous crystal in the shape of the heart was floating in the middle of the room.

The spirit of mother talked to the prince once again. It taught him to bring this crystal to the insane father, and use its power to defeat the tyrant.

The heart possessed incredible power. When the young prince carried it near ponies, their coats would turn bright and would shimmer like a million stars. It inspired hope and courage in their hearts, and they joined the young prince in his revolution. Not only that, but it was completely indestructible—powerful magic preserved it from any damage.

At last, father and son met each other in the battlefield. They came out to each other, prepared for everything.

The young prince wanted to save his father, and thus, tried to show him the power of the mysterious crystal. He said it was a blessing, a gift from his wife. However, the cruel Emperor didn't believe his son and malicious words seeped from his mouth. He blamed his son in all the troubles, calling him a bastard, a pathetic creature, worthless garbage.

The battle begun. The prince was winning, but suddenly, his father gathered a spear of dark energy and hurled it into the heart. The crystal, which was presumed to be indestructible, was shattered into tiny pieces.

All hope seemed lost, but the prince revealed the mystery behind the crystal heart: that it had been created by the sacrifice of one brave soul: his mother.

When the Emperor heard his wife's name, he realized what he had done. He had destroyed the last remains of his wife: her immortal soul. With that realization, he collapsed on the ground and the dark energies disappeared.

The Emperor was defeated, but the evil energy was still persistent, infecting the very ground. Without the crystal heart, they were doomed.

Emperor Lignum arose from the ground. He felt guilty for all the pain he had caused and offered his own soul to restore the crystal heart. With reluctance, bitter about losing his father once again, the prince commenced the ritual.

The Crystal Heart shone once again, destroying the darkness and giving the crystal ponies their name, turning them into shimmering creatures of pure light. The prince assumed the throne shortly after, and became the Emperor Sol, the future father of Lux.

***

"Sombra... do you know this legend?" Krystal asked when she was done talking. Sombra silently nodded, which Krystal noticed by the way his cheek rubbed against her chest.

"Yes... my mother told it to me when I was little, around five years old," Sombra replied. "What an old tale... an old fairytale, used to show the toddlers the importance of keeping the heart of those you love safe, for it can be shattered because of words, even..."

"Oh... I'm sorry. I probably stirred so many bad memories," Krystal gasped, starting to apologize, but Sombra calmed her down with a swift kiss on her chest. She blushed slightly since that kind of kiss was a bit too intimate, but she still allowed it. She actually kind of liked it, though she wouldn’t admit it.

"No, no you didn't. You only woke up good memories," Sombra whispered and gently kissed her on the neck. "I love you so damn much, Krystal. Sorry if sometimes it doesn't look like it, but it's the truth. I love you."

"Oh, Sombra, I know! I love you too, but I beg of you to be more collected. I'm very, very worried about your well-being," she whispered, tickling Sombra behind the ear. "You got yourself hurt today... what if something worse happens?"

"Dear, I'll behave however you want me to behave if you find me an alternative," he replied. "I'm just so bored! Can you imagine coming home and realizing that you have absolutely nothing to do?"

Krystal hummed for a second. She had lots of activities in her big house unlike Sombra, for whom all these shenanigans were probably a way of relaxation. What other activities had he been doing? What if some of them were illegal?

"We can hang out together. Starting tomorrow, we'll walk around the Crystal City. Adding some jogging," she smiled, suppressing the suspensions, hoping that if this idea would work, Sombra would abandon his activities and dedicate himself to something less dangerous.

"I kind of like that idea. Come to think of it, I didn't walk around the Crystal City in a while", he replied, moving away from Krystal, finally freeing her from his embrace. "I guess it would be fun."

"You can invite that friend of yours, Iron Wheel, if you want," Krystal noted.

"Oh, he's going to love this, I bet," Sombra replied, looking away at the same time. He would need to ensure Iron Wheel kept completely silent about their business in the streets.

If Krystal was so worried about a simple misjudged fight, he was afraid to imagine what would happen to her if she’d find out how he earned his living.

***

"A perfect day for a good jog, isn't it, Iron?" Sombra asked nonchalantly while stretching his hindlegs out, breathing deeply and squinting from the sun.

Though the winter had established its reign over the Empire, the snow banks were still quite shallow; it seemed this winter would be less cold than the last one.

"Yes it is. Though, I think it's a bit cold for a jog," Iron Wheel replied, fondling the red scarf he was wearing.

"Ah, don't be a pansy. It's not cold at all. Just a few kilometers and you'll be warmed up!" Sombra replied, bending his back until he heard a crunchy sound. "Ah, that felt good."

"Do you think Krystal will come soon?" Iron said, jumping in place, trying to preserve heat.

"Oh, sweet skies! You whine like a girl, Iron Wheel! Stop it already, you're annoying me!" Sombra groused, his patience worn thin with the freezing pony beside him. "She'll come when she comes. She's a lady, and ladies are allowed to come late."

Iron Wheel wanted to inform Sombra that this rule only applied to dates, but preferred to keep silent. He was still quite intimidated by Sombra's 'plea' to keep quiet about their stealing business.

"If I even hear a word about our fishy business slip from your tongue, if she finds out what we have been doing, I might reconsider my opinion on murder," these words still echoed in his ears. Iron knew Sombra was kidding... he was kidding...

Was he kidding?

"Oh, boys! I didn't expect you to come so early!" a happy voice reached them. Iron Wheel waved to Krystal, prompting her to reciprocate the salutation.

"Well, just about ti- Whoa-whoa-whoa!" Sombra turned around and his jaw almost dropped when he looked at Krystal.

She was wearing a puffy scarf carefully tied around her neck, which fluttered in the wind. On her legs, she was wearing warm furry shoes which covered the ankles, leaving the hooves untouched. Her coat shimmered in the sun as she smiled warmly at Sombra.

The most shocking thing was that Krystal wasn't wearing anything warm; it was winter and yet there were no signs of her fur-coat. With an immune system like hers, with even weak chilly wind being able to give her a terrible cold, this was a big don’t. However, this wasn't what amazed Sombra so much.

He always considered Krystal a beautiful girl, but right now, she looked beyond godlike. Maybe it was because ponies wouldn't normally wear clothes at all and official events required full dresses, so wearing an outfit like this was more of an attention-drawer than warm. However, Iron Wheel didn't seem fazed at all by her outfit.

It seemed that Krystal wanted to attract some attention. For now, all she got was Sombra's face on fire.

"Let's not waste any more time — less talkie, more walkie!" Krystal playfully sung and trotted forwards, following the stone road covered with a thin layer snow. Iron Wheel followed her, happy to get some warm up. Sombra follower suit, looking around Iron at Krystal, squinting his eyes in suspicion.

"Don't fall behind, my little smokers! We have a lot of ground to cover for today. First destination: the market!" she shouted over back to them before switching to a light gallop.

They ran through the park, sometimes looking around at the beauty of nature that lay outspread before them; the snow banks were thin and shallow, but quite colorful when light fell upon them and yet intact, unlike they would be later when it all started to melt. The sun made the snow look a bit golden as its rays were reflected from the surface, sometimes biting ponies in the eyes.

The snowfall was sparse and weak, the snowflakes drifted in the air, trying to land in Sombra's eyes from time to time, distracting him from his only goal: checking if anypony was staring at Krystal. He just couldn't get over it, how could she dress up so... so... slutty and not even consult him about it? What if there were some creeps out here? What if Iron wasn’t right in the head?

He was going to have to talk about it with her whenever he’d get a chance.

After half an hour of running through the snowy park, Krystal, Iron Wheel and Sombra approached the entrance of the market. Sombra gave Iron a meaningful look, reminding him to stay quiet. Wheel nodded to him and kept on going.

Sombra didn't exactly know whither Krystal was leading them, but none of them seemed to have any money on them, so they obviously weren't going to buy anything.

As Krystal switched to a careful trot, Sombra noticed that absolutely nopony was paying attention to her outfit. This was unthinkable. Usually, at least some ponies would comment on where such a girl belonged, but no! It seemed that Sombra was the only one who saw immodesty in these so-called 'morning jog' boots.

He pierced every stallion he noticed with a fiery glance, watching their eyes carefully, and if they’d even turn to stare at Krystal, he would rip them apart right there, no matter what promises he’d given. He bared his teeth slightly for better effect, though it was all unnecessary. Not a single stallion even glanced at Krystal; they were far too busy with their daily routine to stare at the young mare.

"Whew, that was nice," Krystal said when she suddenly stopped and swiped the sweat from her forehead. "I declare that a waterbreak is in order! Anypony got money on him?" she asked, turning to the two colts. Sombra shrugged in denial and Iron Wheel shook his head. Krystal smiled in reply.

"No worries, I'll buy you some, then. Stay here!" she sung, levitating a few coins from a secret pocket on her left boot and swiftly ran to the nearest stand, which was selling mead, ale and also water in special crystal bottles; these preserved the liquid’s temperature even in the hottest weather.

"There you go!" She hoofed both of them a bottle. Iron Wheel pressed his lips to the bottle in a second, while Sombra took a second to look at the bottle: the sparkly outside with pointy ends that could scratch you quite badly if swung hard enough. He had heard some rumors of ponies beating each other to death with these things. The inside of the bottle was covered in special glass imported from Conglomerate of Mountains since quality glass was aplenty there. Every glass, bottle or window was probably made from their materials.

Sombra's horn coruscated with energy and he removed the bung in an instance. The water was quite refreshing and cool; despite that it was winter, they had all gotten warmed up from running.

"Ah, this is bliss!" Iron Wheel exclaimed. "Thank you, Krystal! I owe you!"

"No problems. Since it's your first time jogging, it would be sensible of you to be prepared. Next time, always grab a purse. You’ll need some water on the way," Krystal advised, closing her bottle.

Sombra finished his drink and looked at Iron Wheel. "Could you give us a moment alone, Iron?" Iron Wheel nodded quickly and proceeded to leave the scene.

"Alright, Kryss, what the actual Abyss," Sombra heatedly began, "are you wearing?"

"Umm.... what's wrong with my outfit?" Krystal asked, looking quite surprised.

"No offence, dear, but you look like... like a..." Sombra considered saying 'slut', but that would be far too harsh, "a mare with questionable ethics!"

"What? A mare with questionable ethics?" Krystal said, chuckling a bit from surprise. "You really think I look like a whore?"

"No, no, no, no, I didn't mean to say that!" Sombra turned red as a tomato. "What I meant is that... it looks really suggestive."

He had no problem with Krystal looking that way when they were alone together, but they were in the middle of the market, and they had Iron Wheel accompanying them. Sombra suspected that he had a crush on his Krystal, and this didn’t help him get rid of this suspicion.

"If I wore something suggestive, everypony around us would be saying that out loud," Krystal replied with annoyance. "Besides, wearing revealing outfits isn't for my figure, and you know that! Are you mocking me, Sombra?"

"Wha— No, I'm not. I'm not."

Krystal looked at him with anger, then suddenly, her expression changed to laughter.

"Wait... Sombra... are you jealous?" She asked out of nowhere, completely freezing Sombra in place more effective than frost would. "Oh, I see that blush. You're definitely jealous."

"I... I am," Sombra replied, looking away. Of course he was jealous; he couldn't allow other stallions to even look upon his beloved. She was his and his alone, only his.

"Hey-o! Sombraaa! You're sleeping on me again," Krystal snapped Sombra from his descent into thoughts.

"Yes... Krystal. I am jealous. I'm sorry," Sombra apologized, but she only chuckled.

"That's actually alright... I never thought you would be jealous. That means you care about me."

She slowly caressed his cheek, the fur of the boots tickling him a little bit. Sombra smiled gently and moved forward, aiming to kiss her, but their little moment was interrupted by Iron Wheel.

"Guys, guys! You need to see this!" he shouted at them.

"What the Abyss? What happened?" Sombra replied angrily, berating Iron in his mind for screwing up the moment.

"You have to see this! Inquisition is here!" Iron Wheel replied.

Sombra and Krystal stood still, barely even flinching.

Inquisitors were the last remainder of the Ancient Crystal Empire, when it actually had a real religion; these ponies had the rights to arrest, judge and execute ponies all on their own accord. Lux wanted to get rid of them, but by some reason, they still existed to this day, now mostly solving crimes and helping crime-fighters. Quite gruesome stories and rumors existed about them: how a single Inquisitor once burnt down an entire village to demonstrate the Empire’s might; some said that it had even been an Imperial village. Even though that rumor had never been confirmed, they were still renowned for being ruthless, cruel and soulless ponies, which often utilized violence as a method of solving problems.

Krystal and Sombra followed Iron Wheel who was walking unto a stand selling meat, behind which a sickly looking purple-coated pony stood surrounded by menacingly looking guards dressed in bright red, which looked quite light.

"P-please... It's not mine, I swear!" the stallion uttered, and one of the guards violently punched him in the stomach.

"Shut your hole. We'll wait till the Inquisitor arrives, then we'll figure it all out," the armored guard replied. Iron Wheel stopped on the roadside, staring at whole scene. Krystal and Iron Wheel joined him in observation.

A murmur resounded through the crowd of ponies as said Inquisitor emerged from their midst, or to be correct, the Inquisitor-ess.

The crystal unicorn looked over twenty years old, had a flowing sapphire blue mane that fluttered in the wind, and showcased a sly smile on her pretty, young, and bright face. Her coat was dark violet, though, most of her body was hidden under warm, dark scarlet mantle, whereover a big, golden medal with the insignia of the Inquisitors rested upon her chest — a sun with its rays depicted as spears that sparkled in the sunlight. She walked slowly, enjoying every second that the guards bowed afore her.

She approached the suspect, smiling all throughout the way.

"So, this is the suspect, right?" she drawled. Her voice sounded incredibly charming and Sombra found himself thinking that he’d tell her everything she wanted to know if she’d ask him with that voice. She pronounced the alveolar trills, the rolled R, of the Crystallian language quite carefully, as though she wanted to make sure they’d be heard. It felt so... seductive, for some reason.

"Y-yes, Lord Inquisitor," the nearby guard replied and the mare chuckled.

"You know, girls can torture, torment and burn heretics even better than boys can," the Inquisitor cooed. "Or do you doubt my words, Commander?" She stretched her rolled R at the end of the last word.

"N-no... Not at all."

"Good. Now, what do we have here? A dust smuggler?" she went on quickly, looking at the suspect with contempt.

"Yes. We found at least three packs of dust with him," the same guard said. "He keeps telling that this is a mistake, though."

"Ooh, dust. What a stupid invention, made by impotents for impotents", the Inquisitor exclaimed with closed eyes. Some guards stared at her as she bent a little.

"Don't you agree, little pony?" she cooed, slowly and playfully scratching the sickly suspect's neck.

"It's not even mine! Somepony gave this package to me! I swear upon the Emperor!" he uttered, more scared by her teasing than enthralled.

"Lies, lies and even more lies. I don't like you," she replied disappointedly. "Take this pony away, and if he tries to break free, you have my permission to beat the crap out of him," she ordered and the guards, which led the suspect away after she finished speaking.

"Thank you, Ms..." the commander of the unit bowed to her, extending his hoof to her, expecting her to allow him to kiss her hoof, which was dressed in metal armor.

The young Inquisitress carelessly pushed his hoof away, belooking him with even more contempt than the suspect. "Lord Inquisitor Larissa," she replied.

"Is she an Inquisitor or a model?" Krystal wondered, looking at Larissa. "Her figure looks perfect! No, scratch that, she looks perfect!"

Krystal was right. Larissa was incredibly fit and even the mantle couldn't hide her alluring body.

"Krystal, is that all you think about?" Sombra noted. "You have to stop worrying about your figure, dear, and notice that she's an Inquisitor."

He had never seen an Inquisitor before; they were quite rare to see when one was just innocently walking the streets, and the first Inquisitor he had ever seen turned out to be a girl.

"Sombra, I can clearly see who she is. It’s you who is unable to notice that she's much more fit than me. Unless you ogled her from the snout to the tip of the tail," Krystal noted. Sombra laughed out loud.

"Oh yeah, because I would certainly ogle a mare while standing right next to you. Come on, Kryssie, I'm as loyal to you as I possibly can be," he replied with a wide, toothy grin. Blanket didn't count. That was only a dream.

"Yeah, I'm sure. But that's why I jog in the morning: to be fit, to be perfect! Like her," Krystal said, raising her hoof to point at the Inquisitor, only for it to cease moving when it bumped against something quite solid that was behind her.

Iron Wheel turned pale like snow, Krystal immediately went silent, and Sombra just stared at the mare Krystal had just inadvertently poked with her hoof.

"Thank you, darling. It takes me a lot to keep this figure. If you eat your vegetables, jog in the morning and listen to your mommy, you will have just the same complexity as I do," Larissa sung softly and then turned her eyes to the boys. "Though, if you don't mind, I shall steal your friend for a moment."

"You mean... Iron Wheel?" Sombra asked, pointing at his friend. Iron Wheel started what looked like a good imitation of a corpse: his cheeks turned white as chalk, and he shrunk, it almost seemed he would disappear. Quiet whimpers could be heard coming from him.

Sombra didn't look any better either. He wasn't breathing, he was gasping. His heartbeat had increased, blood pumped in his ears. He was ready to run if need be.

"No, honey, I meant you," the Inquisitor stated, casting a sly look at Sombra.

"Nothing serious. I just noticed one tiny detail, and I want to ask him about it," she assured Krystal. "Do not worry; I'll keep your coltfriend pretty much alive. All the required parts will remain intact."

She chuckled at her own joke, but nopony else could even smirk at that. Krystal swallowed nervously.

"Alright, Lord Inquisitor, we are glad to assist you," she nodded to Sombra and he quietly followed the mare. The color returned to Iron's face when he noticed her going away.

"Will he be okay?" he uttered to Krystal.

"Yes, he will."

If anything went wrong, she would utilize all the power her father had to save Sombra.

Larissa led Sombra unto a lonely alleyway not far from the marketplace. His heart pounded like a wardrum, and he couldn't stop thinking about running away. Did she somehow know that he’d stolen from ponies? Was it something else? Would she incarcerate him now? Would she kill him?

Larissa carefully looked around to make sure nopony was near before she stopped walking and turned to Sombra with an ever so playful smile that didn’t reveal her teeth.

"Tell me: what is your name, pretty?" she asked and Sombra slowed down as well.

"I'm... Sombra. My name is Sombra," he replied. His voice started to tremble. Larissa came a little nearer.

"Don't be scared. I'm an Inquisitor. You should always feel safe around me. It is my duty to protect you," she said. "My name is Larissa. You may hiss the S if you so desire. I like it when my name is pronounced this way."

She playfully touched Sombra's shoulder with her armored hoof. Her touch was soft, but at the same time unnerving. Sombra felt uncomfortable with how the stranger, who seemed to think she could touch him just like that, behaved.

Her behavior, her manners, even her dress and smell — this light arousing odor — it all seemed so familiar.

"So, cutiepie, when was the last time you used dark magic?" she cooed.

Sombra felt his heart stop. How could she know?

"Ah... I didn't use that. I never used that," Sombra uttered, but she only smiled slyly. How did she know? How? How?!

"Don't lie to me. The shark smile that you displayed… I saw everything. No need to beat around the bush," Larissa said, coming even closer to him. "Be honest, and I won't hurt you, sugar."

"Could we keep it official... please..." Sombra mumbled, not understanding why she was flirting with him. She was at least eight years older than him. "I never used dark magic. And, if you are talking about my teeth, that's just how I was born — nothing more."

He looked around, looking for possible escape routes. However, his head emptied in seconds when he felt his body go numb.

"I hate beating around the bush. Teasing is good, but I’m far better in that than you," Larissa said. Her horn coruscated in dark energies as small tongues of black flame slipped out of the nooks and crannies on the wall behind the dark colt and tied around him. With a flinch of her head, she slammed Sombra right into the wall, keeping him afloat in a hanging position like some kind of a doll.

"What the actual Abyss!" Sombra shouted in confusion. Larissa slowly walked to him, never ceasing to smile her small smile.

"You can't fool me," she whispered before she pressed her lips against Sombra's in a lusty kiss.

Sombra's heart stopped beating and his ears were set on fire. He couldn't move, couldn't push her away, and he was far too scared and confused to use spells.

This wasn't just a simple kiss like his and Krystal’s. This was a real, legitimate make out season as Larissa's tongue explored Sombra's mouth with no resistance whatsoever. She moaned passionately the longer she kept kissing him.

She slid her tongue over his sharp teeth, and Sombra felt how the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Larissa started moaning even louder when she tasted blood.

Suddenly, she broke the kiss and pulled away from Sombra, still keeping him bound.

"Krgh... What are you doing?! This is sexual harassme—" he was unable to finish as his lips were sealed shut by a magical aura.

"This isn't sexual harassment," Larissa drawled sultrily, "this is full-on rape."

She stuck out her tongue in a seductive fashion and swiped it across her lips, leaving a trail of bloody saliva.

"Ooh... No teeth could be sharp enough to cut a tongue. You definitely used dark magic, and it left its mark upon you," Larissa stated. "I must know, for I need it for my job."

Her smile widened, and, for the first time, Sombra was able to see her teeth; they were fang like, as were his. They seemed sharper than Sombra's, but maybe that was because she was older.

Sombra's blood felt frozen from fear; not only was this mare crazy, she was also versed in dark magic, and the odds were high that she was far stronger than Sombra.

Her manner of speech, her constant flirting, and the outright statement of the intention to rape him for some reason made him think about Blanket, but there were more important things to worry about than dreams, for Larissa was pretty much real.

"Do you know when I got these fangs? Two years ago, when I was twenty. And you look like a sixteen year old boy," she tsk’d. "The question: how did you get the proof of your first successful use of dark magic earlier than I did?"

She slowly walked unto Sombra. "Let me put it like this: I'll let you speak now, you don't scream, and you will answer my questions. If you do that, I'll let you go."

Sombra nodded to her and felt relief as the energy dissipated, letting him talk again. He wanted to scream, but the situation was dire; he had to obey the Inquisitress’ commands. He gulped loudly and prepared to be interrogated.

"Tell me how old you were when you got these fair fangs?" Larissa asked.

"Six.”

"Six? Six years old?" she balked. "So young…” she mumbled to herself for a few seconds. “Was it Visio Aeternum?" She surprised Sombra with the correct guess.

"How did you know?"

"I knew it! It's so easy to cast that spell, even a toddler can do it... and yet..." she assumed a somber expression and gazed into his eyes. "What gave you the power, the intention to cast the spell?"

Sombra stayed silent. Even under torture, he would not tell anypony about the horror he had had to live through. It was the secret he would never share. Never.

"Don't want to tell...? Alright, keep it a secret; I probably don't want to know anyway. Who knows why you might have needed to spy on somepony," Larissa concluded, and now, she was standing so close to Sombra that he could actually feel her warm breath on his skin.

She smiled again, letting a small drop of blood run down her lips and mouth and fall into the snow. It was clear she wanted something else, but Sombra couldn't think about anything right now, he just wanted to get away from her as fast as possible. He was still unsure if her statement about raping him was a joke or a serious threat.

But all these questions were answered quite soon, when Larissa leaned on the motionless Sombra, rubbing her chest against his. Only now he noticed that she was wearing something underneath that mantle of hers. When she playfully rubbed his cheek, he managed to glance at her chest. It appeared she was wearing a black latex corset which was being held together with a set of pink laces. The hard material rubbed against Sombra's skin, sending a strange spasm throughout his body. It was a weird sensation — pleasant and uncomfortable at the same time.

A clot was stuck in Sombra's throat. He couldn't utter even a single sound while the evidently horny Inquisitress looked at him with her eyes half closed and the tip of her tongue swiping across her lips playfully. It was clear: Blanket was the tame version of this mare. While the strange apparition of his dreams was just flirting, Larissa was not kidding in the slightest.

"Mmm...." she moaned as she pressed herself against Sombra ever harder, the tight latex squeaking under the pressure. “If only you knew how starved I am... So much time spent alone... I might just have a little fun with you right here, right now..."

The only reply from Sombra was silence as if she had shut his mouth with her magic again.

Larissa wrapped her hooves around Sombra's waist, moving him a bit away from the wall.

"Come on, boy. You can't keep innocence forever. You will lose it one way or another; why not now?" she whispered right into his ear. Her words were supposed to be like honey, but to Sombra, they felt like molten metal. He tried jerking around, wanted to free himself from her grip, but to no avail.

"Oooh, still resisting, I see," Larissa bit his ear playfully, drawing just a little bit blood. "Maybe I could show you my mark, huh? Would that persuade you?" The edge of the mantle lit up with dark red color and started slowly moving up, revealing the smooth surface of her hindleg completely. Sombra tried to keep looking away to the side, but primal instinct was forcing him to stare. His fear rose against it, keeping the boys eyes firmly locked on a trashcan down the alleyway.

"You impressed me, Sombra. Not many stallions can look away. To cast dark magic at such a young age! You’d need so much hate for it," she made a faux pouty face. "I had to build up tension for days and days before I could cast my first one.”

Somehow that didn't make the restrained unicorn feel better.

Suddenly, she pressed her lips against his chin and slowly went down, leaving a cold, wet trail as she was going lower and lower. Sombra's body shuddered, and his mind was all over the place, but one thought was clear; he wanted to run away!

Away! Away! Away! Away! Away!

"You're a lot of fun to toy with, Sombra.” She tittered dainty. “But, well, if you don't want it, I can't force you into it," she cooed and her horn finally stopped glowing. Sombra fell down on the ground, gasping for air.

"Go. Run unto your friends," Larissa commanded while Sombra crawled away from her. "We shall meet again one day. I promise I'll keep myself pretty... just for you, you hoofsome beast, tee-hee-hee," the Inquisitress giggled as she seductively stroked her own mane. Sombra didn't notice that however, he got up quickly and was already running away from her as fast as he could.

"A little tip from the pro: make advances on your marefriend right now. You won't believe how... delightful girls are at this age. Like flowers, they bloom just at the point of reaching seventeen," she cried out after Sombra, but the boy couldn't hear her anymore. She was all alone in the alley.

"Sombra, Sombra, Sombra. I shall remember this name. The boy is special... so special," she spoke to no one in particular and sniffed the air. It smelled of trash, snow and flowers.

She should have led him into an apartment of some sorts. He would have smelled her cologne much better that way without all the other odors mixing in.

Ah, the harmony of a perfect cupiditas, you're so easy to ruin.

***

"Sombra! You're okay!" Krystal gasped as she rushed to Sombra and encased him in a warm hug. "I told you he would be okay!"

Iron Wheel approached Sombra, looking pale. He noticed what an expression of shock his friend was wearing. His eyes were wide open, and he didn't change when Krystal hugged him.

"Are you alright?" Iron waved his hoof in front of Sombra.

"What happened back there?" Krystal asked. "Why... do you look so pale?"

Suddenly, Sombra wrapped his hooves around Krystal and pressed her hard against himself, burrowing his face in her soft mane. This surprised the girl very much; she even let out a quiet squeak.

"Something I'd rather forget," Sombra said, resting his head in his marefriend's soft hair. He thought he would never feel these curls again.

"Let's carry on... and get out of here as fast as we can."

"Will you tell us what happened?" Iron asked, surprised by the amount of warmth Sombra suddenly displayed towards Krystal. He would usually wait till nopony was around.

"No. And don't even ask," Sombra replied bluntly. "Let's just carry on."

"Alright, sweetie... if you say so," Krystal said and smiled. "We have a lot of ground to cover for today... Let's go."

She felt the worry and shock Sombra tried to hide quite unsuccessfully, but she decided to play along. This was neither the place nor time to bother him with questions. She would do that later when they are alone.

The three continued on, Krystal leading the way, Iron Wheel carefully looking around, and Sombra stepping fast but careful, thinking that even the smallest bank of snow might hold danger inside of it.

***

"Whew... we're here... whew," Krystal gasped, slowly slogging through the snow. The sweat was streaming down her face and her mane was completely wet.

She and Sombra finally reached the top of a small hill. They both looked exhausted, but satisfied. Krystal breathed in deeply and looked up into the sky, sniffing the air, while Sombra swiped the sweat that ran down his cheek away and shoved a patch of snow into his face.

The biting cold refreshed him a bit, but he still felt incredibly hot. He took a deep breath dived into a pile of snow, effectively burying his head therein.

"Oh... that was something... oh," Krystal said and looked around. The view from the hill was nice; the trees were covered in a thin layer of snow like powdered sugar. The whole park looked like a dessert right now.

"Argh!" Sombra shouted, as he burst out of the snow, splashing the now molten liquid everywhere. "Ah... feels damn good... damn good."

The exhausting workout helped him to calm down from the meeting with the Inquisitress. Though Iron Wheel, like a pansy that he was, hadn't been able to complete the run, and had asked if he could go home after but two hours of running around Crystal City. Sombra wanted to berate Iron, but Krystal had let him go.

He wasn't angry at his beloved for this decision. In fact, he actually loved her bleeding heart — she seemed even more fragile and in need of protection that way. And Sombra would protect her.

"Why did you want us to go all the way up here?" Krystal asked, turning to him. "You know, we could have been finished an hour ago."

"Yeah, I know. I just felt we could use some more time outside. Besides, isn't this a fair view?" Sombra said, pointing at the nature. "This is just gorgeous."

"Yes... it is," Krystal whispered dreamily and turned to the sun. Sombra just wanted to glance into her eyes, but his head was literally invaded by the Inquisitress' offer to see her mark, so he fixed his sight on Krystal's rear. Thankfully, she didn't notice as he turned away, shoving another patch of snow into his face.

This Inquisitor... it was like she had put out the fire of aggression in Sombra and had set his soul on another kind of fire. Talk about out of the frying pan...

"I would look at this scene for all eternity," she said, suddenly yawning. Her legs started to flinch a bit, and she slowly sat down.

"Whoa, Krystal, not in the snow, you’ll catch a cold," Sombra caught her before she could lie down.

"But... I'm so tired... Please, could we find a place to rest?" she uttered and Sombra looked around. They could go for a bench, which was not far from them, but he didn't want to drag her around. What if she’d faint?

This was a weird situation. Krystal was all covered in sweat, tired and exhausted, and the wind was getting stronger. She would catch a terrible cold at this rate if they stayed outside long enough.

"Come here, darling..." Sombra said, hugging her and dragging her down. She didn't resist, and in a second, she was laying on him, her head rubbing against his chest. Sombra wrapped his hooves around her and used magic to slowly transfer warmth from his body to hers.

Krystal made herself comfortable, and after a few adjustments, Sombra was used as a makeshift bed sheet, while his own sheet was the snow and ground. He didn't mind at all, she felt comfortable, and that was all that mattered. He can endure some minor freezes.

"You're so warm..." Krystal whispered, slowly stroking Sombra's right hoof, which he’d put near her cheek.

She moved a little bit upwards, so her head would be on the level with Sombra's, and continued her speech.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell me about what that Inquisitor di—"

"No," Sombra cut her short. "Please, mention it not again."

He knew that this would raise suspicion in her, but he didn't want to tell her. Nothing really dangerous had happened; it just happened he had been caught by a mare, who was probably in heat. Though, her awareness of him and her fangs disturbed him greatly. What if she knew more about him than he realized? Or was he just that easy to read?

"Okay, I won't ask again..." Krystal went silent for a moment and snuggled up closer to him. "Sombra..."

"Aye?"

"Your mother... if you don't mind... can you tell me more about her?" Her voice became quieter with every word she spoke, she was clearly scared to ask.

"Why would you ask that?" he wondered. "I didn't think that you could be interested in my... what was my family..."

"I just want to know..." she whispered and glanced into his eyes, the pretty color of pale blue flickering in them. "Will you tell me?"

"Heh, okay, if you really want to know," he replied. Krystal nuzzled closer to him and Sombra weakened the spell a bit, so he wouldn't exhaust himself.

"I and my mother... it would be an understatement to say that we were friends. She was more..."

***

"Come on, sleepy head, wake up!" Willemite gently tapped Sombra's back, but the foal only lazily waved his little hooves around, trying to drive her away.

"Aw, mom! I am not done sleeping yet!" the little boy replied, but he was the only one who understood what he said, for his face was buried deep in the pillow.

"Come on, come on, Sombra! We have a big day today!" Willemite said, but it seemed Sombra was intending to sleep through the whole day. Now, she couldn't allow that, could she?

She grabbed his blanket by the edge with her teeth and dragged it off to the side. Sombra tried to hold his fluffy cover, but he was no match for Willemite's power.

"Mo-om!" he cried, finally opening his eyes. "I don't want to go!"

He couldn't imagine anything more important than his sleep right now. What could be more important than burying your face in the pillow and flying away into the land of dreams, wherein you were a great knight saving princesses and defeating enormous demons?

"Are you planning to spend the rest of your day in bed? You'll become a vegetable this way,” Willemite noted, "with leaves, roots and green color."

Sombra immediately jumped from the bed, and in ten seconds, he was already standing in front of his mother, smiling widely.

"I am ready!" he informed, prompting loud laughter from Willemite.

"I should check my family tree, one of my ancestors has got to have been a jester", she chuckled. "Come on, dear. Breakfast is ready, and then we're off to the park.”

"Yay!" Sombra shouted, jumping in place. He loved going to the park, they would always have so much fun there. So many butterflies, so many colors, he would never get enough of it.

He looked at his mother and she smiled in return. She looked so young and happy today. Whenever Sombra saw his mother like that, it always filled him with enthusiasm and positive energy for the rest of the day.

After a nutritious breakfast consisting of sandwiches and some cold water, Amethyst took his purse and went away while Willemite prepared Sombra for the trip to the park.

"Don't forget to put on your scarf, dear. It's windy outside."

"But moom! It's the middle of summer."

"Still, put it on, just in case," she said firmly. "Don't want you to catch a cold from a breeze, do we?"

There were no clouds in the sky, so the bright golden color of the sun mixed up with green leaves and grass as Sombra and his mother walked by each other's side. The foal was wearing a puffy red scarf with white outline. He constantly scratched the surface of it as the spiny cloth made his neck itch.

"We're almost there, Sombra, just a few more minutes," Willemite assured.

"Good! Because the scarf is killing me!" he exclaimed, wrapping its ends in his grey aura. However, before he could take it off, Willemite quickly intercepted, by taking over the scarf and wrapping it even tighter around his neck.

"When we're there, I'll let you take it off." She looked around for a moment, and then sighed heavily. "Why even take it off? You look fabulous."

Sombra only replied with a short grumble.

Soon, the two reached a small hill with a small paved road leading to the top. There seemed to be no ponies around at this time, but that was benefiting them; Sombra could go crazy all he wanted.

"Here we are," Willemite exclaimed and finally took the scarf off Sombra. Then, like she had unleashed a wild demon, she was almost knocked back by the amount of dust he kicked out when he charged into the green vast.

Willemite sighed with fondness as she saw her son rolling around in the grass, laughing and turning his belly to the sun, hungry for its warmth. She sat down on one of the benches and observed her little sonny run around and have fun.

He always was a bit crazy, very active and hungry when it came to doing something. When devoid of action, he would certainly grab some pencils and draw a pretty picture.

He also loved hugs. Willemite chuckled slightly at how Sombra, when he’d been much younger, would never go to sleep unless he got himself a portion of warm hugs from her. Sweet, honeyed memories.

She stretched out on the bench and closed her eyes. The morning sun was finally getting to her, she felt somehow exhausted and tired. Just a quick nap, she thought to herself, and lost herself in the dream world.

"Mom! Mom! Mooom!" A persistent call of her son finally dragged Willemite out of her sleep, and she opened her eyes. To her amazement, the sun was in the middle of the sky, which meant she had slept all the way to the noon. She quickly turned around, only to find her darling standing right next to her.

"Oh, thank the Emperor!" Willemite sighed with relief, seeing that Sombra had been smart enough to not run away while she’d been asleep. She actually felt very proud.

"Did I sleep for too long? Are you tired?" she asked him, but he shook his head in denial. "You must have been pretty bored, yes?"

"Well, a bit, but you were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you up," he replied. Willemite chuckled and got up from the bench to stretch her back a bit and to encase Sombra in a warm hug. Oh, how smart, how caring her son was. He was a true angel.

"Mom, I brought you something!" Sombra informed her, broke out of her hug and ran away to return several moments after... carrying a pretty red rose in his mouth.

"So... Sombra... Is that for me?" she stuttered. He nodded with a toothy grin on his face and stretched his muzzle forward, expecting Willemite return the gesture.

Willemite blushed. It had been so many years since somepony gave her flowers. She couldn't even remember the last time it had happened. As she levitated the rose to herself and smelled it, she couldn't drive off the feeling of pride. She was observing a real stallion grow up. Not only that, she was raising this stallion, the future protector of his own home, his own family, and maybe her. Though who would she be to him when he was older? An unnecessary nuisance, that's what.

"Yes! I thought it was very pretty and thought you would like it," Sombra replied. Willemite approached her son and hugged him once again.

"Sombra, when you're older, and your mommy will seem like a nuisance..."

"Don't say that! You'll never be a nuisance!" he interrupted her and Willemite pressed the boy harder against herself. Now, she knew for certain that the future for her son was bright. He had a loving soul and heart. He would live a happy life, she was sure of thereof.

***

"Yeah... I think it was on this very hill," Sombra said, looking dreamily into the sky. "This place looked so much better during summer."

He noticed that Krystal had been incredibly quiet during his whole speech. He carefully bumped her to the side to see if she was still listening to him. He feared that she may have lost her conscience, but there was nothing to be afraid of, however. Just a few moments later, Krystal lovingly poked him to the side of his neck with her snout.

"You really miss her, don't you?"

"I—" Sombra stuttered for a moment as the memories flooded his head. Bitter and sweet, happy and sad — they all came at this very moment.

"Yes... I do..." he replied quietly. "You could say she was the first mare I have ever loved... And don't get any kinky ideas in your head," he frowned slightly, but Krystal only giggled at this remark.

"Hee-hee... Don't worry, I understand what you mean."

Several minutes of awkward silence passed.

"Sombra... if she had a chance to see who you are right now... I think she would be the proudest mare in the world," Sombra turned to his beloved with surprise clearly visible in his eyes. "I, as a mare, can say for certain: you are a dream for any mother… a real diamond."

She glanced over at her beloved and smirked. "A bit rough around the edges, though."

"Hah, more like a hunk of rock covered in sparkly dust!" Sombra said cynically, earning a poke to the side from Krystal. "Ouch."

"Yes, you can be a little... ass-y from time to time," she allowed herself the courtesy of swearing. She wasn't in the noble circle right now, so the freedom was hers. "Sometimes you can be an outright ass... But you're the ass I love, still."

Several seconds passed before they both burst into laughter. The situation turned out more awkward than necessary.

"I swear, one day I will write a book — Phrases, that sound best when taken out of context, by Krystal”, she laughed. "Oh my, that sounded terrible."

"That was funny, however," Sombra noted and increased the warmth inning, also pressing her harder against himself to give her some natural warmth as well. "So, have you rested? Because I'm freezing my 'what-you-mentioned' off."

"Ha-ha-ha! Yeah, I'm all done. Let’s go," she said and got up, stretching out a bit. "You're warm... can't say that you are soft, though."

She accidently waved her tail near Sombra's face, which his mind was considered as some sort of flirt, so he immediately looked away in order not to start staring. The words of the Inquisitress were still fresh in his mind and they ridiculed his young teenage mind, flipping his image of a mare upside down.

"When it's spring, I will make sure to invite you for a date or two," Krystal said. "We haven't had those since.... fifth grade, I think. What do you think, love? Want some tête-à-tête with me?"

Sombra swallowed once again. If she had asked him before, he would never think anything other than some nice company, a good conversation and tasty food. Now — damn that Inquisitress — he was thinking something else entirely.

"Of course, love. I would... really like some dates".

"Perfect!" Krystal said and flexed her hindlegs. "Just wait till spring. Nature is at its fairest at such time."

Sombra silently nodded to her, trying to clean his head of sticky thoughts. He had certainly chosen the worst time to drop smoking. He could definitely use a drag or two right now. Just to calm down, of course.

***

"Just up ahead!" Krystal exclaimed enthusiastically as her horn flickered, moving apart the bushes blocking her way. The fresh green grass crunched under her elegantly polished hooves and small drops of sweat were quite close to ruining her makeup. The expensive shades and rouge could be easily ruined by even a slight touch of water.

Sombra followed her obediently, sometimes stopping to deeply breathe in the early spring's air. It was very, very warm, but the breezes were constant, refreshing the ponies, which would tire of the heat, if they felt one.

"We're near. Just a little bit further," Krystal assured, carefully swiping her left forehoof across her forehead.

"I'm a bit worried, to be fair," Sombra said, looking around. "What if anypony busts us?"

"Busts us? Come on, Sombra, it's not like we're going to do something horrible!" Krystal exclaimed. "A simple picnic. What could be so bad about that?"

"But did you really need to invite me over to your house? It kind of freaks me out — your garden is probably bigger than the whole park... and the mansion itself looks like a castle," he said, looking at the beautiful mansion, looming just behind the birch trees that obstructed the view of it slightly.

"Duh, just relax, love. It’s going to be alright. My parents are away for the whole week, and I ordered servants to take some days off. We're all alone here," she sung and continued tearing through the bushes. Sombra sighed and followed her.

Spring had arrived unexpectedly and much earlier than expected. For many farmers and other business ponies, it was a disaster; and yet for the loving couples, it was the best gift the nature could have given them. Many had planned their dates and Krystal and Sombra were no exceptions. The opportunity granted the girl a chance to lead her sweetheart to her house.

Though, Krystal didn't invite him to the house per se. Instead, they had decided to have a picnic in the garden. Krystal had eagerly awaited that day while Sombra went to bed with many doubts, not knowing what to expect.

"And... here we are!" she said, opening a passage that revealed a peaceful glade before them. There was a small pond with butterflies flying thereover, a hill covered in blooming flowers, and soft grass with tiny insects crawling in this forest of grass blades — a picture straight out of an art book.

In the middle of the clearing, a colorful sheet was placed with a huge picnic basket in the middle thereof. The cutlery — dishes, glasses and so on — was already in place, just ready to be filled with delicious food.

"Krystal... this is gorgeous!" Sombra said in awe. Krystal turned around and smiled.

"Thank you! It took a lot of effort to make it how it looks today," she replied. "My mother and I did so much planning. The pond was my idea, actually."

A little bit of bragging wouldn't hurt.

They approached the sheet and sat down opposite of each other. Krystal's horn sparkled as all kinds of food levitated out of the basket: sandwiches, a few cupcakes, a cake and a bowl of hay salad. Sombra's tongue instinctively tried to get out of the mouth and hang on the side. He hadn't eaten for the whole day and seeing the display of food made him quite eager to try everything offered.

"You know, you've been doing very well at school lately," Krystal noticed, gracefully biting a sandwich. "I'm very proud."

"Thanks... Though, this stupid math is the bane of my existence," Sombra replied. Well, as far as 'very well' goes, he had just stopped getting the lowest grades all the time and started getting them just 'often'. Still, Krystal considered this a success.

"Math isn't stupid. You just have to learn the formulas and memorize them. It's not that hard. Can’t see why you are having trouble. If it's trigonometry, then..." and then she descended into rambling. Sombra stopped listening to her at that point. Instead, he looked at her, admiring her beauty.

Krystal had really prepared for this date. Her mane was carefully combed and fluttering in the wind. The long curls would frizzle around her shoulders and Sombra wondered what was softer: her mane, or her skin?

It had to be her mane. After all, she took great care of it: all kinds of shampoos, morning jogs and healthy food made her hair look sweet and fresh. At the right angle, it would look like threads straight out of heaven, used to make golden dresses for beautiful goddesses.

But her skin wasn't far behind. Smooth, short fur akin to a peach sparkled in the sun, looking so inviting like a freshly cleaned bed. Anypony would want to touch it and Sombra was no exception. While Krystal was all consumed by mathematical formulas and problems, he enjoyed the view of her sides and belly. The plumpness Krystal hated so much was eye candy for Sombra. It made her look special, unique.

Out of boredom, Sombra started to compare Krystal and the self-called 'ideal mare', Blanket. The latter had the complexity of a queen, or how they looked in on tapestries — as beautiful as a goddess. Krystal had flaws, quite a bunch of them. Too much flesh there, not enough there, and the imperfect balance in the middle.

Sombra was quite surprised; he had never done this before, never compared Krystal to anypony. Not even after Blanket. But after that curious thing with Larissa...

"And that concludes... Were you even listening?" Krystal exclaimed, snapping Sombra out of his trance.

"Yeah, yeah. So, plus what, you said?" he said something blindly, prompting a frown from her.

"I figured. Let's change topic, okay? What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know..." Sombra replied and they sat silent for a minute. He looked for the right words, desperately tried to make up a joke or a funny comment.

"Hey... what did the green grape say to a purple one?"

Krystal gazed at him with surprise, even lifting her eyebrow as if asking: what did you smoke this time? Though, after having a bite of the delicious sandwich, she played along.

"You don't exist?"

"No... Breathe, idiot! Breathe!" Sombra replied, enunciating the answer of the green grape unto his dying brother.

"Huh... funny," Krystal promptly replied. She looked around, took a deep breath, realizing that inviting Sombra to her house probably hadn't been a good idea. He just couldn't get used to the environment. But she knew just the right cure for this parasite of Sombra's shyness.

"Hey, dear, it's your first time in my house... well, not really in, just near it. Still, I brought us something very relaxing. You'll love it, I promise," her horn lit up and Sombra heard the ringing of glass.

Out of the basket, Krystal levitated a big bottle of wine. The red liquid floundered about in its prison of glass and the only thing preventing its release was the bung with a string attaching a label, reading Le Fruit du Serpent, probably Unicornian.

"Wha... what is..." Sombra stuttered, pointing at the bottle. He had expected anything, but this!

"What? It's wine. You've never seen alcohol before?" Krystal smiled warmly.

"I did. And I don't want to see it ever again," Sombra grumbled in reply. He felt so much hurt in his soul, the day seemed ruined. He scowled and turned away.

"Oh, come on, love! Don't be a grump. It's just a drink!" Krystal wanted to change his mind, but to no avail. She sighed heavily, putting the bottle down.

"Sombra, you will have to drink alcohol one day or another. Why not try now?"

There was no answer.

"Just try a sip. It won't kill you!"

"No! I'm not going to drink! And that's final!" Sombra cut in before she could persuade him any further. The girl smiled once again and looked at her beloved.

"Sombra, if you think drinking is bad, you're wrong! Drinking too much is bad. Drinking alone is bad. Drinking with a pony you love is not bad. Or do you not consider me company for you?" she pronounced with feigned sadness. Sombra looked at her with mixed anger and sadness. He finally sighed heavily.

"Just a few sips... nothing more," he said, glancing into her bright eyes. Krystal clapped her hooves while levitating the bottle unto Sombra's glass.

"Would you kindly help the lady to open the wine?"

Sombra's horn glowed grey as the bung flew out of the bottle with a loud pop. The crimson drink poured into the limpid glass, filling it almost to the brim. The sun was shining through the wine, giving the ground underneath this glass a shade of red.

"There you go. Now, drink slowly, not all in one gulp."

Sombra lifted the glass up to his muzzle and smelled the drink. It had the distinct smell of spice, a bit sour and yet partly sweet. The unicorn took a deep breath and poured the drink into his mouth.

To his big surprise, it tasted very, very nice. He expected his stomach to reject the drink immediately, but the sour taste and biting flavor of alcohol actually appealed to him. He felt a slight headache, but it was gone in a second.

"Woah... this is actually... pretty nice!" Sombra declared and Krystal smiled widely, pouring herself a cup.

"You see? Nothing horrible happened. Your first glass of wine. And you feel fine and dandy!" she cooed. "Want some more?"

Sombra nodded and waited till Krystal had filled her own glass and then got to his.

They lifted the glasses into the air and clinked them together. But right before drinking, Krystal suddenly hummed, wanting to get Sombra's attention.

"Did you know that clinking glasses was once used to test trust in the royal court? They clinked them so hard that the drinks would spill out and mix with each other. So, if there’d been poison in the drink, both the royal and the other pony would die when they drank their wine! Quite inventive, isn't it?" Krystal explained and sipped her drink. "Ah, pure bliss. This is my favorite wine. My father has a whole basement full of the bottles like this."

"And I'd imagine you didn't ask his permission when you took the bottle?" Sombra asked, and, after seeing the pink blush on Krystal's face, he was certain of a positive answer. It appeared that Saint Krystal was guilty of some crimes as well.

"He wouldn't have allowed me to take it otherwise... But isn't it more fun like this? Kind of... your style," she tried to appeal to Sombra's pride.

"My style? What style would that be? Please, clarify."

"Well... 'Rules Go Screw Yourselves' style," she said, prompting a cluckle from Sombra. Yes, she was right, that was his style.

Time passed on and the amount of wine in the bottle decreased whenever Sombra and Krystal ran out of things to talk about. A full glass of the delicious drink would give them a second breath. They talked and talked while the surroundings became brighter and happier for them. The blooming flowers looked like smiling faces and the clouds assumed the shapes of ponies or animals.

"Just a bit... more," Krystal said, covering her mouth just before the hiccup hit her. "Oh, sorry. Most unladylike of me."

She noticed that Sombra was sitting with an empty glass, peacefully chewing a salad leaf, so she poured him a full one.

"Have some more... I've got... another bottle in the basket," Krystal assured and smiled awkwardly. Sombra looked at her, her image dividing in two just a little bit. Despite all that, he could see the pretty blush on her cheeks very akin to the color of Fuji apples: pink, or very light red. Her eyes were bright and happy, she thoroughly enjoyed this picnic. Looking at her, Sombra wanted to have fun too, he felt free and unshackled, and even the dreaded, disgusting memories of his father couldn't ruin this beautiful moment. This wasn't mead or ale. This was wine, the drink royalty and noble ponies. They both deserved it.

After three more glasses, Sombra felt mighty strange. The bottle was, alas, empty, and so was his mind. It seemed like whatever idea he had at the time would quickly burrow itself into the depths of his mind and run away. He tried to look around, and felt sick after doing so. The world started to passively roll around him as though he was riding a merry-go-around. Krystal, however, seemed completely content with the amount of what she had and she didn't want to stop.

The loud pop pierced the air, when she opened another bottle. She asked Sombra with a gesture if he wanted some more, but he gently refused the offer. After two glasses, she seemed to have brightened up.

"So... what about tha... that orange round-macha-thingy?" She asked, shaking a bit when she leaned forward, smiling widely.

"It was a rape... I mean a grape. A green grape and,” he hiccupped. “sorry... a purple grape," Sombra mumbled. "What did he say to the... purple one?"

"He burned him on a cross?" Krystal guessed, trying some racist jokes, though Sombra was too drunk to recognize that.

"No... He said...” he hiccupped again. “Breath-fff... Idiot, breathe!" Sombra mumbled and covered his ears as Krystal burst into loud laughter. She fell on the ground holding her belly, barely managing to breathe between spasms of laughter.

"Oh... Ha-ha-ha! Breathe! Ha-ha-ha! Oh my... Sombra, you're so funny!" she hollered. "You're a real comedian. Ah, you're killing me, oh my!"

"Yeah... I get that a lot," Sombra mumbled in reply. He felt quite weird, it was nothing he had ever felt before. This feeling was strange, and very, very pleasing at the same time.

"Ah, Sombs.... Ah, oh boy. I don't I've ever drank this much before!" Krystal said, having just come up with diminutive for 'Sombra'. "This is awesome."

"You don't... say," Sombra replied, putting a leaf of salad into his mouth, hoping it would relieve the effect of alcohol... somehow. He still felt quite in his right mind, but walking back home would be a major pain in the croup.

After another glass of wine, Krystal finally had enough, threw the glass back into the basket and fell on the grass. She rubbed her back against the soft, warm earth and closed her eyes, enjoying the massage. Sombra looked at her with a slight dash of 'what the Abyss'. In reply, Krystal only rolled around a few times more before finally spreading her hooves and allowing the sun to grace her with its touch.

"Aaah.... this is beautiful... I love this! Yay!" she drawled and turned her head to Sombra. "Would you be so kind, my prince, to stroke me a bit? I've got an itch right," she pointed at her belly, "... here."

Sombra slowly approached her, managing to hold his balance, and touched her where she pointed. Her fur felt much softer than he could imagine, soften than any fluff he could imagine! And the alcohol, combined with her natural warmth, made her feel ever so much warmer. Sombra felt pleased just by touching her.

To add insult to injury, Krystal started to purr for no reason. It seemed she loved this little game no less than he did. She waved her forehooves in the air as if she was a cat, and meowed.

"Just a few inches above, honey, if you don't mind..." she informed and when Sombra tickled her where she pointed, she shuddered. "Oh, yes... Meow..."

"Krystal.... I think you might need to stop... You see, I kinda need to... a few minutes of relaxation," Sombra tried to enlighten his marefriend, for he could no longer hold back his deepest primal desires and her behavior wasn't helping him at all.

"And if I say no, what will you do? Kick your lovely, purring kitten, mmm? Meow," she teased him with a quiet, inviting voice. While Sombra managed to preserve his cold sense, Krystal had drunk too much to understand what she was doing.

She was lying just near him, all open and welcoming, somewhat willing. But using this moment would be a betrayal of her trust! Sombra looked into her eyes. They stared at him with love, compassion and trust, and yet he couldn't fight the desire that was born inside him since that passionate kiss, four years ago.

This desire slowly grew bigger and bigger, and now, it might find its release and fulfillment.

"Would you be so kind to give lady her drink?" Krystal demanded, pointing at the wine.

"I think lady had had enough for today," Sombra retorted, which didn't please Krystal at all.

"Lady demands her drink! Perform this simple task and lady might reward you gently," she cooed, slowly caressing Sombra's cheek. She probably meant a kiss.

This little tease was the last straw, and Sombra finally snapped as he pressed his lips against her mouth, practically nailing her against the ground. Krystal widened her eyes in surprise. Even through her buzz, she was able to guess Sombra's intentions.

The kiss was different. Sombra remembered Larissa's little 'test' well, and now he was using what he’d learned therefrom to its fullest extend. He wrapped his hooves around his beloved and made the kiss last even longer.

She didn't fight back. After a few seconds of staring in surprise, she gave in as well, her decision affected more by alcohol than the mind.

They broke the kiss for a second to take a breath and calm down the raging fire of feelings.

"That was... unexpected,” Krystal said, breathing heavily. "Something new... I like that immensely."

"Krystal..." Sombra didn't find any right words. The buzz swiped all the poetry and romance straight out of his head, so he cut the trash talk. "...Will you be mine?"

Krystal smiled once again, but this smile looked so... lustful.

"I shall... with pleasure."

Potency

It didn't last too long: less than half an hour. But for them, it was enough to feel the bliss. The call of the flesh answered and fulfilled, Sombra and Krystal were laying under the drifting sun, letting it evaporate the steaming fumes of alcohol and intoxication from them.

Krystal closed her eyes and burrowed her muzzle in Sombra's mane, trying to somehow ease the headache that had come so sudden. The boy didn’t know if she was still drunk or sobered-up already. From time to time, she would purr gently and caress her lover's chest, slowly tickling in the most sensitive places. Her touch was as soft as a feather.

"What's to become of us, Sombra?" she whispered in his ear, quietly, as if she had just woken up. "What's to become of us?"

"What do you mean?" Sombra asked, turning to her. Was it an alcohol induced weakness or did she feel fine now?

"I mean... just look at us. I'm a daughter of an ambassador, and you're of common birth. And yet we love each other even though deep inside we know that we can't be together," she continued to whisper. "For now, we can live like this... meet in secret when nopony's looking. But what about our future? — Do we have one?"

Sombra raised his eyes heavenwards as if looking for an answer. He had never thought about it before. She was of high birth and he was simple street dirt. How could they possibly be together? Even though Lux kept talking about equality, no noticeable changes had been noticed in that regard — everything was stale and old.

"I don't know... I really don't," Sombra replied and sighed heavily. "Could we change the subject? I'm not really in the mood to talk about anything serious."

Krystal chuckled, looking at her lover with playful eyes. "Oh, of course you're not. I bet your head will be filled with nothing but back-and-forth movement. All day, all night," she leaned closer to his head and closed her eyes. "Unforgettable... though, you could have lasted a bit longer, you know."

"Bah," Sombra snorted. "You didn't have to moan so loudly. It got to me... 'twas a bit too much."

He didn't know any more excuses, but Krystal replied with a giggle and kissed him playfully.

"You know, we nobles value virginity more than life, at times. And it was so worth it."

Sombra smiled at that, but sighed at the same time. The alcoholic presence was still strong in Krystal. When she had sobered-up, her reaction should be much less... accepting. But for now, Sombra enjoyed the tenderness of his beloved pony, the pony he could proudly call his inamorata.

***

"No... by the Emperor, no..." Krystal mumbled, holding her head. "Please... kill me..."

"Relax, Krystal, it's just a headache. Here," Sombra tried to calm her down, putting a pelvis of water in front of her. The girl shoved her face into the cold liquid, praying for the relief.

Sombra looked at the horizon, at the sunset, to be precise. It seemed they had slept util the evening, which would explain why Krystal was finally sane again. Too bad he was unable to leave until that moment, but it seemed that, right now, she needed him more than ever.

After soaking her face in water, Krystal backed away a bit and massaged her temples. The headache was horrible, surely. Sombra had a weak one as well, but Krystal behaved like nails were being beaten into her skull.

"Uuuugh..." she muttered, covering her mouth. It was unnerving Sombra a lot.

"Krystal, relax! It's not like it's fatal. It's just a headache."

"Dying right now would be desirable. Very desirable..." she replied, letting herself drop down on the ground. "My dad's going to kill me."

"Not if we can clean up before they arri—"

"Ha-ha, nice joke — ten out of ten!" she groused. "I meant... well... you know what I meant. You can guess... Oh, sweet apples, my head..."

It wasn't too hard to figure out.

"I'm... sorry," Sombra said, remembering how differently she reacted to this when under the influence of wine.

"I knew taking the wine was a bad idea. Now, I know that it wasn't just bad, it was horrible," she looked into the water and splashed some into her face. "I can't believe you took advantage of that."

"Kryss, I'm really sorry! How many times do I have to say that?"

"As oft as you can..." she splashed more water in her face.

This seemed like the end of the world to her. Her family would never accept her again. Losing innocence with so little purpose...

Virginity was valued in society, especially among the nobles. Young mares like her were such a good tool for striking profitable deals, getting privileges, or just for a good sum of gold. Innocence could be traded, it was a commodity, but it could only be sold and bought once. Krystal had given hers away for free.

She opened her eyes, looking at her reflection in the water. Just what in the Abyss was she thinking? Her innocence was no commodity! It was her decision what to do therewith. She had given it away on her own volition: for love.

"Ugh... okay... forget it. What's done is done."

"Please, don't be angry, Kryssie. I just don't know what's gotten into me."

"I'm not angry... it was just a temporary... mare's hysterics," she approached Sombra. "I'm glad it was you... and not anypony else... because I love you."

She looked at him from under her soaked mane with a smile on her lips, silently reassuring Sombra that everything was alright.

"Hey," he wrapped a strong hoof around her, drawing her in close, "Are we technically called a stallion and a mare, now? Because we're not... well... you know."

"Technically, we were called that since we turned thirteen. When you become bigger than an average filly or a foal, they call you a stallion, even if you're still a virgin," she said nonchalantly.

"Uh... yeah... right," the newly-born stallion said.

"There's nothing wrong with saying virgin. It's not a cuss word," Krystal explained while fondling her head, fighting back another spasm of headache. "Though, if it were a cuss word, you would say it nonstop."

They stood silent for a minute. Krystal pulled back from Sombra, approaching the picnic place to belook it with something akin to sadness in her pale-blue eyes.

"But Sombra... if anypony asks, nothing happened here. Nothing, you understand?"

"Yes, nothing. Just a simple picnic," Sombra nodded. "Though... does that mean I can't even hope for a second time?"

Krystal facehoofed while Sombra snickered.

"You're stupid."

"I agree," he retaliated, his head still cloudy with alcohol "but was that an aye?"

***

The cafeteria was full, just as it should be at this time of the day: the evening. Sombra was peacefully enjoying his meal, which he had actually bought, not stolen. Iron Wheel, however, felt distressed. He cast his eyes hither and yon with great sadness evident in them, mostly focusing his sight on any mares that passed by. When a pretty mare with curly long mane passed right by him, he sighed heavily and lowered his head.

"What's the matter, Iron? Lost your favorite wrench?" Sombra asked, gulping down a glass of water.

"No, not that—" Iron Wheel replied.

“Then it's all okay," Sombra interrupted, whereto Iron sighed again.

"I meant that... thanks for letting me run with you and Krystal. I really like spending my time with you two," he said and his friend nodded.

"No problem, of course, but why are you thanking me now? Earlier would have made much more sense."

"It's just that, after spending time with you guys, I realized that... I'm lonely," he confessed. "In a way that... I don't have a marefriend."

"I've been telling you before: find one, or you might be sent to mines," Sombra joked, but that didn't brighten up Iron Wheel.

"I'm serious here, Sombra. I really, really need a marefriend! Really-really!"

Sombra put down his sandwich and looked at Iron Wheel with a bit of suspicion.

"How 'really' are we talking about, hmm?" he asked, confusing the young pony. "Did you have any dreams, involving... mares doing... stuff?"

Iron Wheel looked at his friend, completely losing the thread of events.

"Well, yes... I had a few dreams wherein a strange mare was riding on one of my inventions... so what?"

"Okay, then..." Sombra replied, figuring that only he had the strange visits by a mare that claimed to be his blanket. The more he thought about it, the less it made sense.

"I can try to help you. But I need to see how the situation rolls. Go and try to set up a date now."

Iron Wheel's jaw dropped.

"Just... like that? Just go and ask a mare out?"

"Yes. Just try it. Do everything you think might work. When you get back, inform me of the results," Sombra said, using this moment of loneliness to process the situation. Quite humorous, truly.

So, the young Iron Wheel wanted a girl to cuddle? Quite strange, considering how he used to always expect the worst from anypony. He wouldn't even consider looking for friends besides Sombra. And now he wanted a marefriend! Did the friendship with Sombra change him that much? Or did he just envy Sombra for having Krystal?

Yes, probably the latter. Who wouldn't get jealous, though? Krystal was beautiful, truly magnificent. All her talks about excessive weight? — Idiocy. Her pudginess was one of her better traits, in his eyes. She felt so soft on touch... he couldn't forget how warm and soft she had felt when he kissed her, tasted her sweet skin.

He couldn't forget that delicious taste of wine on her lips. How hot and wet her kisses were. How sultry were her speeches, oh, by the Emperor! He could never imagine something like that could ever come out of her mouth. And her moans, he wouldn't forget them in a million years. She was beautiful in a different, much more personal way. Sombra was sure he would never see her behave that way in public. It was a Krystal only he knew and experienced.

Finally, Iron Wheel returned, holding his red cheek, which he occasionally rubbed. Seemed he’d gotten quite a slap.

"So, I assume..." Sombra pointed at the bruise. "Yeah."

"See? I'm horrible at dating! Can you help me?" he asked and Sombra sighed.

"Yeah, I'll try. No promises, though," Sombra glanced around. In reality, he didn't know too much about dates as well. The only mare he had ever been with was Krystal, but because of his tremendous popularity, many mares seemed to look at him with interest. He ignored most of them, maybe winked at one or two, but that was all.

"Try setting up your relationships. Don't just walk up to a mare and say: Yo, what's up, let's go out! That's a good way to get a slap in the face," Sombra recited. "Well, I see you did just that."

"Yeah... sort of," Iron Wheel replied, rubbing his cheek. "Ouch."

Sombra couldn't recall what he told the poor boy. Probably a bunch of trash talk - he really didn't know how to set up dates. With Krystal, it all happened so suddenly, unexpected. He realized that, if it weren't for her, he would still be lonely.

Time passed on, but they were still talking. Though, from giving Iron Wheel tips, Sombra slipped to just blatant discussion about mares, akin to those stallions at a bar would have.

"I always find that crystal unicorns are pickier than crystal ponies," Iron Wheel stated. "I mean, look at the nobility; every unicorn always wears some regalia, some more regalia, and scarves, don't forget the scarves."

"What? Go to Abyss, that's not true! Non-unicorn mares wear regalia too, so don't give me this rigmarole. Besides, I find mares in fancy clothes much prettier than those without," Sombra retaliated, pouring himself some water. "You should see Krystal when she's wearing her scarf, she's stunning."

"Well, can't argue with that. Krystal is one heck of a mare," Iron Wheel looked away. "Ah... I wish I had a pony like her by my side... My life would be complete."

"Surely. Though, you can't find a pony as beautiful as her in the whole wide world, " Sombra replied. "I'm sure you'll find yourself somepony nice... I think... maybe."

He really doubted that Iron Wheel will be able to find a mare. He didn't have enough patience, absolutely no confidence, and, of course, ponies only knew his name because they’d seen his silhouette in Sombra’s shadow. Some even called him Sombra's tail. All in all, he wasn't considered a good pick among the mares of the school.

The unicorn noticed Krystal slowly walking into the cafeteria. She carefully looked around as if she was scared, no, afraid of something.

"Sorry, Iron, but I have to go. Good luck with your endeavors," he sung and quickly approached Krystal. She didn't notice him as he slowly sneaked from behind and surprised her with a warm hug.

"Boo!" he whispered quietly in her ear. She twitched from surprise, turning her head towards him. "Scared you, didn't I?"

"Kind of."

"Ha-ha... How are you doing, dear?" Sombra asked, fondly nuzzling in her mane. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes... Just could you please do your fondling somewhere else?" she critiqued Sombra's sudden outburst of feelings. "You're embarrassing us both."

"Sorry, sorry! But can't I just express my feelings to my most loved pony of all time?"

"Yeah, whatever," Krystal replied. Sombra was more than a little shaken by how cold she was. What happened? He needed to know.

"Alright... Let's talk outside," Sombra offered, whereto Krystal concurred with a curt nod.

"Let's. We have a lot of things to discuss."

The fresh wind renewed Sombra's intention to discover what the deal with Krystal was as they walked behind the building where Sombra used to smoke. The young spring was truly the most beautiful time of year. Though, that being said, Sombra couldn't wait till summer, for then, he and Krystal would have all the time in the world.

"So, will I get any explanations?" the dark unicorn asked while his object of passion looked around nervously.

"There's nothing to explain. Just try not to showcase our relationship like that, okay? Our love is no trophy."

That remark made Sombra blush slightly. He used to be protective of their relationship, why did it all change?

Though, with that said, Krystal had never been so secretive.

"Kryssie, I can see that something is wrong. You helped me; let me help you. Is somepony troubling you?" he questioned, pointing first at himself, then at her with his right hoof, followed by a cutthroat gesture to imply what would happen to a pony who’d cause her trouble.

"Yes, Sombra, my parents, they're troubling me."

"But... they haven't even come back!" he exclaimed, prompting a sad, heavy sigh from his beloved.

"Sombra... You see, what we did yesterday... It was wrong... so wrong," she shifted her weight awkwardly from one hoof to the other. "The noble mares have to stay innocent until their marriage. It's an ancient tradition... and I broke it."

A small tear appeared in her eye.

"I don't know what will happen to me if my parents find out. I'm so scared, Sombra... I'm so scared." She stood by the wall and looked heavenwards, trying to hide the tears.

"I don't know how to carry on after this... It's only now that I started to think that, one day, we'll have to go separate ways."

The thought was heavy. The thought was disgusting. But it was here and it was so painfully real.

Sombra couldn't imagine himself and Krystal separated. They were born to be together! They were made for each other!

"No!" he shouted, scaring the young mare. "No!"

Sombra approached her and kissed her passionately. She was confused, she didn't want to, but he forced her to, and slowly, she just surrendered to his embrace. He wrapped his hooves around her waist and pressed her closer to himself.

"As long as I'm alive, I won't abandon you, Krystal. It doesn't matter what others say, I'll always be there for you. Always."

"Thank you, Sombra... Thank you so much," Krystal whispered, caressing his mane. "I promise, I won't abandon you too. Even if it would mean that I have to abjure my noble blood, I'm ready to do that."

They stood together for quite a while, just staring at each other. But the exchange helped them realize something - in this world, they are together. They had to help each other. They were one.

"Did you like the wine, by the way? I forgot to ask," Krystal asked innocently. Yes, with all the stress, it was easy to forget the simple things.

"I don't drink alcohol, but I have to admit, it was very good. Ten out of ten would drink again," he replied. Krystal rolled her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Can you let me move now? I'm not really used to standing bipedal," she noted and Sombra backed away a bit, still looking at her with tenderness. "That's better... So, back to lessons, are we?"

"If you want it thus. I'd rather go take a walk," Sombra yawned. "It's spring. It's too beautiful to miss."

"I've been neglecting your school business too much, Sombra — time to get serious, love. Come on, come on!" she called him and he followed reluctantly, but he followed. At last, Sombra, the Rule Breaker, finally went to a lesson somewhat willingly.

***

Krystal lazily scratched the surface of her glass and sighed. There were times wherein she would sit down by this window, overlooking the garden of her house, and just stare at the view, amusing herself with soothing thoughts. But right now, she felt only confusion and melancholy.

Even though she and Sombra talked it over already, she still couldn't get over what happened in the garden. Krystal had only gotten drunk once; this had been her second time, and she was afraid to imagine what she had at that banquet — which had been her first time — her parents never told her.

Perhaps she should be more careful with alcohol next time. Or just choose another dulcet drink to enjoy.

Krystal sighed once again and walked away from the window to her bed. It was a relatively small bed with a puffy warm fur blanket and big white pillow. Her room overall looked quite... girly, if she dared to say so: bright colors, like pale blue walls and brown rug on the floor, the mirror to the right of her bed, with several cabinets for her big amount of clothes. Their neighbors, big bookcases, housed many stories of adventures and romance as well as history books and encyclopedias.

The girl smirked as she glanced over a few romance novels on the top shelves. She remembered reading those as a kid, when she was just a filly, young and stupid. First, the nannies had read them to her, but, after a while, she had started reading on her own.

She lay down on her bed and levitated an old book to herself: The Serenade of a Lonely Heart, her most favorite folk legend, or 'Basnya', as they were hight in Crystallian. It told the story of love, pure and innocent.

As the book was floating near her, Krystal giggled sarcastically. Now, she knew that love was not always innocent.

The whole world was filled with so many memories, so many plush toys depicting cute little animals, bunnies, birds. She would walk with them in the park, play with them, feed them with imaginary food. They were all alive. And they seemed alive for quite a long time, even when she had stopped playing with them. Now, they all looked like just toys, things that woke up warm memories.

Krystal wrapped her tail around herself, lowered her head and tried to let go of these memories, memories of her being a small, silly child. She was no kid. Not anymore.

Sorry, friends... Sorry, my little, dear pets... Your Krystal... had grown up, she thought, looking at her toys. Led to an adult life by alcohol and a stallion... Sorry.

She had to leave her childhood behind. There was no more coming back. The only path was ahead.

With childhood left, there came something else: realization. Krystal realized that what she and Sombra did was quite... shameful, and yet, during that moment, they couldn't be any closer. Their minds and their bodies were unified.

What a philosophical thought for such a shameful picture. A simple act of coitus, that was what it had been, nothing more. Krystal touched her belly and stopped breathing for a moment.

She felt so guilty for doing it and she felt even guiltier for wanting more. It was worse knowing how she had berated Sombra for taking advantage of her weakness. And, nary a week later, she started to doubt her judgment. Maybe Sombra had done a right thing; after all, he was no stranger to her, he was her love. It was better to experience sex for the first time with him and not by her parents' guide.

Krystal wrapped her warm blanket around herself and asked forgiveness one more time. All her feelings were now concentrated on Sombra and how strange it was to find out new, secret things about your friends.

Krystal closed her eyes and descended into dreams, though, they had changed drastically over this week. From dreams of romance, of holding hooves and watching the sunset together, they changed to dreams of physical touches and possession. Her body started to shiver and sweat, as she felt guilty of these thoughts, but still accepted them.

Krystal started murmuring something to herself, her hooves trembling and shaking as she slowly rubbed her own belly.

"Mmmrrrmmm...." the young mare muttered, concentrating her mind on her newly acquired dreams. Suddenly, she was rudely interrupted as her caretaker opened the door.

"My mistress, I have some urgent news!" the old pony with two braids, each entwined with a red ribbon, dark red coat and ginger mane, cried and blushed a bit when Krystal slowly turned to her, the warm furry blanket constraining her movement.

"Some privacy, maybe?!" Krystal shouted angrily and then sighed with frustration. "What’s the news?"

"The letter from your father had just arrived. He's writing that they were called — urgently called — away for a diplomatic mission," the mare quickly told. "So, your parents will be away for... more than a month, if I recall correctly."

More than a month? And they were supposed to arrive today. What a coincidence.

"Maybe mistress desires something to eat? Drink?" the caretaker offered, whereto Krystal hummed a bit, deciding she needed a drink.

"Yes, some tea would be nice. Please, arrange that. I'll come down in an hour or so," she said.

"As my mistress desires," the old mare left just as fast as she arrived, closing the door behind her. Krystal groaned in frustration and closed her eyes again. Hopefully, nopony would interrupt her this time.

She was... happy that her parents would not be present at home for a long time. Krystal didn't want them to see how her ideals and values fell apart, turned into dust for other, much more carnal desires. She didn't want them to watch her grow up.

***

"Could have lasted a bit longer, eh?" Sombra mumbled to himself, tossing the book back at the top of the shelf. "Longer, longer, longer."

He wanted to think of something else, but couldn't. All his thoughts dragged him back to that drunken remark. Maybe she had joked, just taunted him... or maybe the alcohol made her speak what she really thought.

This thought bothered him ever since she said it. Throughout this whole week, he had been tormented by it, this one accursed, damn thought that, mayhap, he was lacking something. Half of something, not good enough, an amateur, a weakling. But, most important, that Krystal would be not be satisfied.

"What a load!" he grumbled out loud, picking up the book of dark magic. Of course, she was satisfied! She told him herself!

Though, she never mentioned anything about joy afterwards. Maybe the wine made her dishonest?

Be very careful when using dark magic in desperate situations. Control and calmness are necessary when converting energy, lest it escape your control and cause massive destruction, Sombra read, turning page after page.

Could the Dark Arts somehow improve his stamina, per chance? He somewhat doubted that. Maybe it was because he used to smoke so much. Speaking of smoking, he could use a drag right now, or two.

No, he promised Krystal to drop it, and he would keep his promise. He already wasted enough of his health puffing smoke, and especially now, when it was affecting his health in such a manner, he wouldn't even look at a cigarette.

Though, maybe the Dark Arts did have some spells that might help him.

"Argh, damn it!" Sombra suddenly snapped, throwing the book into the corner and gritting his teeth. Why wouldn't he stop thinking about it? Krystal didn't seem too keen on giving it another go anyway! Why was he stuck up with this idea? This didn't seem to bother him before...

But they had never slept before. And, if they sleep together ever again... he didn't want to disappoint her. Maybe that was why she had behaved so strange this week: she didn't consider him a stallion, but rather just some street boy with a lot of attitude and not enough substance to back it up.

Bullshit! Krystal loved him! He was her dearest pony. But what if she was too disappointed with his performance? Too disappointed to the point where she’d consider finding another stallion? One who was stronger, more able? Krystal was beautiful. In Sombra's eyes, she had lost all her flaws long ago; she was perfect. Finding another stallion would likely take her but a second.

Sombra got up from his bed and approached the bookshelf with a weary sigh. All these thoughts that he could share with nopony without embarrassing himself. His classmates were a bunch of cretins, who would blush and giggle at the very word ‘sex’, or any reproductive organs. The lessons of biology always evolved into a complete circus, complete with loud laughter, quiet giggles and blushing cheeks. It never helped that their teacher was the God of Innuendos and a big fan of bananas.

Sombra cast his eyes hither and yon, taking in all the book titles. He had bought most of them himself to somehow keep up with the school's program. 'Basic geometry', 'Common language', 'Physics', 'Chemical Substances and Formulas', 'Geogra—

He pierced the title of the book with his eyes. Chemistry. Chemical Substances and Formulas. These words awoke a memory of something that ignited a weak light of hope in his soul.

I don't think that, at your rate, you'll be happy with tobacco alone, Sombra remembered Krystal's words.

Oh, how true, how very true, you pretty pony, but it's all for you, only for you.

Sombra quickly rushed out of his room, closed the door, set the magical locks and quickly left the house, making his way deeper into the slums. He had heard rumors at school, some colts were boasting about buying Dust in a special place.

Dust was exactly what he needed. Before going, he took a raincoat to hide his appearance; he didn't want his persona to be remembered in that sort of place. He had to do it as quickly as possible: go in, buy some, and go out.

It's all for you, Krystal, Only for you.

***

It smelled like trash and misery. Sombra quickly trotted through the dirty slums, ignoring anypony who would cast funny looks unto him.

Crystal ponies here were the definition of the bottom of the barrel. Most of them hadn't bathed in days; their manes were messy and greasy. The houses were small and made of cheap wood, just like Sombra's house, though with less style.

Jumping over a puddle of mud, he couldn't help but notice how lucky he was. Even the air here smelled like poverty, and if he would take a stray off to an alley, his life would end by a slice of a blade through his throat, no doubt. Ponies here looked grim, soulless, and unhappy.

They always stuck together in groups, talking with each other, occasionally lighting a cigarette, one for an entire group. He saw some mares with pink ribbons in their manes standing by the entrance to some building, looking at each other with swollen, empty eyes. By how one of them looked at Sombra when he passed by, there was no doubt about what their profession was.

"Hey, hoofsome, want to have a wonderful time?" the one with a scar on her cheek moaned at Sombra. The unicorn turned to face them, a look of disgust on his face.

Wonderful time, of course — because shoving your dick into a trashcan was clearly wonderful. Sombra demonstratively spat on the ground, showing the mare whither he thought she belonged, and continued on his way into this nightmare.

Sombra shuddered at the realization that he had lived in the slums as well. Thank goodness, his father had had enough brains not to buy a house in this part of the city. Children here probably didn't even know how a book looked like, spending all their time stealing and preparing for the life of crime and murder.

Something bit Sombra's conscience, but he suppressed it, drove away any thoughts of comparison between him and these lowlifes. He was, in no way, similar to them. He was an actual pony, he knew more than they did, he was in love with a noble mare and that put him above them.

This place was ugly, disgusting, and cringe-worthy. He wanted to retch just by looking at these buildings, the ponies that passed by, the soulless prostitutes who would sell their bodies to children if the price was acceptable. Decadence and filth: these words described this place pretty well.

Finally, he was standing before the entrance to a house. There was not a single window still intact; the door seemed to be hanging by a thread, with even the weakest tap of the hoof being able to break it down; and the sounds of screams, moans and loud laughter were coming out of this rundown hole, whicht Sombra was about to enter.

Gathering all his will to prevent himself from puking, he colted-up, took a deep breath and ventured onward.

The door was unlocked, he simply pushed it ajar.

The dusty air was filled with all kinds of disgusting stenches, varying from feces and urine to a clinging smell of a half-digested breakfast. The walls didn't have any sort cover on them, the curved, rusty nails sticking out freely. The floorboards squeaked loudly as Sombra walked, only barely recognizable in this cacophony of screams of pleasure and pain.

A big, menacingly looking pony approached Sombra and stood in his way, looking at the stallion with reproach.

"Where do you think you're going, boy? Can't you see it's adult's playground?" he sneered, his voice sounding gruff and smoky. Sombra stared angrily back at him.

"You can make these jokes to those who are actually interested in your blabbering. I'm here for business," Sombra growled back, whereto the giant just laughed.

"Business, eh? Came to buy something? Why didn't you say so?" he replied, his expression changing to relaxed. "Let's go, I'll escort you to the dealer. It's quite easy to get lost here."

Sombra didn't want to get lost in this place, so he followed the stallion's lead. This giant might just as well was lead him into a trap, but something inside Sombra's mind told him that he would be safe. He felt protected for some reason. Maybe it was because he was more than able to fight. Or maybe it was because he could easily zap anypony here with a bolt of dark energy.

As they passed through the corridors, Sombra couldn't help but feel guilty for what he was doing. Would he really be reduced to visiting this hole to buy a drug? What would Willemite say if she could find out?

Sombra covered his bitter smile. He wouldn't mind hearing a reproach from her, hear her shout at him. It would all be worth it just to hear her voice one more time. It would be worth it.

But he had to look after himself now and it was his decision. He wanted to make Krystal happy, satisfied with everything in her life.

The giant finally led him to a closed door and knocked three times thereon. A harsh voice thundered, "Who is it?"

The giant replied, "Costumers here." The sound of clicking metal reached Sombra's ears and the door quickly opened.

The room was, to Sombra's surprise, quite orderly. It was so strange to smell fruits and berries instead of the vomit inducing stench of the outside. There was a big table in the middle and a lonely earth pony, which lay on his back, on the sofa with his gaze to the ceiling.

Upon noticing Sombra, his face immediately brightened and he stood up straight.

"Hello, hello, and welcome, my dear, little friend!" he said in a friendly manner, extending his hoof to Sombra. He was sporting an appealing red coat and blue mane.

However, Sombra wasn't a trusting type, and instead of shaking his hoof, he just looked at the dealer.

"Oh, a serious one, aye? Good, good, I like that," he said, approaching the table.

"I need to buy Dust," Sombra said. "I mean... that what dust... does..."

"Relax, I know what Dust you mean," the dealer chuckled. "Your first time trying it, yes?"

"Y-yes," Sombra replied, looking at the earth pony. He wondered why he would be so far away from home, selling drugs to crystal ponies.

"First time is always magic. I think you'll love it," he reached under the table and pulled out a big bag, which had presumably lain thereunder. "Want to show off in front of your friends with spells? Or have problems with your marefriend?"

Sombra didn't feel too proud, but he had to answer something just to keep the look of a new costumer.

"The latter one, yes," he replied, prompting another giggle from the earth pony.

"Ha-ha, alright. After this, believe me, she won't need any other stallion besides you, my friend," he poured out a pile of sparkly Dust out of the small poach and onto the table. He gestured to the big pony, which was still standing in the door, and ordered him to help him out. While the giant was sorting the drug, the dealer turned to Sombra.

"You're gonna give her the plow of her life!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I remember my first time doing a mare with this stuff. Most exquisite, I have to tell you."

He gave his partner a bit of a look when he accidently dropped a small pile onto the floor.

"Be careful, you cretin! The Boss will not be happy if the product goes to waste!" he growled and turned back to Sombra.

"She screamed like a toy, oh my! That was unforgettable!"

Sombra looked away, whispering, "Yes, I certainly hope she will."

He really hoped she would.

Suddenly, with a loud, agonized scream, another pony burst into the room. He fell on the floor, painfully hitting its head against it, and landed just nearby the big pony.

"Aw, screw you! I have to lock the damn door!" the dealer cried and gestured to the giant. "Take this trash out of my office."

The mysterious stranger finally looked at the dealer and Sombra was highly shocked to see Sweet Tooth. He had changed so much, and not for the better. His eyes were swollen and constantly leaked tears. Several parts of his coat were burned and there was more than one scar on his wrists.

"Ah... ah! Wait, friend, please!" Sweet Tooth muttered, reeling from side to side. "I..Ah... Just need another dose, please! Have mercy on my poor soul!"

"I've been merciful to you three times already. Get out!"

Sombra stared at his ex-employer, or rather, what he had turned into: from a self-loving jerk to a complete wreck. Sombra felt sick as this thing crawled on its knees before the drug dealer, begging him for another dose.

He was a worm at Sombra's feet. And just four years ago, he used to be dependent on this trash. Suddenly, Sweet's swollen red eyes turned to him, when he finally saw the familiar outline of the dark unicorn. He squinted a bit, trying to figure out if he was real, or yet another hallucination.

"Sombra? Is that you?" Sweet Tooth babbled, crawling towards Sombra. "Is that really you?"

"You know this shitstain?" The dealer asked, pointing at Sweet Tooth. The dark unicorn looked into the tear-soaked eyes of his ex-employer, who knelt on the ground before him as if begging for something.

"No idea who this clown is," Sombra replied coldly.

"Please, Sombra, don't do this! This pony, he's evil! He'll drive you to sin with these drugs! He'll kill you!" Sweet Tooth started to beg. "Please, listen to me! He'll ruin your life. Don't let him! Don't let it happen to you too!"

Why would you care, Sweet Tooth? Sombra thought to himself. Why would you even care? You put me down and did nothing but insult me, but now, conscience has finally awoken inside you? Bullshit.

"Get this idiot out! He's scaring the costumer." With these words, Sweet Tooth got finally thrown out of the office and the big pony 'escorted' him downstairs, constantly delivering punches to his ribs.

Sombra didn't feel sorry. This idiot deserved it all. He should have been more respectful. Now, he had more important business.

"Since it's your first time here, I'll give you some extra dust for free," the dealer said, finally being done wrapping the drug in the small bags. "And when you come for another dose, tell me if she squealed when you had her like a toy!"

Sombra accepted the bags, throwing the needed amount of coins onto the table. When the dealer looked satisfied, he took his leave.

When he'd have her like a toy?... That sounded disturbing at one end, and yet tempting at the other.

No, he respected her! It would be completely different. The dust would just prolong the experience. These thoughts were just disgusting!

But, Krystal really seemed to him like she would enjoy being put down from her little heaven, playing a servant for a bit, being his, truly his... his pet, his slave!

He stopped for a second to get his mind in order. All these fumes in that shack were finally getting to him. He had to leave before he’d become completely mad. The very air in this place was driving him crazy. This place was cancer!

Sombra held the bags with the precious drug close to his heart on the whole way back home. Now, if opportunity would arise, he would show Krystal what he could truly do. She would not be disappointed.

Blood in your eyes

Author's Note

Sorry the update took so long. I hope you enjoy this one!

Blood in your eyes

The knocks on the door felt relieving to Krystal, enough for her to let out a loud and long sigh. What had taken him so long? She had been waiting for almost half an hour, putting the makeup on and washing it away, again and again, trying to come up with a perfect combination that would appeal to Sombra.

She had also cleaned up the house — herself! Caring about keeping her relationships with Sombra a secret from her parents, she ordered all the servants that worked in the giant mansion to take some days off without any penalty. They were more than happy and Krystal was left all alone with all the chores. Make up the beds, clean the floors, wash the dishes — all of this was not fit for her noble hooves, but it was a worthy sacrifice to make. She could endure the whole day of physical work if it meant getting what she wanted.

Besides, she was quite pleased with what she had done with the place. The floors were clean and tidy, the rug was fluffy and a bit spiny, and the portraits of her family were dusted off and shone due to a recent polish. Krystal was ready for him.

Why have I done it, she found herself asking yet again. Just for him? Because I love him? Yes, she answered to herself for the hundredth time. She wasn't herself after what happened in the garden and many doubts had crossed her mind since then. She had changed her view on the morals and the meaning of pleasure. Her body was still shuddering from the feelings she had experienced, even through the veil of the alcohol.

"I'm coming!" she cried happily and hurried up to open the door. Everything inside her was burning with eagerness and shame. She tried to fight this appetence, tried to suppress it, but couldn't. So, just a night before she invited Sombra, she completely succumbed to it.

"Just a few seconds... And there we go!" Krystal sung, opening the door.

Her happiness and joy over her coltfriend's arrival was quickly replaced by confusion and shock.

"The... stairs didn't seem that long. Well, at least the door’s open," Sombra said as his horn flickered, releasing a small bolt that almost singed Krystal's hoof.

"Wha- what the Abyss?" Krystal's eyes widened as she looked at Sombra, inspecting him.

Swollen eyes, horn, constantly flickering, increased activity, and—

"You're the Queen of Butterflies? You look nothing like a butterfly! Or a queen..."

—ravings. Yes, Krystal's suspicion was correct; Sombra was heavily intoxicated. Though this didn't seem like any alcohol intoxication Krystal had ever seen. This was something... entirely different.

"Sombra! What... what..." Krystal started choking from anger and frustration. He had lied to her! He really did for the first time!

"Woo-hoo," the stallion uttered something unpronounceable and started turning around in circles. He slowly and carefully put hoof behind hoof as if afraid to fall. "And there's more! Much less things that there was in the first place."

"What the..." Krystal muttered, still unable to process everything. She quickly closed the door behind Sombra, completely cutting him off from any chance of escape. "What the actual fuck?!"

That was the first swear word she had said for many years. She remembered the time she suddenly uttered a cuss word when she was about six years old. She had to stay in her room for over a month, only leaving when she had to go to school or visit a teacher. Now, her hooves were untied.

"Butterflies led me here. I can see one," Sombra stated lamely, pointing into thin air and slowly moving his hoof down until he was finally pointing at Krystal's right hoof. She tried moving it left and right and the stoned stallion followed her every move.

"I'm going to have to sedate you somehow." Krystal sighed. Sombra's horn flickered in resonance to her voice. "What the Abyss? You stupid idiot, why did you... Argh!"

"A butterfly," Sombra replied, continuing to point at her hoof. Krystal tried to face -hoof with it, but the second she raised her limb, Sombra dashed forwards and engulfed it with his mouth. He closed his eyes, and made strange movements with his tongue and lips as if he were sucking.

"Butrert...fly," the stallion muttered, gently scratching her skin with his teeth.

"You inept cretin!" Krystal growled, pushing him away. "How could you do this?!"

Everything inside her was boiling with fury and anger, her cheeks turned red, and she bared her teeth. In reply, Sombra started to sing some lullaby. Krystal couldn't make out the words; he was far too intoxicated to be understood.

"Sombra, I promise, when you get over this, I'll beat you so hard you'll never think about doing Dust ever again! Not even a thought will cross your brain, you hear me?" she boomed like a raging thunderstorm, her eyes wide open. "Do you know what might happen to you now? Do you know what side effects that drug has? Do you want to remain an addict for the rest of your life? Do you really want to die that badly?!"

She looked away when Sombra assumed an expression that seemed like he was missing a brain. He stuck out his tongue, bared his sharp teeth and tried to lick his nose, while concentrating his sight on the tip of his tongue.

"Do you have any self respect, or do I have to shove it into you every time? First tobacco, now this! I knew this wouldn't end well, I knew it! I should have acted earlier, harsher. We wouldn’t have to deal with this if I had!" She sighed loudly, letting her frustration out through her lungs. Her heart was pounding and she started to feel a little nauseous. She should sedate Sombra and go to bed.

And she expected a nice evening. Yeah, sure. With Sombra, you couldn't expect anything. He would always find a way to ruin your plans. Always.

"So, what do we do? Ugh, just let me fetch some ropes or something. That should work," Krystal said and turned away to make her way deeper into the house to find something wherewith she could bind Sombra lest he hurt himself.

Suddenly, she felt magical streams form around her and intensify. The room suddenly became darker; the curtains closed themselves; the candles on the candelabra turned dim.

"Where are you going?" Sombra pronounced clearly, as though he were completely lucid.

"What... What is the meaning of this? What is happening?" Krystal asked quietly, turning around slowly. She almost jumped when she saw Sombra's face. His eyes were wide open, filled with blood and his mouth was distorted in a wicked smile.

"I adore thee, fair maiden. Thy face is fairer than all the starts, and thus, I have come to claim thine innocence..." he mumbled, quoting Atris from "Runaway From Fate", smiling and reeling from side to side. His horn was engulfed by darkened energies, blocking off any escape route with powerful force fields.

He was quoting a scene of Atris' downfall, where he succumbed to his desires and fell into the trap of a beautiful mare, who turned out to be thief. Though, it seemed that, in this situation, it was Krystal who should be worried now.

Magic enhancements, of course! Sombra was using some powerful magic right now — more powerful than anything Krystal had ever used, at least. She backed away, not knowing what to do, where to go. She was completely at his mercy.

What kind of insanities and sick fantasies were going through Sombra’s mind? And how many were going were unleashed, triggered by the drug? Knowing Sombra and his special way of thinking, it filled Krystal's heart with horror at what he could do to her, unable to control himself.

"Sombra... wait just a second, please. Stop for a second and think about what you are doing. Just stop and think for a second!" Krystal tried to keep firm her voice, but it shook, trembled. Her face became pale with fear, and her hooves shook uncontrollably.

"Oh, no-no-no-no-no... I don't want any tea, thank you. Don’t hide your wings, Queen of Butterflies! Your disguise fools me not!" Sombra shouted in reply. These were his own now; she hadn't seen anything like this in the book.

"Sombra... Sombra, what are you do—" She couldn't finish her sentence as magical field wrapped her around the neck. It tightened up with every passing second, choking the mare as she fell to her knees.

"Krghh...khh..." she coughed, losing strength. Sombra approached her slowly, tightening the magical grip with every step he took.

"Unsatisfactory results, my dear. I'm not impressed, Queen — not at all. Big blue birds were right — you're not as powerful as the butterflies told me," he rambled, and, in no time, he towered over Krystal.

"Do you feel the chill running up your spine, my little slave? Oooh, I bet you do!" Sombra said, quietly, mysteriously, his blood-filled eyes looking straight into Krystal's soul. "Now, we shall stay alone in my cell, in the Third Circle of Abyss, in the grasp of the Dark Emperor. Can you imagine it? Breaking you over and over and over again shall bring me such pleasure!"

Suddenly, he turned around and made a scared expression.

"But mayhap this is not a right thing to do? Why would we imprison a queen and then vio...vio... ravage her kingdom? And her kin, too? Why kill them all, I ask? Why? Do you have an answer?" he mumbled in a weak, trembling voice somewhat similar to... Iron Wheel's.

Sombra turned back to Krystal, reverting back to his evil side.

"I like her. That's all the answers I need. Now, let me feast!" He growled the last words, baring his teeth. Krystal's horn lit up as she tried to fight back his dark magic.

"Do not even bother. It won't work. I know..." he said, when suddenly his grip became weaker. The dark flame, dancing at the tip of his horn became smaller, showing that he was weakened.

A light of hope lit up in Krystal's soul. She might have a chance, still. It seemed that the real Sombra was still fighting inside this monstrosity born by drugs. Krystal just had to fight back until the drug would wear off.

One final push and she was free of the bind that he had tied around her neck. The dark thread dissipated into the mist and Sombra growled from irritation.

"How dare you disobey your master?!" he boomed. "I shall punish you for that!"

Krystal quickly dashed to the right, avoiding him, and tried to reach the door, leading out of the entrance hall, but her escape was quickly prevented by a force field.

"I need to taste you!" Sombra roared at the top of his lungs so loudly Krystal felt pain in her ears. "Every breath you take, they all belong to me!"

He gazed at Krystal, madness dancing in his eyes, and rushed towards her, his horn aflame with dark magic. Saliva started dripping from his mouth, gathered on his lips; he looked like a rabid animal.

Krystal wanted to dodge, but he was faster. In a second, he had tackled her down and pinned to the ground. Several drops of his saliva fell on her cheeks as she struggled to get out.

Sombra pushed his forehooves on her chest and looked her in the eyes like a savage that was about to tear into his injured and bleeding prey. He grinned, lowering his muzzle to hers.

"Fold your wings, butterfly, or I shall tear them away," he whispered into her ear. "No need to fight back — I'm in complete control."

He licked her skin, from chest to cheek, slowly, playfully, enjoying every second of it. He tasted the scent, he felt the taste, and now, only a little drop of blood was needed to turn him from a savage into a perfect predator.

Krystal couldn't pronounce a thing, fear shackled her limbs and her voice. She wanted a scream, but there was nopony in the house except herself and Sombra. Her horn flickered when she tried to use magic and lift something heavy, aiming to knock her drugged coltfriend out, but the dark magic that siphoned the magical streams around her as Sombra continued to cast spells. It made her feel nauseous and weak and she couldn't cast anything.

"Keep still now! Just keep still and the cutting won't hurt!" Sombra gargled as if there was something in his throat before cackling maniacally. "Keep still! The best part is still ahead!"

The blood in his eyes started pouring out, probably his capillaries being unable to sustain the pressure of his pumping heart, which the drug had caused to beat at extreme levels. These tears of blood ran down his face, dropping down.

"Sombra... please... wake up!" Krystal uttered, hoping to get to the real Sombra inside this walking corpse, but he was deafened by the sound of his cackle.

He laughed again before he turned dead-serious. Before a small drop of blood could fall, he caught it with his tongue. Then, his horn lit up, and Krystal realized that something bad was about to happen. Something horrible. Something terrifying.

"Oh, and there it is!" Sombra shouted, levitating a small knife towards himself. "I've been looking for you everywhere! Didn't you know it's time for breakfast?!"

He caught the blade with his teeth and looked at Krystal. Her heart stopped and her face became pale-white. She couldn't move even a muscle, bound by fear of the unknown. What could this sick drug make him do? How could this get any worse?

"Let the feast begin!" Sombra growled and made a small cut on his right hoof. Then another cut just below it. The pain enthralled him as he continued to cut slowly, enjoying every moment.

As the drops of blood were falling onto Krystal, her fear changed. She somehow lost her fear of getting hurt and felt afraid for Sombra, who might hurt himself badly. He couldn't control himself. How long would it be before he’d cut an artery?

"Ouuch... lots of red, yes!" Sombra giggled like an idiot, watching his wounds bleed. "He-he-he-he".

His horn started getting dimmer and the heavy, dark influence in the magical streams lessened rapidly. Snatching this opportunity, Krystal used a simple levitation spell to wrap a vase in a bright field of energy.

"Let us get more re—"

"Hey, Sombra!" Sombra turned his attention from his woulds to her before he could cut once more. "Catch!"

The vase struck him right in the temple — and it did the job. He fell over, unconscious. The knife fell into a small puddle of blood on the floor, the red stains thereon a reminder of the horrors of the past minutes.

Krystal rose up, trying her best to swipe away the blood and saliva that had gotten onto her and sighed with a little bit of relief. Sombra was unconscious and the room brightened up once the chaotic magic that Sombra had oozed had dissipated entirely.

She looked around, looking for a blanket or some cloth. She needed to bandage his wound before he’d bleed to death as well as make a compress for his eyes to prevent him from losing his eyesight.

What a horrible evening. But it was over... at least for now.

"How are you feeling?" Krystal asked, squeezing a towel in the pelvis, filled with brew, made out of daisies and several other flowers. It had a distinct smell of freshly cut grass.

"It hurts, like, a lot," Sombra replied, slowly moving his healthy hoof towards the bandage on his face that covered its upper part. "It hurts a lot. Very much, I mean."

"The rambling still persist? No obsessive thoughts?" the mare said, approaching her unfortunate love. The towel dripped with the brew, filling the nostrils with its sharp and yet tasty smell.

"No, I'm not rambling... I'm not rambling," he repeated, running his hooves over the bandage. It was fulvous from blood, though some parts were still wet. "I just... feel a little cloudy. Everything seems so frail and fading... it's like nothing is real!"

"Alright... I think we're on the right track," Krystal said, sighing afterwards. "Could you help me a little? We need to change the bandage."

"Yes, of course," Sombra helped Krystal to slowly remove the bandage. It got stuck on his face quite hard since he lost quite a lot of blood because of bleeding of his eye, and he even had to bite his lip as the bandage came off suddenly.

"There we go!" Krystal said, trying not to look as Sombra's eyes were still a horrible mess. The only things normal about them were the pupils, while the white was completely filled with blood. Sombra blinked a few times, trying to clear away his sight from the red stains.

Krystal started carefully bandaging the wet towel around his face, while keeping a close look on his horn. Who knew, maybe the full effects of the drug hadn't kicked in still. While she was working, Sombra let out a long sigh.

"I know it sounds weird... But please, forgive me. I am stupid," he said. "I knew I shouldn't have used that drug, but I still did... And look what catastrophe has happened because of me!"

Krystal stopped for a moment.

She wanted to berate him for almost killing her, but a small thought flashed in her head: would he, when under the influence of drugs, try to kill her? Had he even been trying to kill her? He had had a perfect opportunity, he had towered right above her with a knife ready, and yet he had started cutting his hoof instead. Maybe it had been the effect of the drug — a temporary madness that made him do things beyond the logic of any living being. Or maybe he had managed to keep control at least in some way.

"Just a catastrophe?" she said bitterly. "Is that what it was to you?"

"What would you call it then?" Sombra suddenly replied. This answer surprised Krystal, leaving her breathless. She couldn't think of a way to retort. He was actually correct in his choice of words.

"I've done... a horrible mistake, Krystal. And I am not talking about the... use of the drug," he said, his voice trembled slightly. "I'm talking about... myself."

"What are you trying to say?" Krystal asked, still looking at him warily.

"I'm a colossal failure! I mean, I can't do anything right! I'm a complete loser when it comes to basic things. Even... erghm... you know... stuff," he said quietly, and Krystal looked at him questioningly.

"So, you took that drug for a reason? Clarify, please, what was so important to you to break the promise you gave to me?"

"Well, you see... I did for you... I thought you were dissatisfied with my performance... And I couldn't think of any other way to help myself. I'm... dammit!" he cussed, his cheeks blooming with blush. "I thought it would solve my personal... problems."

"Sombra," Krystal took a deep breath and gently rubbed his chest. "You can entrust your secret to me. I'm your pony, after all."

The encouragement calmed Sombra down and, after sighing, he spat it all out in the most evasive way possible.

"I view my abilities as a stallion to be not of the level high enough for you to enjoy. So I used the drug to enhance my abilities," he quickly muttered. Krystal gave him a long and questioning look. She clearly hadn't understood what he meant.

The staredown continued for a few minutes before a barely noticeable smile appeared on her face. A quiet giggle reached Sombra's ears before Krystal burst into laughter.

He ogled her with a look of misunderstanding. Krystal continued to laugh, tears filling her eyes, and she even felt pain in her stomach.

"What? Se-seriously? That's all?!" She laughed further. "It's... sad and funny... at the same time!"

Sombra could clearly see now: she was crying and laughing at the same time. She leaned on Sombra, hugging him, her body shaking and trembling from laughter. Feeling the guilt curling inside him like a ball, he gently responded in kind. Krystal's tears fell on his skin, and she burrowed her muzzle in his fur.

"You're an idiot. You're such an idiot," Krystal exclaimed. "Such. A. Fool!"

Slowly, Krystal started to calm down, though her shoulders still twitched a little.

"Sombra, such things are of no value to me. I love you regardless of whether you're a Kasanova or not. I love you anyway," she said, looking at him and touching his cheek, careful not to disturb the towel on his face. "But what you did has hurt me greatly, you know that? You broke a promise."

"I know, dear... But... may I have another chance, maybe?" he pleaded and she snuggled closer to him.

"Yes... But, remember: if you think you have issues, you should talk to me first! Do not attempt to solve anything on your own. You're very bad at that," she stated. "Now, for your own protection, I decree you have no privacy from now on. If you think you have problems concerning anything, you talk to me. Got it?"

"Ehm... is that really necessary?" Sombra wondered, and, after receiving a harsh poke in the belly, he quickly nodded. "Okay, okay. As you say."

After he agreed, Krystal gave him a gentle and loving kiss on the lips.

"You're forgiven, for now," Krystal said, relieving his soul of the burden of the guilt. "But if this happens again..."

"It won't, Krystal. My mother be my witness," Sombra swore, and Krystal closed her eyes, knowing that he would keep his word. He would never mention his mother if he wasn't serious.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you," Sombra said, hugging his Krystal harder and thanking her for giving him another chance. He just hoped he would not waste it.

"Get well as soon as you can. We have a whole week ahead of us."

A whole week! This was phenomenal. Sombra got to spend a whole week with her. What more he could dream of?

Treachery

Tick-tock... Tick-tock...

The big grandfather clock was ticking in the corridor just down the way following the fuzzy red rug. Several big scratches were visible on the side of this majestic structure, which had overwatched the halls for many years.

Tick-tock... Tick-tock...

This clock greeted Lazarus and Celene since they had ordered the house to be constructed. It watched them walk these halls for so many times. It watched them as they amassed fortune and became well-known and respected.

Tick-tock.... Tick-tock...

It saw the birth of Krystal. Well, heard her birth. Krystal's mother refused to go to a hospital, thus the great mansion became Krystal's maternity hospital. The labor pains had been horrible and Celene had screamed loudly, her cries echoing throughout the long corridors, forcing her husband to cover his head with a pillow and levitate a flacon of sedatives to himself. He had been more than worried; he had been terrified and excited at the same time.

Tick-tock... Tick-tock...

This clock had seen Krystal run around the house, playing hide-and-seek with her nannies, her dolls, her parents. Dad's guests had never wanted to play with her for some reason. She would always frown and puff up if refused to play with. Celene commented that Krystal looked like a balloon when she was angry; her warm, colorful cheeks and paunchy stomach suited her just well.

Tick-tock... Tick-to—

The ticking stopped when Krystal's horn glowed brightly and she put the mechanism on a temporary hiatus.

"Finally... It started getting on my nerves," Sombra stated, rubbing his forehead. Of course it would. He had to endure it for the whole week. At times, after an exhausting night, the ticking would wake him up in the most foulest of moods.

"And I'm pretty tired of you wandering around my room at night," Krystal touched the grandfather's clock. "You could just relax and stay on the bed."

"Whenever I can't sleep, I usually do something: read a book, throw the book into the wall... write something offensive on the wall..." Sombra replied, remembering the time he had snuck out of his house at night to draw an aerowaffle near the entrance to the school. Granted, drawing genitals on the walls was all he could do.

"I want to do something if I'm not asleep! You're asleep, there are no interesting books on your bookshelves — what am I supposed to do?"

"Just lay down and listen to my snoring. I thought you enjoyed listening to me when I sleep," she said, making Sombra blush.

"Yes, I do. It puts me at peace, especially after all the screaming... No, seriously, you hurt my ears at times," he said and trotted away into the general direction of the kitchen. "I'll go make myself a sandwich. Do you want one?"

"No, thank you... I feel a bit weird," Krystal replied and sighed. "You know, you shouldn't stick around for far too long. Don't get me wrong..." she snuggled to him, "I enjoyed this week with you tremendously... but we did leave behind a big mess, which I'll have to clean up."

"I'll help you. I see no problem with that."

"No, thanks. I can handle it myself, don't worry," Krystal assured. "I know how you hate cleaning up. I guess... we're going to have to say our goodbyes — after you have that sandwich. My servants return to work today, I think."

She trotted away slowly, sighing heavily.

"We both missed so many lessons... But, for me, it was worth it. I guess, you were sort of right when you said it's good to break the rules. I agree with you... a bit.."

Sombra sneered at that remark. He never said breaking rules were good. Well, maybe he did, but his wording would be different.

"Well, then, I shall take my leave," he said, looking towards the path to the exit.

Krystal nudged him playfully and showed him to the exit. Sombra winked at her suggestively before he left the big, comfortable mansion that he’d come to adore. He would never imagine that the menacingly huge building would grow on his like that.

This week... Those whole week! These seven days! He would never forget them. Never. Even though the first two were spent treating to Krystal's wounds, she finally felt better, and then started to treat Sombra's wound — the one he had caused to himself. Through those two days, he had constantly asked forgiveness and would not shut up about it until Krystal 'convinced' him that she held no grudge against him.

The weather was perfect today as Sombra was making his way home. Even though he didn't want to see Amethyst's drunk snoot, he figured the company of his books was better than anything school had to offer. He didn't want to see Iron Wheel either, who would probably start bugging him about where he’d been all this week and asking for help yet again.

Anything school-related made Sombra cringe right now. He didn't want to even think about it, not even a thought had to cross his mind. He needed to fill it with something happy. So, he started dreaming of an asleep Krystal as he walked.

It might seem weird, but he was really attracted to how she was sleeping. It was so weird — she’d push a deep dimple in the pillow and use her own mane as additional blanket. The real blanket, she would wrap around her body like a cocoon with only her forehooves sticking out. When alone, she would fold them at her chest and sleep like that, but with Sombra, she slept a bit differently: she wrapped him in her embrace, put her snout close to his ear snuffle quietly. Maybe because she had chronic rhinitis, or maybe because she knew Sombra enjoyed these gentle, quiet sounds.

Finally, Sombra saw the outlines of his house. He took a deep breath and charged himself with happy memories. Now, he'd just go to his room, grab a book, fall down into his bed and read something about dark magic or something entertaining.

***

"Some more tea, my mistress?" the servant asked, tilting the kettle, warm fumes slowly drifting from its nose.

"Yes, please. And with sugar," Krystal replied, rubbing her forehead. The servant quickly poured her a full cup and dropped two lumps of sugar. He bowed before leaving, but suddenly stopped at the door.

"Do you wish me to take the book away, my mistress?" he asked in a polite voice. "You don't seem to be reading it anymore."

"No. There are still a few pages I would like to read," Krystal cut him short, levitating the biology encyclopedia to herself and gently landing it on her belly. She had been lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling for about an hour now. It seemed like, if she just asked for forgiveness from the skies, it would grant her redemption. But it didn't seem to come.

Krystal noticed that something was wrong with her, something wrong with her body. Just two months ago, she consulted her own 'mare calendar'. She had made it herself when she was but a filly, with the help of her mother. It was supposed to help Krystal handle her mare's issues — to navigate through the periods of menstruation to avoid any trouble.

It clearly pinpointed the days it was going to happen. Krystal was always ready... but this time, it hadn’t happened. Then, again, the second month! Krystal suspected something bad might have happened to her. She might be sick, or something worse.

In a desperate search of answers, she read almost the entirety of her parents' library on biology, but only now, she had found the right book. The cover stated: Equine Biology: A Brief Introduction. The book didn't have a lot of pictures, for anatomy was mostly studied during wars, when the doctors had a chance to perform autopsies on the dead soldiers, so most of the facts were based on common knowledge.

Krystal covered her face and sobbed quietly, finally letting the emotions pour out. Her tears sparkled in the lamp’s light before landing on the warm, puffy blanket, wherefrom they quickly were absorbed. She cried because of sadness and happiness, of sorts. For many mares, especially married ones, it would be great news. But for her, a young mare, still thought an innocent, pure filly by her parents, a pony, who succumbed to the darker side of love, these were news that would proclaim her doom.

Krystal looked at her calendar, then at the book and burst into tears, her sobbing shaking her body violently

She became a vessel of life. A vessel of light. A pony, who must be a saint.

She was carrying a child in her womb. She was to become a mother.

"Why, by the Emperor, why?!" she sobbed, trying to hold back her tears to no avail. "I didn't want to... I don't want to..."

Why did it have to happen to her? Why, of all ponies, did she have to become pregnant? Why didn't fate spare her?

She turned around on her bed and buried her wet muzzle into the pillow. Some of her tears got into her mouth, bringing with them a salty taste. She wrapped her body in her puffy blanket and carefully, in order not to alert the servants, cried. She felt so fragile, so unprotected right now. What a disaster, what a catastrophe. Her life was ending.

She yearned for Sombra right now. For him to come near her, kiss her on the cheek and warmly hug her. Not mother, not father, but Sombra. Krystal knew that she could only trust him. He would do something for her that nopony else would. His warmth and his care was all she desired right now.

She wanted to share this with him. He was, after all, the one who sired the child, the cause of all Krystal's worries.

What should she do? She couldn't bear the child — her status didn't allow that. She was a noble mare, and noble mare was to lose her virginity during honeymoon. It would be crystal clear that she lost her innocence when she approached her parents with a huge belly, wherein it was protected while its mother suffered.

Krystal got up from her bed and took a walk around her room. She had a few ideas, actually. There were rumors that the Unicorn Kingdom had adapted a new law about 'abortions'. Those were special spells that could prevent the childbirth on its early stages. After a short surgery, she would be free of the fetus, which, even now, just two months later, was burdening her.

But how was she supposed to get to the Unicorn Kingdom without her parents finding out? Just how?

There might be another solution. A unicorn from the hospital might agree to perform such an operation for good money, but Krystal was scared: what if something would go wrong? What if she’d die? What if...

It was horrifying to even think. Krystal took a deep breath, levitated the cup of tea to herself and drank. The warm, sweet tea soothed her throat and soul, and she felt a little better.

"Everything will be alright... Everything will be alright," she whispered to herself, when she suddenly felt a sudden heaviness in her head.

She needed some sleep. A quick nap, and then, after she’d wake up, she would figure out what to do. She had to save her life, and she needed to do it quickly. But for now, she needed rest. Before falling into her bed, she peeked into the mirror; her pale cheeks and muddy eyes were a clear indication of insomnia. It was no wonder, though. Ever since she and Sombra had spent that week together, she had trouble sleeping alone in her bed without his cuddling.

Now, that whole week of pure pleasure brought its results. The creation started to get its revenge on Krystal for falling so low as to give her body and soul to a commoner, for abandoning traditions and giving up to love.

Could she change anything now? Could she, somehow, save herself? Probably not. There was only one way to ensure that her life remained unchanged: killing the child.

After a long period of heavy thoughts, Krystal finally cried herself to sleep. She thought of the ways and the means of getting rid of the child, and she hoped she could do it fast. She needed it gone. It had no place in her life. It was unneeded.

***

This smell... It smelled of... burning, death, despair, agony.

The world around Krystal shook and trembled, she felt something painfully prickling her to the top of the head. Her horn was hitting something as well, something crunchy and sturdy.

Krystal didn't want to wake up, thus she just tried to wind the blanket around her frail body, but another violent jolt made her slid up, painfully hitting her head on something.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, opening her eyes.

"Oh, by Abyss, not again," an annoyed female voice reached her ears. "Why do you have to wake up again?"

Krystal's blood stood still in her veins. She knew that voice. She had known it her entire life, because it was hers. Krystal's voice. Opening her eyes revealed the walls, made out of wicker elm and many thorns, even the place where she was lying. She quickly turned around, looked up and saw the sky, red like blood, with clouds, which were darker than the very night. The air smelled of death, decay and blood.

"Where... am I? What is going on? Please, answer me!" she shouted as another jolt made her ram her head into the thorny side. "Aaah!"

The prickle tasted her blood and the young mare felt her left temple bleeding. She once again turned to the sky, realizing with horror where she was.

The strange container she found herself in was a cradle. A cradle, made out of thorny material she couldn't even recognize.

"Just shut up! Shut up!" her voice sounded like thunder and a darkened face, hidden by shadows, leaned towards the scared mare. "You disgusting spawn!"

Krystal could not believe these words were sounding like they were coming out of her mouth. This voice... it was completely identical. An exact copy.

A weak cone of light shone upon the dark speaker, finally revealing her true identity. As much as it seemed impossible, Krystal was looking at her own face, distorted by anger and hatred.

"You piece of filth! Why have I been cursed with you?" the other Krystal shouted, baring her teeth.

"Wha... What is happening? Who are you?" Krystal asked, her heart clenched by fear. She couldn't understand what was happening, she didn't know what to do. All she got in response was spit to the face.

"Stop screaming already!" Other-Krystal growled, making the mare in the cradle feel tiny... unnoticeable, weak, defenseless.

"Wh-why? What did I ever do to you?" she whispered. "Why did you do this?"

Krystal was alone, trapped in this cage of thorns. She was nothing but a child at the mercy of her twisted self. Tears filled her eyes and started streaming down her cheeks.

"S-Sombra... Please... Help... me," the mare whispered, lost and confused, calling for her protector. It wasn't her mother, nor her father. It was Sombra, and Sombra alone, whom she trusted so much.

"Sombra.. Help me... I need you... Please..." she cried, trying to hide herself from her darkness behind a weak, thin blanket.

The strange mare which looked exactly like herself, didn't hear her words but only screams and cries as if Krystal was a baby filly. She couldn't understand her language, even though Krystal was speaking perfect Crystallian. She tried Common, Unicornian... but nothing helped. The other Krystal continued shouting at her, swearing and constantly shaking the cradle.

Finally, the shaking stopped and the mare stood still, the wind making her cloak sway. A small single tear ran down her cheek and fell down into the cradle.

"I don't need you... You're worthless... I don't need you," the other Krystal uttered, lifting the cradle up into the air. "You are not needed... not needed."

Krystal was scared, she didn't know what to do, how to act. She could scream, but all it would do was annoy the twisted version of herself. Krystal cried silently and bitterly, praying for Sombra to come and save her.

"I do not need you. Begone from my life!" Krystal heard these words that cut like knife, but her thoughts were silenced by the blowing wind and the sudden sound of raging water underneath.

"No...No! Don't do it! It doesn't have to be this way!" Krystal screamed as hard as she could as the other Krystal levitated the cradle further and further away.

"Goodbye..." she finally said, and then there was nothing but the whistling of the wind. As Krystal fell down in her small coffin of thorns, she realized what was it like to have her life depend on somepony else. Somepony that was unreliable, untrustworthy, pathetic and weak, too weak to handle the responsibility.

"Mother!" Such words burst out of Krystal's mouth as her cradle finally drowned in the raging river. The water quickly filled the lungs of the young mare, and, while she suffocated, she remembered every moment of her short life: her birth and... nothing else.

***

"Mother!" Krystal woke up screaming, her muzzle wet from tears. Her scream echoed throughout the corridors of her house, and soon, loud clopping could be heard. Before Krystal could wipe away her tears, a servant burst into the room.

"My mistress, what's wrong? You were screaming," he said, coming closer to the young mare. He stood for a second before he noticed that she was crying, and then slowly approached her.

Seeing that there was no point in hiding anymore, Krystal just burst into tears, slamming her head into the wet pillow. Just a few moments later, she felt the servant's soft touch on her head.

"It's okay, my mistress. ‘Twas just a nightmare," his voice was comforting and calm. "I'm here. No need to be afraid now."

How disgusting. This pony was caring for her and Krystal didn't even bother to learn his name. She hated herself... so much. She was a horrible pony.

Instead of replying, Krystal cried violently, the salty tastes of tears seeping into her mouth.

"Please, mistress, don't torment yourself so," the servant said, hesitated a bit, gathering his courage, and then kissed her on the forehead.

There was no passion in the kiss. It was a simple show of compassion, like a mother would show to her daughter, or a father to a son.

"Tsssh... It's okay, little Krystal. Don't cry," he cooed, and Krystal felt a little bit better. He wrapped his hooves around her in a warm hug and she felt warm and relaxed.

"There you go," he said. "Please, mistress, don't scare me like that anymore. I almost had a heart attack."

"I'm sorry... sorry for everything," Krystal replied. "I'm... such a horrible pony."

"What? No! That's rubbish."

"I am. I... broke the sacred law of nobles... and I can't even remember your name when you care for me so deeply," Krystal whispered quietly. "Please... leave me be with my thoughts... I need to think."

The servant stuttered for a bit, not knowing what to say. He felt a little offended that, after many years, the mistress couldn't remember his name. However, he stayed and hugged Krystal even harder.

"I won't leave you. I won't leave until I know you're alright," the pony said. He snuggled closer to her, burrowing his muzzle in her mane.

Krystal started to feel a little awkward, wondering if this stallion had any feelings for her, maybe even desires.

"Umm..." the sole sound was enough to make the servant giggle.

"Don't worry, mistress. I have a wife, and a child. And if you were thinking what I think you were, you're wrong," he calmed her. "I'm just trying to comfort you, that's all. My young daughter tends to cry very often, so, the best way to calm her down is a little cuddle. I thought it might work with you too."

Krystal smiled at such show of care and closed her eyes. The remains of the nightmare were fading away from her memory, but she had forever learned the lesson it tried to teach her.

She wouldn't be the other Krystal. Even if the child was not needed, he or she was still wanted. She closed her eyes, not knowing what to do, but knowing what she wouldn't do, which would be getting rid of the child.

"Please... stay with me till I fall asleep. I still don't feel too well," Krystal whispered. The servant replied with a gentle nod and let her go.

"I'll sit here and watch over you. I think no more hugs are necessary,” he observed, and Krystal agreed. She made herself comfortable in her bed, and only one thought tormented her now:

What would Sombra say to this?

***

"And you know what? — I didn't even care! She may think anything she wants, I don't care. I don't think she loves me at all, that broad!" Iron Wheel kept talking while Sombra wearily rubbed his temples. Ever since Iron Wheel gathered enough courage to approach a mare, he would not shut up about his misadventures. Sombra had quickly become a dumpster for his stupid stories.

"Why did I even..." Sombra moaned with pain, trying to drive away the horrendous headache, probably caused by the lack of sleep. He spent days reading books, or walking outside.

Usually around midnight, he would sneak out of his house and wander around Crystal City for no reason whatsoever. He wasn't scared of anypony, but his soul longed for big open spaces and being locked in his room was unacceptable.

It seemed that his midnight walks had finally taken a toll on him. Or was it the alcohol he and Krystal had drunk? Whenever Sombra passed a tavern, he couldn't help but shudder at the slight aroma of the wine. Was he addicted now, too? Likely not since Sombra could easily ignore the smell and walk on.

Sadly, he couldn’t easily ignore Iron Wheel’s babbling. He would not shut up. Sombra now regretted the decision of becoming nicer to him.

"Iron, please, shut up. My head’s aching from all your stupid trash talk," Sombra stated angrily, continuing to rub his temples. This seemed to work and Iron Wheel turned quiet. Good thing he hadn't lost his fear of Sombra yet; he'd make sure that fear would persist.

The noise of the cafeteria was something everypony had gotten used to ages ago. Sombra looked at his table, filled with empty dishes, and sighed. He should go now: Krystal had told him she had something important to tell. Maybe she could cheer him up as well.

"I have to go. Don't wait for me here — I'll be gone for a long time," Sombra told Iron Wheel. The pony nodded quietly and Sombra went off to meet his love.

Over two months had passed since that incredible week. Even now, Sombra still couldn't forget it as it kept his dreams focused solely on Krystal. He would never forget how beautiful and attractive she was when a little drunk.

Though, these days, something was happening to her; she’d become quiet and reclusive, left school quite often, and seemed to have stopped caring about her figure. Not that Sombra minded — he found a little bit extra flesh around her sides a benefit.

Finally, he noticed his love, which was leaning on a wall, looking around nervously. Sombra quickly approached her, but, before he could greet her, she gently put her hoof on his lips and whispered a quiet 'tssh'.

"Not here. We'll talk outside. I have something very important to tell you," she said and Sombra followed her silently. A little fire of worry was born in his soul, but he quickly put it out — nothing was wrong. His Krystal had simply fondled the box of chocolates a little too much. Perhaps he should visit her soon. They could share the chocolate.

To his surprise, they didn't just go outside, Krystal lead him to the park. Sombra was pleased, for they were practically cutting school right now. He didn't mind at all.

The trees were swaying back and forth, the wind was whistling, carrying warmth and the breath of the upcoming summer. Sombra enjoyed the view all the way before Krystal finally stopped, walked to a tree and sat down thereunder. The stallion quickly joined her.

"Well, we're outside. Anything you want to tell me, sugar?" Sombra asked, and Krystal sighed in reply. Before she could say anything, Sombra locked her in a passionate kiss. She closed her eyes and wrapped her hooves around him.

"Sorry, didn't hear you. Come again?" he joked, touching her warm belly.

"Sombra... I don't really know how to tell you... But it's something serious, something that you shouldn't joke about."

"What's that? You're in love with chocolate?" Sombra joked again, giving her belly a gentle rub. "I'm alright with that. I like your belly a lot — and I wish I could sleep on it."

He lowered his head and poked her stomach with his muzzle, feeling her short fur tickle his nose.

"So soft and warm," he whispered, smiling. Suddenly, Krystal wrapped his head in magical aura and forcefully pulled it up.

"Sombra, stop this! Stop being such a jerk and let me speak!" she almost shouted, her eyes filling with water. Sombra suddenly felt hurt and offended.

"Kryssie... what's wrong?"

"Sorry... I didn't want to shout. I've just been... on edge for the past couple of months," she said, letting him go. "I've been thinking... about you and me... And I wanted to ask: do you really love me?"

The light around faded a little as Sombra noticed that a big patch of clouds was gathering in the sky. He ignored this upcoming rain and took a deep breath.

"What question is that? Of co—" before he could say anything, Krystal shoved her hoof into his mouth.

"Don't answer. I know what you'll say," she uttered. "Sombra, there is a time when we have to take responsibility for what we do. You and I did... questionable things."

"Oh, come on, stop being so innocent!" Sombra exclaimed, gently removing her hoof from his mouth. "I liked you when you dropped your morals. Come on, Kryssie, stop it."

He touched her cheek and then gave her a long and lusty, passionate kiss, just like he’d gotten used to. No more kids' stuff. They were both adults now.

"Be a bad girl for me," he whispered, but she gently pushed him away.

"Sombra, we... I’ve been wrong when I invited you over to my house. And it wasn't because of the Dust, no... What we did... We thought ourselves above the nature and we did everything we wanted. We gave in to our desires. Now, we're paying the price," she suddenly turned dark and pale. "I'm pregnant, Sombra."

The sound of a distant thunder shook the stale warm air.

"What?"

"I'm carrying a child... your child."

"But... how?"

"Don't pretend you don't understand. You know exactly how," Krystal whispered.

Sombra backed away from her and sat down on the ground. He felt like he had just been doused in ice-cold water. A child? His child?

His mouth was dry, his throat hurt and he couldn't utter even a word. The fire of worry became an inferno. He had expected anything... but not this.

Krystal sat down by him and lowered her head. The rays of the sun made little gems on her cheeks sparkle, betraying her. She swiped away the tears and remained silent, letting Sombra gather his thoughts.

He couldn't imagine himself as a father. What was being a father like? — Responsibility, a great amount of time, forgetting your own needs for the needs of the child.

That would mean he would have to abandon his magic studies, his free life, his freedom, his fool-friend Iron Wheel, and everything to care for the child. He would need to spend all the money, all his strength to appease the kid.

Sombra never thought about becoming a parent, and he had never even considered a possibility of it. But it snuck from behind and attacked when he least expected it, when he was having the biggest amount of fun. Would he really abandon all of it?

“Krystal, I... I mean... we can't be parents right now," he started speaking. "We can't afford it. We're too young yet, we don't even live together. I don't have a house for us to live in; I don't have the money to support us."

He staggered for a second.

"Have you thought... getting rid of it?"

"I have. And I won't do it," Krystal cut his hopes into pieces with just a few words.

"Wh-Why? It's too early, and if you get rid of it right now, we can have all the time in the world so we can settle down and live together. Now's not the time," Sombra tried his hardest to convince his beloved. "We need more time, Krystal. We can't have a child right now!"

"I won't kill my child," she said strictly. "I won't be a murderer. Don't try to convince me."

"It's not even born yet, how is this murder?" Sombra snapped, losing his temper. Why was Krystal so protective of the child? It was endangering them both! Why couldn't she understand that?

"It is murder. Even if the child isn't born, it's still a life," Krystal said. "Would you go so far to kill a life that cannot even defend itself?"

"This is different! Our lives are at stake!" He turned to her, his face turning red from anger and annoyance. "Listen to me: we need to get rid of it. It would be better for us both."

Krystal looked at him, her cheeks turning pale from shock.

"How could you say such a thing? It's your child as well, your son or daughter! Are you going to just kill him or her so you can run freely once more?" she cried, but her eyes, though wet, didn't water.

Sombra closed his eyes and thought. Anger, annoyance, and frustration rose inside him at the thought of being tied down. He couldn't accept being bound. He wanted to be free. He was done being a slave. He had freed himself from his father, from his school, from his past, just to be bound by a child? No. He wouldn’t let it be for nought.

"If need be, then yes!" he replied angrily. "Why should we sacrifice our youth to a mistake? A simple coincidence? Our lives cost much, Krystal, and I'm not going to throw mine away so easily."

He looked at her, seeing her horrified expression and eyes full of fear. He looked at her in the same way he would look at an enemy, at a foe.

"If you want to throw your life away for something that can be easily corrected..." He shuddered, his heart clenched in tight claws of sadness. "Then... I shall leave. Forever."

Krystal looked at him with disbelief; she couldn't understand why he would say such things. She didn't recognize him.

"This isn't you... This isn't the Sombra I have kissed near my house... You aren't Sombra whom I trusted and loved. You're cruel... you're cold," she whispered, loud enough for Sombra to hear. "A mistake? Your own flesh and blood, a mistake?"

"I call a pony related to me a mistake. The child wouldn't be the first," Sombra said coldly. "Choose now. Go with me, and together, we shall get rid of this child, for our happy life... or stay... alone."

The thunder rocketed through the air again and small drops of rain fell down on the ground. The sun disappeared behind thick, black clouds.

Sombra was looking at his love with hope. He prayed inside of him that she would agree and come with him. He wanted to be with her, and this obstacle would not stop them. Love will always find a way, he thought. Now, she was about to stand up, smile and go with him to a better future. He knew she would join him.

Krystal looked at Sombra, her heart shattered and her soul ached. She could not believe her own ears; she couldn't see Sombra behind the mask of a ruthless thug.

"I shan't go," she said, touching her belly.

Sombra's eyes widened and turned as pale as salt. These words cut into his ears like knives and grabbed his heart like pincers. And now, Krystal delivered the final blow, crushing his heart into a bleeding mess.

He thought she was loyal. But did she really choose an unborn mistake over him?

Sombra closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm inside his soul. The rain was getting stronger and stronger, and as he stood there, it turned into a downpour.

"Goodbye," he whispered quietly.

"Goodbye," she whispered quietly.

Sombra turned around and walked away, each step emitting the sound that was tearing his heart to pieces. With each step of his hooves, he was losing faith into the good in this world. With each step, he was losing hope that everything could still be better.

"Goodbye," Sombra whispered to himself, leaving the love of his life behind under the tree. The rain intensified and thunder was shaking the ground scarily often. The wind blew, bending the trees to its rage.

Now, there was no more 'we'. It was over. All over.

The cold and horrible truth pierced Sombra. It was all over. Their love, their dreams, their life — it was all over, crossed out with a red pencil wherewith he used to draw pictures onto the desks in school. Crushed into dust and thrown into a hurricane.

He couldn't believe it; he and Krystal, the followers of true love, who both trusted their heart and promised each other to be together forever...

Now, they were nothing but strangers to each other. Not even friends, and maybe... even enemies. They would never look upon each other with tender and care and would never talk to each other... not after this.

"Krystal..." Sombra whispered to himself, feeling something in his eyes that he thought he’d left behind forever. A small tear ran down his face, hidden by the rain.

He left the park, his happiness, his hopes, his dreams and his love. He was all alone... again.

He didn't go to school, instead going straight back home. He still couldn't believe everything that had happened and prayed for it to be a dream, a long, horrible and perverted nightmare. He thought that, if he had just went to sleep now, it would all just disappear, and in the morning, he would wake up, knowing that Krystal was waiting for him somewhere. He would get up, go meet her and hug her hard, harder than any other time. He would hug her and say: I've had such a horrible nightmare, dear. You won't believe it.

***

He’d left.

He’d just left.

Krystal looked at her hooves, then her big round belly, as drops of rain fell onto her, leaving wet trails. Her mane slowly turned wet, her sweet, beautiful curls straightening up, and the light of her crystal coat turned dimmer.

He’d just left her behind.

He’d left her alone with the child.

Krystal could not believe any of this. She knew he would react badly but... She didn't know that the effects could be so catastrophic. She always thought Sombra's darker side would disappear on its own accord, or at least avoid her in any way, shape, or form. She thought she was safe around him.

Now, she was just unneeded.

"You... little..." she whispered, looking at her stomach. Her voice was trembling, filled with sadness and pain, and the drops were now too hard to differ from tears. "I hate you... so much."

The child had caused her pain yet again, separating her and her love once again. She knew this wasn't him. He wasn't like this. But... it was all clear as day.

Sombra was cruel, cold, harsh. He loved her whenever it was comfortable for him. These thoughts plagued her mind and tortured her soul with the painful realization that she had loved the wrong stallion.

She got up on her hooves, the rain covering her, turning her into a weak, pathetic filly she always was and would be — wet, weak and defenceless, without her parents to back her up and support her.

But... if they knew... would they support her? Or... would they leave her as well?

Or maybe...

Maybe she’d been alone from the very start.

Krystal made her way home, darkness clouding her sight and heart. She didn't cry, only hiccupped from time to time. She walked home where, a few months later, her retribution and punishment would find her at last.

However... deep inside her scarred soul... she felt a little fire burning, a little fire of hope.

He loved her. She knew that. No matter what he said, she knew he loved her. And she awaited him.

Krystal walked home, this little fire burning weakly in her soul, unnoticed by the poor girl, who was far too preoccupied with holding back tears of grief. She didn't know how to live on.

Another tear fell down into the quickly formed puddle of water. But how would anypony notice it in such a downpour. Thank the gods for the rain.

Matvey's Prize

"Are you sure you're alright?" Iron Wheel asked, looking at his friend. Sombra didn't even look at him, opting to remain silent instead. Before the idiot could say something else, Sombra nudged him slightly and gestured for him to stay quiet.

"Oh, well, whatever... You just don't look that good," Iron stated and focused his attention on the street before him. He still needed to pick a target worthy of being mugged.

They were adults now, so the trick with the lost foal didn't work anymore. They had to rely on their strength, speed and agility instead. Now, it was a straight run and grab. Since Iron Wheel was smaller than Sombra, he was usually the one who would snatch the purse and run. Sombra kept watch for any pursuers.

Iron Wheel looked at his friend once more and paled before the change that had happened to him since the end of spring. He used to be much livelier. Now he just stood, a silent mountain, without dropping a word. His eyes were swollen and had circles thereunder; he had had little to no sleep, clearly. His liveliness, his aggression — all of it was gone, swept away by something, leaving only void behind.

"That broad," Sombra pointed at a mare, though, he wasn’t looking at her, but her purse instead. "Come on, quick!"

Iron Wheel dashed to the mare, still consumed by his inner thoughts. Sombra's sudden change had something to do with his break-up with Krystal.

It wasn't that hard to figure out. He could always see them meet each other, or at least exchange a smile or two. Now, they seemed to completely ignore each other, as though they had never even met. Sombra had stopped inviting him for the morning jogs with her, as he had stopped approaching her; they ceased all interaction between each other.

What could possibly drive apart such a strong couple? Iron Wheel was scared to imagine. Probably some divine force.

Before the mare could even react, Iron Wheel put his hoof through the strap and pulled as hard as he could. Just as always, it snapped, and the bag was his now.

"Help! Thief!" the mare screamed, but it was far too late, Iron Wheel hoofed it as quickly as he could. Little did he know that luck was about to turn away from the young thieves.

"Stop right there!" a guard, which was seen so rarely in these parts of the city, usually keeping to their safe, warm and rich quarters, shouted, and quickly followed Iron Wheel. His armour was rattling like a beast that barked and the colt's eyes shrank to the size of a peanut.

In a moment's notice, he struck the ground and rushed forward as if he was running from a hungry dragon bent on peeling the flesh off his bones. Though, by the amount of clopping he heard from behind, his comparison wasn't too far from the truth.

Iron Wheel suddenly changed directions, dashing left into an alley. The guard, even though surely encumbered by his armor, dashed just as quickly, never falling behind. He was determined to catch the thief and appeal to the mare as well as accomplishing his duty.

"Stop, you thief! You can't run away!" the guard shouted and Iron Wheel gulped as he ran.

Where is Sombra? He's supposed to help me by now by putting up a magic barrier or push the guard away. At least something to prevent me from getting caught!

"You won't break the law on my wat—" he managed to say before Sombra smacked him on the back of the head with a brick. The loud clacking sound pierced the air and Iron Wheel's ears as the guard plummeted down into the ground, digging his face into a muddy puddle.

Sombra appeared from behind a pile of rubbish, his horn aflame with energies, holding the brick afloat. The instant the light disappeared, the brick fell into two big pieces and hit the ground.

The impact had left a deep dent in the guard's helmet and, judging by the extensive nose bleed, he had probably broken his nose when he fell. But the most horrifying thing about all of this was that he wasn't moving. Even his chest wasn't going up and down.

"Is he... dead?" Iron Wheel uttered, gasping for air, tired from all the running. "Did you kill him?"

"No," Sombra finally spoke after so much time of silence. "He's out cold, but not dead."

With those words, he delivered an angry, brutal blow into the unconscious guard's stomach. For a second, he regained conscience to spew out a small amount of blood and then closed his eyes again.

"Now, he's not likely to get up without help. Stupid idiot," Sombra snarled, leaving the poor stallion behind. Iron gulped, knowing well that he picked his side right: being with Sombra was much better than trying to fare against him.

"Ugh... was that necessary?" Iron Wheel asked, coming up to Sombra, passing him the loot. Sombra wrapped the purse in his grey aura and opened it up.

"Two hundred gold coins. Pretty good. Better than anything we got today, at least," he said, thinking of the pitiful amount of money they had found in the purses thus far. Thirty coins, forty, or sometimes even fifty — that one was their proudest achievement.

"Nice catch... Though, I hope nopony will find out about that guard," Iron Wheel added, trotting near his friend.

"Nopony will care. It's the bad side of town. He wasn't even supposed to be here," Sombra replied, continuing on. Whatever Iron Wheel tried to ask him further, he ignored it.

Iron Wheel turned silent for a brief moment, then sighed heavily.

"You know... you seemed happier before... when you were still dating Krystal," he said. "What happened between you two? You used to be so happy."

Iron Wheel stopped and covered his face, expecting an angry push or even a punch by the enraged unicorn, but nothing happened. He opened his eyes and noticed that Sombra had stopped and sat down on the ground, lowering his eyes.

"It's not easy to explain... But I did something that I shouldn't have. And now, she'll never forgive me."

Iron Wheel stopped for a second, looking at Sombra with surprise. He didn't expect him to reply, too. This was something inconceivable: Sombra, being... sad?

"This is some adult shit that — let's face it — you'll never encounter," Sombra said, looking at his friend, a sudden giggle escaping his mouth and brightening his face, but then immediately dissipating. "Never ask me something like this again, okay? I don't want to talk about her. At all."

"Okay, if you say so... But I wish you two were together again," Iron Wheel said and Sombra nodded thereto. "If only I could do something about it..."

Sombra looked at him sideways with interest. If he could do something about it? Something about that phrase seemed important, but he had to rephrase it for it to sound correct. Maybe it was not Iron Wheel who had to stop being a lazy ass and do something about the situation.

"Iron Wheel, you're... smarter than you look!" Sombra shouted, calming down to stab his friend with that remark, and raised his right hoof. "I think I know what to do. Stupid me! C'mon, give me a hoofbump!"

Iron Wheel opened his eyes widely, his mouth shining with a smile.

"What? Me? A hoofbump? Cool!" Iron Wheel shouted and quickly gave Sombra said hoofbump. He didn't know why he deserved it, but he was glad he did.

"Now, I have to go. Meet you later!" Sombra exclaimed and rushed away, running to the unknown direction. How stupid of him that he couldn't figure what to do. Time to set things right.

***

Sombra ran quickly, rushing through the streets, ignoring anypony he might have knocked down or hurt. He was finally inspired to do something. Finally, he understood what he had to do.

All these months, he had been suffering from loneliness, from the pain, but now, it would all be over. He would just come to Krystal, knock on her door, and then he would say sorry. He would beg for her forgiveness, do anything to earn it, and then leave with her. Together, they would raise the child. Together.

The fashionable roof of her mansion finally showed itself on the horizon, and Sombra knew he was close. He was just a few hundred metres away from his love and his future.

All the months he had spent looking like a complete wreck, doing nothing but steal and look for a way to release stress. He got into fights, tried robbery, and even thought about getting back into smoking, but abandoned it all in favour of stealing with his friend. Finally, it paid off and Iron's brain came up with an idea his own, much more intelligent head couldn't conceive: apologize. Just swallow his pride, and apologize.

Though, what should he say? How would he start his speech? Maybe a simple hello would suffice. And then what? Follow up with an apology? Or add some flavour text? Or maybe some interactions?

He was scared and excited at the same time. He couldn't wait to settle down this dispute, apologize to Krystal and be happy with her once more. Everything would come back to normal.

Sombra opened the metal gates leading to the yard and walked past the trees and bushes. If he had strayed just a few inches away, he would have reached the site of their spicy picnic. Her breath had felt so hot at that moment... These memories were so precious and warm, Sombra fondled them every night, only to wake up with a frustrated face, knowing that it was all past.

His heart skipped a beat when he approached the front door. Deep inside, he felt guilt eating away at his soul and the annoying voice of fear in his mind whispered: "Run away! Escape! She won't forgive you!"

She might not forgive me, Sombra thought, but at least, I'll let her know that what I said was wrong. His soul ached when he thought about how much she had to have cried. He could feel her pain. And he knew just how hard it would be to get Krystal back, but he prayed for a positive outcome.

Sombra knocked on the door a few times. After the last knock was silenced, he knocked once again, harder this time. The door was closed, but he knew Krystal was at home; the light in her window was a clear indicator.

"Krystal... It's me! Please, open the door!" he shouted when he realized that knocks wouldn't help. "I've got something to tell you... Please?"

He waited for a few minutes, expecting her to come open the door, but that didn't happen. Fear struck Sombra's heart, grasped it tight and made cold sweat run down his face. What if she would not open? What if she had done something to herself?

No, it was alright. The light in her room shone bright, she was probably there. So, Sombra decided to take a more direct approach. His horn lit up, wrapping himself in grey energies, and he lifted himself into the air.

He had never tried doing this before. It felt so weird to float above the ground like a bird. Though, in his case, it was more like a rock that was thrown into the air against its will. Even though Sombra tried to keep himself steady, he kept leaning left and right, sometimes whirling like a hurricane, and other times slamming into the walls of Krystal's mansion. During one such slam, he was unfortunate to ram his face into the wall. The collision with the hard material was felt immediately as Sombra lost concentration and started to fall. Thankfully, he managed to grab onto the windowsill.

"This looked so much easier in the book!" he grumbled, knowing that in A Runaway From Fate, Atris had tried such a trick. Sombra was glad the outcome was different in his where. Instead of breaking several of his ribs to end up in a hospital wherein he would meet his next spouse, he only got a few bruises.

After regaining control of his magic, Sombra flew into the air once more and finally carried himself to the window of Krystal's room. It was just as tidy as ever, with the poor pony lying in bed, facing away from the window.

She looked so weak and defenceless alone, Sombra immediately got the desire to hug her, keep her warm. But, the wound he dealt to her had to be treated first.

"Krystal, it's me. Please, let me in," he said after knocking on the window to draw her attention. Her frail shoulders flinched a bit — she’d definitely noticed him — but she didn't react. It was unreal to realize that this fragile girl was carrying a kid; her belly must be huge already.

The child... Sombra was still unsure about it. He wasn't ready to become a father... But he wouldn't abandon Krystal. He had been wrong all the time, and if he had to abandon his ideals, his freedom, for her... he would.

"Well... okay, I can stay outside, if you want. It's a bit chilly, you know, but I can take it," Sombra tried joking, but seeing Krystal indifference, he changed the positive attitude for a serious one.

"Look, Krystal, I'm really sorry for what I have said. I know I should have realized earlier, but... what can we do now?" he started speaking. "I've made a terrible mistake... such a terrible mistake. I was blinded by my own pride, I was afraid to lose my freedom, the freedom that has gotten so dear to my heart. Freedom of movement, freedom of choice..."

Freedom of choice? And what would he choose? Drugs? Sex? Life of debauchery and decay? Would he become just like his father: free of any responsibility, living his life for himself? No, if this was freedom, he didn't want it.

"I'm ready to throw away my freedom; I don't need it. I want you instead. Please, Krystal, listen to me, for I speak from the bottom of my heart: if you still value me as a pony worthy of forgiveness, and wish to trust me once more, open the window and let me in," he implored, his voice shaking from sadness and guilt, guilt that he hadn't felt for so long.

Krystal remained motionless and, as minutes passed, Sombra's faith shrunk and withered. Was the wound too deep to be cured?

"I- I understand why you wouldn't want to. I caused you great pain; I can't even imagine how great it is. You may hate me, but I still love you and you alone," Sombra said, putting his hoof on the window, holding back the pathetic tears that veiled his eyes. He didn’t want to think about how he’d look like if he’d cry now.

"If you ever change your mind, I'll be waiting for you in the summer house wherein you’ve protected me from the cold. I'll wait for you there from seven till nine PM every day."

He finally finished his speech and slowly descended down to the ground, uttering a silent goodbye. It didn't go as he wanted it to... but now she knew that he regretted what he had done. Hopefully, she'd think about it and forgive him. He'd wait for her to do so.

With the mix of dark thoughts and hope, he walked away. The first steps were made. Now, he just had to pray and hope on Krystal's mercy. His future was entirely in her hooves.

He left her mansion slowly, stopping every time he felt the need to look around and remember. Funny. Just a few years back, he would be scared to enter this house. Now, it seemed more welcoming than his own. He wished he could live here with his beloved, in quietness and calmness, away from the slums.

But for now, he had to hurry home. He needed to eat heartily. Tomorrow, he would be waiting for a long time.

***

Krystal heard all of it. Even though she didn't react, she heard all of it. She listened, and her eyes were filled with tears of joy. She had been right: he came back! Her heart hadn’t lied. Sombra did love her, after all.

Not that Krystal was going to immediately let him know that she wanted to forgive him so much. She suffered so much throughout these months, without support, without help. Every night, she had had the buzzing desire to end her life, but she’d driven away those thoughts and prayed for better future.

She stayed true to her promise to the unborn child, even abandoning her family’s wine cellars for a while, so the kid wouldn't get affected. She’d pretty much lived the life of a saint, but now she felt the strong desire to celebrate since the weeks of sadness, waiting, and pain were over.

If she hadn't valued her dignity, she would have opened the door right away. But, as the experience of reading countless of romance novels taught her: forgiving your loved one instantly was no way to go. He had been taught a lesson; he probably was worried so much when she didn't open, when she didn't react to his attempts at asking forgiveness.

Krystal jumped off her bed, landing on all four of her hooves, her limbs felt a bit shaky from her own weight. She really shouldn't have abandoned morning jogs. In addition to her own fat backside, she was now carrying a little colt or filly's not so fat backside inside herself, and it didn't help her problems weight problems.

"After this, I'm definitely going on a diet," Krystal promised to herself, poking her big belly. Thankfully, it wasn't big enough to clearly distinguish her, a fatty, from a pregnant mare, but Krystal was still worried about several servants who knew exactly how a mother looked like. But most of all, she was scared of her parents, scared of how they would react. How they would punish her...

She drove away these thoughts; mother and father were still away on the diplomatic mission in some Emperor-forgotten parts of the Empire, so she was safe for now. She had more important things — in her opinion — to take care of: she needed to dress up and go to that summer house.

When she helped Sombra out, she was trying to be a Samaritan, tried to show herself as a very good, nice and kind filly. Little did she know that she would be saving the love of her life.

She still had some time before seven PM, so, she put on some warm clothes, since the autumn was gaining power, before she went out the door to restore two lives to their former glory. It was time for their star to shine once more.

"My mistress, where are you going?" the servant asked, his puzzled expression showing on Krystal's room doorstep.

"Oh, just a few trots around the park, nothing more. I'll be quick, do not worry," Krystal informed, looking in the drawer, deciding what scarf to put on.

"Don't leave just yet. I have a surprise for you. Come with me!" the servant informed, his excited tone making Krystal wonder what had possibly happened to make him so excited.

"A surprise? Well, then, let's see your surprise," muttered Krystal and followed the pony. Though a bit irritated that she would have to receive to some silly present instead of fixing her life, she still might as well make Sombra think about his words a little longer.

The servant led her to the hall at the entrance, whence Krystal heard voices and the sounds of moving furniture. She also felt some magical reverberation; somepony was definitely using levitation.

The servant opened the door to her and stepped away, letting his mistress pass. Krystal entered the hall and the smell of fresh fruits and travel bags greeted her nose. She closed her eyes and sniffed the air, filling her lungs with the smell of oranges and apples and a weak aroma of wine.

However, the sight of joy turned into a not-so-pleasant sight when she opened her eyes and saw who had brought these treats.

"I can't believe we're finally home. Sweet Emperor, what a trip!" Lazarus exclaimed, unpacking the fruits from the travel bag. "I think I ate more dust than usually. Stupid stagecoach and that brainless imbecile of a driver... Ugh!"

Celene was there, too, looking through the closet to see if her dresses were in order. After making sure they were alright, she approached the table and poured herself some water in a cup.

"Look on the bright side: at least we got out earlier from your ridiculous mission. Else we would have had to travel through winter," she tried to calm her husband down, pouring him some water as well.

"Yes, Celene is right: be grateful, Lazarus, for the providence granted you an early vacation," Matvey said, looking around this new environment. He was wearing an elegant suit with soft collar and painted sleeves, which went from his hooves and up to his ankles.

"I'd say the trip wasn't so bad. At least we got here without meeting any bandits."

"Oh my, don't remind me of that! Bandits, the scum of the world. I wish every mare, which ever gave birth to a future bandit, would see what their spawn is doing at the time. Urgh, disgusting!" Lazarus replied and, turning away from his guest, finally noticed his daughter, whose face had paled significantly over the last few seconds.

"Oh, Krystal, am I glad to see you!" he exclaimed, smiling. After dropping a few measuring glances, his expression changed to a puzzled one.

"Huh... you've been cuddling the chocolate, sweetie?" he asked and Krystal turned as red as a ripe tomato.

"Yes! Yes, I was," she gasped, her mind all over the place. Nightmares were coming true: up was down, down was up, she was pregnant, Matvey and her parents were here. She was doomed.

"I hope that's alright... I really do," Lazarus mused, looking sideways at Matvey, who sneered.

"Oh, it's okay, really. The filly was hungry, what's wrong with that?" He laughed. "Besides, I bought her some sweets as well."

He looked back and coughed loudly. Out of the shadows came his servant, a stalwart light-coloured crystal pony, carrying a big basket.

"Caramel, pies, cupcakes — everything the lady desires," Matvey's predator smile sent a shiver down Krystal's spine. "Or do you prefer vegetarian? I think not."

He nodded at her, noting her figure and belly, and Krystal gritted her teeth. At least they didn't notice; her pregnancy wasn't obvious yet, but she was still in trouble. She had to get out of her house as fast as she could. She had to run away, get to Sombra and come up with a plan, a plan to save them both.

"No, thank you, I'm not hungry. I'm terribly sorry but I have to go to my room. Right now," she said, her voice slipping away into a worried tone. Her mother immediately noticed that and looked at Lazarus with worry and doubt. He replied with an assuring look and approached Krystal.

"I'll escort you, dear. We have something to discuss, anyway," he said, smiling and nodding to Matvey to follow them. A cramp ran down Krystal's back, but she clenched her teeth and proceeded.

Her heart pounded like a wardrum, her cheeks quickly covered with cold sweat, and her vision became blurry. She couldn't have even imagined that this could have happened; all she had prayed for was that she would be able to slip out of her house at night, unnoticed, and then meet Sombra at the appointed time.

Before Krystal could close the door, Lazarus used his magic to block it and stuck his head in the little passage that was formed.

"Hold on, dear! I told you I've got something important to talk about," he said, and Krystal backed away, gulping nervously. To relieve her, Lazarus smiled gently and gave her a pat on the head.

"Don't worry. There's nothing to be scared of. Every pony your age has to go through this," he assured before clearing his throat. "Sorry for my rudeness, I haven't even introduced you to our guest of honour: Lord Matvey III, one of the richest and most powerful nobles of Crystal Empire."

"We've already met, Lazarus; no need for introductions," Matvey grinned. "Let me explain the situation myself."

He slowly trotted past Lazarus and approached Krystal, and unnerving smile on his face.

"You see, after we have met, I couldn't get you out of my head. It's like you burned some parts of my soul, leaving scars. I realized that I can't live anymore without you," he confessed, extending his right forehoof. "And I've come here today to announce my feelings to you."

He kneeled down before her, bowing his head.

"I love you, Krystal, and at this very moment, I propose to you."

Krystal closed her eyes. This was what she had always been afraid of. This was bad, really bad.

"But that's not the point right now. You see, I and Matvey have agreed upon one thing... It's called the Meet Off," Lazarus said, sweating a little. "It's an ancient sacred tradition among the nobility of the Empire."

Spoke the father slowly, his voice trembling; he was clearly nervous. While he explained, Matvey took a sweet stroll across Krystal's room, looking around nonchalantly.

"The groom and the bride meet in a place of their choosing, and then, they have the whole day to... get to know each other better, like, very close."

"Stop beating around the bush, just tell her the truth!" Matvey said in a strict voice. "This 'meeting very close' is fornication, Krystal, and I think you already know what that involves."

It was amazing how open and merciless Matvey was about the fact that Lazarus had sold Krystal to him. She turned to her father, eyes filled with horror, and he turned away, just turned away.

"I'll make it worth your while, dear Krystal. You won't have to ever think about need any more; you'll live in my mansion, surrounded by dozens of servants, which will tend to your every need. I shall make you a queen, my little queen," his words poured like honey, every mare would fall into his possession at the first notes of something like that. But to Krystal, they were poison, acid.

"I... I need to think," she uttered, looking at her father with the same look she had given Sombra when he’d left her. The difference between Sombra and Lazarus was that, while Sombra was very, very close to her, he wasn't her family, the family that raised her. Lazarus was. And he’d just betrayed her.

"Well, you have the right to think — up to three months. Maximum," Matvey said and smiled. "Let us leave now. I'll see you later... sugar."

He said the last words with a bit of tenderness, fake tenderness. Krystal saw them both leave her room, her father not even turning around, trying to keep up with his guest.

After they left, Krystal quickly locked the door and rushed to her bed; she wanted to wrap herself in the blanket and thus make them think she was saddened and in despair... while she’d come up with a plan of escape.

Thank you, romance novels.

Take the fall

"She didn't look surprised," Matvey noted and Lazarus turned away from him.

"You weren't looking," he replied, prompting a giggle from the lord.

"Maybe. It doesn't matter now," he looked back and the whimpers reached his ears. "That is to be expected. Every girl is scared before the first time. Just give her some time."

"I know... Treat her carefully; she's my only daughter," Lazarus said, glancing at his future son-in-law.

"I shall be the tenderest and most loving stallion you could ever imagine," Matvey assured. "However... just to avoid trouble... I'll order several guards to stand around your mansion. If the girl decides to escape, they shall bring her back."

"That is completely unnecessary, but I'll agree; the girl reads too many romance novels... Who knows what might come to her hot-headed mind," Lazarus said, and thus, it was settled. Krystal's own house was to become a prison for her until she’d give her body to the powerful lord.

***

The wind howled outside of the summer house and the drops of rain were bombarding its roof like a violent war machine. The piercing cold chilled Sombra to the bone, made him shudder. Even his thick skin and skull, accompanied by a big amount of attitude, were not saving him from the breath of winter.

The young stallion closed his eyes, leaned on the wooden girder, and sighed heavily. The cold was, of course, terrible, but his heart ached more than his frostbitten skin. He was loyal to Krystal, but he still had doubts. What if she wouldn't come? What if she hadn't forgiven him? What if she decided to find a more fitting stallion? One who'd actually care, protect and, support her. Nopony could really blame her.

What else did you expect, dumbass? For her to run back to you with open hooves, screaming: 'Take me, my prince, take me?' You make me sick! his inner voice shouted. Of course she's angry. Of course she won't come back! Because you're a moron!

I know. Just stay quiet, alright? I feel pathetic already as it is. Don't make it worse than it already is, Sombra thought as a reply to his logical train of thought and sighed one more time. I hope she'll listen... I really do.

You'll come here every day, too? Isn't that a bit of a waste, a totally lost cause? His inner voice kept taunting him.

I'll come here still. And even if it's obvious that she won't come... I'll come here and wait for her. It doesn't matter, wind, fire, water, earth or Abyss itself... I'll come here and wait for her, Sombra promised to himself. Would he be able to hold this promise? Would he really spend time that he could have spent on himself just to stand and wait for Krystal?

Yes. And nothing in the world would be able to move him away from this spot, not rain, nor snow, nor apocalypse. He knew he was guilty, and if he had to die on this very spot to earn forgiveness, he'd be ready.

Without her, life was pointless anyway.

***

Night. Wind. Whispers.

Krystal got up early — four AM. Without wasting any time, she opened her closet wherein she hid the prefab rope. Matvey's young servant, who had been put in charge of taking care of her since the old stallion was far too suspicious for the noble, didn't suspect a thing when Krystal had asked her to bring her the rope. What an idiot!

She tied the rope to the leg of her bed and threw the other end out of the window; rope climbing wasn't something she was good at, but this was her only hope.

After making sure the rope would hold her securely, Krystal flexed her hooves a bit, preparing for a hard climb, and then looked out of the window. Several lights were slowly floating in the garden. Guards. Did Matvey foresee her steps or something? And how come that her father approved this?

It was still hurtful to realize that her own family had sold her, and now, they were keeping her hostage in her own house. But she didn't have time to cry or weep. She had to act.

After the little warm up was over, she checked the rope once again, and then slowly stuck her hindlegs out of the window, holding the rope tightly with her teeth and wrapping her forehooves around it. She couldn't afford using magic; her ability to tap into magical streams was cut, due to her pregnancy. Most of her magical powers were weakened since the growing child started to mess around with them, clearly showing that he or she was a unicorn. If Krystal wasn't a unicorn, she wouldn't feel a thing, but constant weakness and loss of control over her magic followed her every step.

The cold wind touched her body, and she shuddered a bit, after getting used to the warmth of her room. Gathering her strength, she pushed herself out of the window and was finally outside.

Krystal wanted to look down, but knew she would get scared, and instead focused her sight on the wall. Slowly, trying to preserve strength and balance, she started climbing down, her hindlegs pressed against the wall and her forehooves wrapped tightly around the rope. It managed to hold her weight, only crackled a bit.

Moving slowly, she couldn't help but wonder: since when did her life turn from a romance novel to some adventure book? Though, to be honest, her escape did remind her a lot of Atris's escape from the asylum he was locked in for thinking differently than his superior, Lord Noxic.

"Just a few inches..." Krystal tried to calm herself down, knowing well enough that below her was a long way down. If she hesitated, or made a mistake... she might die.

Death... Cold and slow, looking at whatever was in front of you, knowing well enough that it would be the last thing you’d see while your body slowly got colder and colder, your heart slowing down as your blood turned to ice. Your heart would turned silent and you’d sigh one last time — your dying breath.

You vanish, disappear from the world, and all that was left of you would be a lifeless husk of a body. A body that she wasn't even satisfied with.

But how would it be to face death... when you hadn't even been born yet? What would it be like to die without knowing how to breathe, move, or love? To die and to vanish without even a single memory of you, as though you had never been there?

Krystal clenched her teeth around the rope tighter, receiving one more proof of why her child had to live and that she’d made the right decision. What she was doing right now wasn't breaking the rules, she was saving a life, hers and her little kid's.

She felt that she was very close to her goal when suddenly a loud scream broke her concentration.

"She's escaping!" the guard, who’d passed by the walls of the house, screamed, pointing his hoof at Krystal who was hanging a few meters up above the ground. "Stop her!"

"Wha- Ah, shit!" A completely unladylike behaviour from Krystal was well expected as the scream of the guard distracted her, and she let go of the rope. The wind whistled in her ears as she plummeted down into the ground.

As she fell, she thought of death. How stupid and scary it was, how terrifying and how close it was, flying right next to her as she fell down on the ground, whispering, tempting her to succumb, tempting her to give away two souls for eternal peace.

"Sweet Emperor... A doctor! Get me a doctor! Now!" a loud shout seemed so quiet and fading to her. The lower half of the body felt numb... at least there was no pain.

"Where's the damn doctor?!"

***

"Will she be alright?" Lazarus asked after Matvey had told him the news. The lord collapsed onto the couch and sighed deeply.

"Yes, she will, despite the fall from such a height — no broken bones. Only severe contusions," he said emotionlessly. "Drat... I should have ordered to block the windows."

Lazarus took a deep breath, but still couldn't calm down. When the servants delivered the news to him, he had almost had a heart attack. But, at least Krystal was alright. Though, how stupid was she that she’d try to escape? And for what reason?

"Lazarus, do you know much about your daughter's personal life?" Matvey forcefully caused his train of thought to derail. "Does she have a coltfriend, or something of sorts?"

"No, as far as I know, she doesn't," he replied.

"’As far as you know’ is not enough for me. We should keep a close eye on her. Who knows what she might try to pull off next time. We can't allow her to put herself in danger!" Matvey concluded, but Lazarus knew that he cared more about the fun-time he’d paid for than Krystal's wellbeing. He started to doubt whether he’d made the right decision, but quickly suppressed those thoughts; Krystal needs a rich husband. Their entire family needed a rich patron. Only through this Meet Off could they be allowed to live in prosperity.

"I'll order the guards to keep a watchful eye on her," Lazarus promised and Matvey sneered.

"Have you forgotten? There's another rule: unless the lady decides, we can't just come and see her until she decides to announce her decision... Stupid rules!" he exclaimed, and gestured the servant to bring him some tobacco. "We'll have to wait for three months till the time runs out and we can officially ask for her decision. Old systems never fail to amaze me. Just how did our progenitors manage to wait for three damn months? No offense, Lazarus, but your girl is gorgeous. I'm surprised she's not been courted yet."

"Many tried, but she rejected everypony," Lazarus said, closing his eyes. She forced his hoof! She was sixteen. She should have made a decision already. If not, then he would choose for her.

"Oh, I see. She was looking for a prince in shining armour," the lord sneered, stuffing the tobacco into a pipe. "Well, shining armour is hard to come by these days. But she's welcome if she wants to marry a prince, he-he-he."

"Is there something you haven't told me, Lord Matvey?" Lazarus took that joke a bit too seriously.

"No. That was rhetorical. Don't raise a fuss over nothing," Matvey said, winking to Lazarus to light his pipe. "Please, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Krystal's father obeyed and casted a simple fire spell. Soon, the room was filled with noxious smoke.

"Many thanks. I like your mansion a lot, Lazarus. Not as big as mine, but still quite comfortable," Matvey said and smiled viciously. "Tell me... how big of a castle do you want as a gift after mine and Krystal's marriage?"

"Ughm..." Lazarus cleared his throat and let his imagination run wild for a moment. How big of a castle? Very big. With lots of servants for both him and Celene.

Even though trouble and worry was following this deal, he knew it was worth it. Just one marriage and their whole family would live like kings!

"I don't know yet. I would like it to be on a mountain, though."

***

The servant swiped the crumbs of bread from her mane and proceeded quickly through the halls. The purple tail and braid were swaying back and forth as she walked, trying to hold the glass of milk and several slices of bread on the tray she was holding with her right hoof in balance.

Why wasn't she the daughter of this puffed up diplomat? She wouldn't mind to live in a mansion like this! No, instead, she had to carry food to a girl so shy she didn't even come out of her room.

There were rumours among the servants of Matvey that Krystal had tried to commit suicide several times, but they found no proof thereof. She had tried to escape, yes, but not to kill herself.

The girl was strange, anyway. She was offered such a chance — to marry a lord, to get so much in her possession — and she was still thinking about this for the whole duration of three months! The young pony felt a chill run down her spine when she passed by a window wherebehind a blizzard was raging. There hadn't been a winter like that for many years. Not that the young servant knew; her main source of information were the elderly servants, her co-workers.

Krystal seemed strange to her. Not only was she silly, in her opinion, but also... paranoid. She stayed in her room for days, even weeks. Gossips told that she came out only at night, to tend to her needs. Who knew what she was doing during the day... maybe she was a vampire! And she was aiming to drink Matvey's blood when he was asleep! That would be horrible... and quite hilarious, since every servant of Matvey believed he had toxic blood because of his nasty behaviour.

Matvey didn't have too many bad habits, but he was a real ladies’ stallion. Whenever he ever spotted a backside he liked, he would never miss a chance to get under that mare's skirt. It seemed Krystal was the one unfortunate.

For a moment, the young servant felt bad for the young mare. It really wasn't her choice of groom, was it? It had to suck that she didn't get to pick her loved one... and a mate, too.

Finally, she reached the soon-to-be bride's bedroom and rapped on the door. She had to leave the tray near the door and go away, since that was what the rule the Meet Off demanded, and thus, what Matvey had commanded... and yet... she really wanted to take a look at this young Krystal. Was she really that pretty as they described?

She put the tray near the entrance and knocked on the door again. No reply. She must be sleeping. Usually, she would command to go away or something like that. But right now, there was nothing.

"Well, then, young Krystal, if you don't mind, I'll take a look at your precious face," the mare whispered, taking out a spare set of keys she stole in advance from the old gatekeeper of this house. The lock clicked lightly and she opened the door.

Krystal was peacefully dreaming in her bed, surrounded by plushies and toys. The mare complained quietly. Living like a queen, ain't she? Now, to see what Matvey is so obsessed with.

Krystal's face was quite pretty, she couldn't deny that. But it wasn't her face that put the young mare into a state of shock. It was Krystal's belly, a humongous balloon.

Some would say she’d just eaten too much and hadn't moved at all, but, thanks to gossip, the servant knew exactly how a pregnant mare looked like. She covered her mouth in shock and grasped for air.

Her masters... they didn't know about this yet. She should tell them. Matvey had to know that the girl wasn't innocent. Or should he?

For a moment, the servant thought about what would happen to Krystal if her secret would be revealed. Horrible things were said to be done to whores among the nobles. Very bad things.

But she couldn't just leave the secret hanging. She needed to tell and they would find out soon, anyway. Krystal seemed like she had over five months of pregnancy behind her. How had she managed to keep it a secret?

It didn't matter anymore. She would tell her masters, earn the reward, and then disappear from this strange house of nobles forever. The mare was more than glad to get away from this viper den as fast as possible, and away from Matvey as well.

The servant left, closed the door behind her, and rushed straight to Matvey. Hopefully, he would reward her greatly. For all those years of mockery and flout, he better should.

Protector

"Unbelievable! This is just unbelievable!" the angered lord shouted, spitting. He seemed to use that word a lot. "I can't believe it!"

Matvey growled a curse once more before smashing a vase in front of him, which had, up to this point, peacefully been standing on the table. It flew into the wall and turned into tiny shards. There could be no end to his frustration. And why would there be. He got ripped off, big time.

There never had been a time where he had been ripped off. Nopony would dare to fool him; he was Matvey, The Lord, the richest noble of the Empire.

"My lord, please, listen to me: this isn't my fault!" Lazarus cried, tears gathering in his eyes. "I... I didn't know she was... that she was..."

"Don't give me this idiocy, Lazarus! You're her father. You’re supposed to know!" he growled and glanced at the girl who stood in a corner, covering herself with a light shawl. Poor thing. She really looked pathetic, unlike the proud lady back at the banquet.

Matvey didn't look at her anymore. He wouldn't admit it in the open, but he didn't want to torment her, since it wasn't her fault. Mares were beasts that desired freedom, would do anything for it. There would be no inhibitions to what they’d do if they’d receive their long desired freedom. If you, as a stallion, couldn't keep your mare under control, any fault, and mistake she’d make would be yours, not hers.

"How was I supposed to know that my daughter was a... a..." before Lazarus could say the cruel word, Matvey put his hoof to his lips.

"Do not say that. There are no whores in nobility, there are only stallions who are oblivious to their wives and daughters. You are definitely one of them, if you couldn't notice that your daughter was carrying a child until it was far too late to stop the pregnancy!" he growled. "And, in addition, you're a cheater! You were going for the Meet Off, knowing that she was no virgin!"

Celene trembled at these words, which signified that Lazarus would probably get himself in trouble. Matvey smiled. At least this idiot would get punished for his blindness.

"Please, my lord, reconsider! I had no idea Krystal had sinned with some low-born! It's not my fault!" Lazarus was almost crying. Poor thing.

"Are you deaf? I really don't care with whom Krystal has slept. All that matters is that it wasn't I, and that you failed to make sure it would be I,” Matvey said, looking for his tobacco pipe. "Where's my pipe?"

"Here it is, sir." The servant quickly passed the pipe to him. Matvey quickly put it in his mouth and looked around for the unicorn who would usually light it.

"Where is that moron?" he growled, when Lazarus suddenly lit the pipe without any warning. "Bah, stop hooflicking, Lazarus, this won't change anything. The deal's cancelled."

Lazarus turned away, looking at his wife, then hatefully at Krystal.

Before leaving, Matvey approached Krystal and took a good look at her. A moment later, he gently touched her cheek salty from tears with his hoof.

"I envy your first stallion... I hope he was worthy," he sarcastically noted, already knowing the answer: no, he wasn't. With a prideful smile, darkened only by the realization that some pony had beaten him to the 'prize', he took his leave along with his servants, guards and all of Lazarus's dreams.

The servants wrapped him into a majestic red mantle, before setting out into the blizzard. Even though it was quite stormy, he didn't want to stay in this mansion any longer.

Lazarus gritted his teeth when the doors, leading outside the mansion, were closed, sealing away all hope for a rich life and prosperity. And because of what? — Because of his whore of a daughter who, instead of learning, decided to hide around the corners and get plowed by all kinds of low-born scum. Slowly turning around, his eyes red with anger and his heart pounding with no stop, he casted a hateful glance at his wife.

"Are you happy now? Did sending her to a 'normal' school turn out well? Are you happy?" he repeated, faced with Celene's angry look.

"Meet Off? You haven't told me anything about that!"

"Oh, shut up, please! It doesn't matter anymore, it's cancelled!" he shouted at his wife. "Our opportunity to live happily ever after is gone, only because our daughter is a damn whore!"

He screamed the last words so loud that Krystal trembled with shock. She would have never expected to see such treatment from her father. Since Krystal was a filly, she had thought she could trust him with even the most personal secrets. She turned to her mother, silently crying for support and help, searching for it in her eyes.

Her mother's eyes, the ones she adored so much, wherein she’d find hope and care even in the darkest of hours of her short life.

Now, she found nothing.

Cerene looked at Krystal with shame and just a pathetic bit of sympathy. One small look was all she got and then Celene quickly left the room, leaving Krystal face to face with her enraged father.

She lowered her head, looking straight at the floor as he approached her, every step tearing the poor girl's soul apart with fear and dismay.

"Why did you betray your family, Krystal?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"Dad, I didn't! I can explain everythi—"

Her voice was silenced with a loud pound on the floor. Her father had a habit of stomping the ground when he wanted somepony to be quiet or when he was really angry.

"Don't you dare come up with excuses! I already have an explanation: you were hiding this sinful desire ever since you reached this... awkward age! You were hiding this desire and you should have kept hiding it, but then you met a stallion whose charm you couldn't resist!" he screamed at his daughter. "Then, I doubt I need to retell what you did in some dirty corner!"

Krystal backed away slightly, covering her belly. Her face was covered with a blush when she remembered how she and Sombra decided to try something new... in her parents' bedroom.

"Instead of saving your pride, you wasted it on some rabble that you barely even know!"

"That's not true! He loves me! And I love him!" Krystal finally lost her cool and shouted back. Her father's eyes widened with shock and anger.

"Loves you?! Trash is incapable of love, you idiot!" he screamed, but suddenly stopped and felt calm for a moment. Then, he left the room.

Krystal was standing in place like a rabbit, too scared to run away. Everything inside her felt empty as she felt her own soul drift away into nothingness. Her whole life was being destroyed right now, and she could do nothing about it. She couldn't lie, she couldn't succumb to her father's will, for her feelings for Sombra were far too passionate to suppress.

Her father walked into the room once more, holding something aloft with his magic. After taking a closer look, Krystal realized that it was her golden pendant. Lazarus stopped in front of her and opened the little neckwear.

"I had such a beautiful daughter... back then. It pains my heart to realize that she grew up and became you," he said bitterly. "You really believe he loves you? Then go to him and never come back!"

With those agonizing words he threw the pendant into Krystal's face. The golden neckwear left a small scratch on her cheek and a horrible wound in her soul. She looked once more into his eyes, her own eyes filled with tears and a question: Why? She found no answer, only cold and bitter command.

"Get out!" he said coldly, slamming the door behind him, leaving his daughter with the pendant and no hope.

As tears ran down her cheeks, Krystal picked up the pendant and put it around her neck. She felt hurt and abandoned, destroyed and manipulated by everypony she had ever considered a friend or family. The will to life was fading inside her as she approached the front door and opened it, the vicious blizzard biting her skin.

Without any fur-coats, blankets or anything to protect the frail mare from the cold, she ventured onwards, tears falling from her eyes, turning into ice when they touched the snow. She walked, slogging through the deep snow, falling and getting up, her belly angrily booming and the child inside her womb turning anxiously, feeling the cold.

She walked, without looking back, praying, that, maybe, there'd be one pony in the whole world who’d grant her a roof over the head. Hopefully, Sombra was still waiting for her in that summer house, ever faithful and yearning for her forgiveness.

She had never believed in fate or supreme deities. But right now, she was praying, for she was scared for one life. Not for her own, but for the one fledging inside her. She couldn't understand the sudden love she felt for the baby inside her, but, after so many months of hiding, attempts to escape, and tears, she realized just how much she valued the child. She wanted to get to Sombra as fast as possible and save the child, even if it’d cost her own life.

***

His body felt numb and the tips of his forehooves felt non-existent, as if they weren't even a part of his body anymore. He quickly rubbed them against each other, trying to warm them up through friction.

Sombra tried to warm himself by trotting in circles, without leaving the summer house itself; that would mean an immediate cold. He would drown in snow, or turn to ice because of the wind colder than ice itself.

Nature really went wild with this winter; he couldn't recall any winter like this. It had arrived so suddenly, too. It had seemed like autumn, with its endless rains, mud, dirt, and melancholy would never end, until the cold winds arrived, turning everything to ice.

After cleaning his mind of unneeded thoughts about nature, he peered into the white gust. There was nothing else to do but wait. But, at least, his temporary nap cut the time he had to sit here and freeze.

Funny, though. He had come here more often than he could remember: every day at the same time, the same place, just to wait for nothing. And even though any sane pony would just accept his mistakes and move on, Sombra wanted to correct that fatal one, even if it’d cost him his own skin.

Why, Krystal? Why won't you forgive me? he thought, looking into the storm and sighing heavily. But maybe I deserve this. Yes, I definitely deserve this.

To wait forever for the forgiveness that may never come. What a cruel fate, he thought.

Looking into the storm, he noticed some movement in the white gust. Somepony was slogging through the banks of snow, slowly making his or her way to the summer house. This wasn't the first time Sombra had seen something like this. During blizzards, many stranded ponies sought refuge in here. He would have to share this place, then, which he didn't like at all.

But, the closer the pony came, the more familiar he or she seemed, the figure, the gait, the very outline. It was a mare, a big one, but Sombra couldn't see through the mist well enough to tell who it was.

"Hey! Who goes there?!" he shouted at the approaching figure. There was only one reply: a loud and bitter sob, which he could hear through the howling of the wind. A reply he had never expected.

"Krystal!" he shouted, and immediately ran out of the summer house, towards the figure. It was Krystal; her cheeks were as white as chalk and her body was covered with snow. Her mane was horribly dishevelled by the wind, and her movements were slow and sloppy as her big belly didn't allow her to walk very fast. When she saw Sombra, she seemed to have brightened up: her muddy, tear filled eyes sparkled for a moment, but then turned dim as her face lost color again, turning blue.

All she could utter before fainting was a weak moan. Sombra, wasting no time, approached her and helped her get up.

"Krystal! Wake up! Can you hear me? Wake up, love!" he cried anxiously, but the mare didn't reply. Sombra looked around, thinking of whither he could take her. Without any clear idea of what he was doing, he started dragging Krystal's body somewhither, hoping to find a warm spot or an abandoned building wherein she would be shielded from the cold.

His heart was pounding, the blood in his temples boomed with each passing moment. The joy of reuniting with Krystal was darkened by fear of what might happen to her after she exposed herself to such cold.

He had many questions, so many questions. But his will was strong enough to suppress them all and focus on saving his beloved. He activated the warmth sharing spell, providing Krystal with enough heat to last a little bit longer, long enough for Sombra to find a shelter.

But where in this big city, full of houses, big, and small, where would he find a shelter for both of them? Outcasts were not welcome anywhere, even in their own home.

***

The walls of the long abandoned warehouse were scratched, dusty. The giant holes on their surface told many stories, of parties, fights and deaths that happened in this forgotten place.

This place used to be a hospital for the poor. For those ponies who couldn't afford the normal healthcare. Here, two humble sisters Natalia and Victoria had helped those in need. They had never charged anypony for their help, always taking care of the poor and maimed, helping them get through another winter or guard raid. They used to find those who were sick and dragged them hither to be treated.

Sombra had heard many rumours about this place. Those two had certainly been good ponies, in a way, but they had to profit from this, after all. So, there were theories that they’d gathered those, who couldn't be saved or have died from disease, and sold their body parts on the black market. Many young gryphon nobles who had to prove worthy of their adulthood, would buy these to show to their parents to demonstrate their courage and bravery instead of actually going to battle.

The story of the sisters had ended tragically. In the end, it didn't matter if they had traded body parts or not. Some drug addicts came hither and killed them both, looking for anything to sate their desire. They had found no Dust, so they left, leaving this building to rot.

Sombra cleared away one room from the junk, filling it, and set up a nice little corner for Krystal to lie in. She was still unconscious when he placed her on what was left of a bed and covered her with an old, torn blanket; he went out to find a better cover for her. He needed something very warm, like sheepskin coat, or a duvet — anything to provide warmth for her. His spell was still giving her warmth, but his own temperature was getting lower and Sombra started to feel nauseous from the amount of pressure his veins and brain were enduring. Bile was already rising in his throat. He felt like he could faint any moment, not just because of the exhaustion, but out of worry.

"Hold on, love. I will save you. I promise!" Sombra said, leaving Krystal to rest. He would find a blanket, even if he had to kill for it. He wouldn't spare anypony if it meant saving Krystal. He would murder for a warm blanket.

At the very instant Sombra left the building, the cold wind bit him, making him clench his teeth. But he walked onward through the raging blizzard and the snowflakes, which were scratching his skin.

He compared this cold to the one he’d felt as a kid, when walking to school through the banks of snow, compared the feelings he felt now to what had been before.

Thinking back to how he and Krystal were before made his eyes water. He held them back, knowing well that he'd be dealing with ice on his cheeks if he cried. But there was something to cry about: something was lost between them. Sombra only noticed it now, when everything was rolling down the hill.

Back then, they were both... pure and innocent. Young, foolish, and full of dreams. At least Krystal was. Sombra was a husk ever since he had been born.

As he walked, messing the snow with his hooves, he realized that her life might have been better without him. She might have met a better stallion, one who was actually worthy of her and wouldn't abandon her in her time of need. Sombra walked and realized that he was nothing but burden and pain for a pony he loved.

And now, that pony was withering in a forgotten warehouse in the middle of the slums, when she was so used to the warmth of her mansion, the caress of her parents and servants, the expensive taste and smell of Unicornian wine. And he had deprived her of it all.

Sombra clenched his teeth, looked up and faced the cold blizzard with all the fire that was in his heart.

What the hell was he thinking right now? Idiocy! Bullshit! Words of a pony too weak to stand against the odds, words of a pony who couldn't protect or care for the ones he loved. The words of the creature he used to call father.

He was not like his father. He was not him. He was Sombra, and he would do anything to save his beloved, unlike his slug of a parent. It was time Sombra threw out the empty thoughts of sadness and melancholy, colted up, and actually started doing something!

"I versus them. I versus all of them to protect her!" Sombra whispered to himself. His own little speech, his call to arms, his battle cry.

"I shall protect you, Krystal, no matter what. Let's win this shit!" he suddenly shouted, and, to hit the moronic, weak, sad self even more, he inspirationally punched himself in the face. Though, he didn't consider his strength and punched hard enough to draw blood.

"Argh, damn it!" he swore, swiping the small bloodstreams from under his nose. But the deed was done. He was ready. And not only would he find a blanket, he also needed a big kettle, a bowl, a spoon, some pillows, matches, and a knife.

He didn't know what had happened to Krystal. Maybe she had been driven away from her home, and if that was the case, he would make damn sure that she’d have a new one. An even better than the old one!

Survival of the strongest

The smell of fresh vegetable soup teased Krystal's nostrils when she slowly opened her eyes, waking up from a strange fever-induced dream. Her head felt heavy, as if filled to the brim with metal, and her skin felt hot and wet.

She didn't even try to move, feeling that her limbs had no power in them; she couldn't lift a feather even if she tried her hardest. Krystal opened her mouth to speak, but all she could utter were weak moans and rattles.

"Oh, you're awake. I was so worried. You’ve been sleeping for quite a while," Sombra's suddenly gentle voice reached her ears. Krystal lazily turned her head to the source of the voice and saw Sombra standing near a small bonfire made out of broken furniture and torn cloth. The fire was surrounded by solid rocks, to prevent it from spreading, but it was far too small to actually set anything on aflame, even in such a rotten building. Where was she anyway? She couldn't remember anything; everything from the point of her collapse at Sombra's feet was blank.

The floor, the ceiling, the walls of this place, they were all so old and rundown. There was junk everywhere, broken tables covered in dust, cobwebs and a slight cover of snow. However, her little corner was quite tidy: no dust, web or junk. It seemed like a broom had been at work.

Krystal finally realized that this little corner of hers was entirely Sombra's doing. He’d cleaned this place up a little, found this duvet to cover her from the chilling cold, and even set up an improvised kitchen where other beds used to be. And right now, judging by the smell, he was cooking something.

Sombra noticed Krystal's confusion and smiled.

"It's a vegetable soup. Sorry, but the vegetables are a little ‘out of date’, but they're all edible. I tried, so if you find bite marks, don't worry, that was me," he said, stirring the boiling concoction in the kettle. It looked quite new, but with a few scratches on its big, black belly.

Sombra used magic to lift a small spoon and delved it into the boiling soup. He tried to catch a piece of potato drifting in the soup and, having succeeded, tasted it.

He winced as he swallowed the concoction, showing clearly that he didn't like the taste.

"Oh, sweet Emperor... Ugh... I should have just brought bread and butter," Sombra lamented, and stirred the soup some more. His face turned sad and thoughtful as he stared into the whirling water.

"S- so..."Krystal wanted to say something, but he quickly shushed her.

"No. Don't speak. I know what you'll say. And I agree with every insult you were about to pronounce. I know what kind of pony I am, Krystal. I know how horrible I am," he sounded very honest and firm. "Before I ask for forgiveness, let me explain something to you, okay?"

She nodded weakly and Sombra took a deep breath.

"I was so hostile to you in the beginning — interested, but hostile. I thought you would stab me in the back, I thought you would betray me, like my previous friend did. But I decided to give this blooming friendship a chance," he made a pause, his stomach churning. "But, in the end, I was half-right. The betrayal happened, but the roles were reversed."

He looked at Krystal, his eyes filling with tears.

"I was afraid of betrayal, and in the end, it was I who betrayed you. I caused a wound so deep it cannot be measured. I've insulted your honour, and threw away my responsibility on your frail back".

She wanted to say something, but he quickly covered her mouth with his right hoof.

"No, don't say anything. I know. Please, don't hurt even more," he said. "All, that has happened to you, it's my fault. All of it." He took a breath and closed his eyes. "I promise, I will help you as long as you need help. And if you want me gone, I will go away. Just let me heal you back up, and then, decide my fate".

When he was done talking, he looked around and glanced at the boiling soup.

"Oh, it's ready. Now, it's dinner time!" he said and approached the kettle, wrapped the bowl, lying nearby, with his magic aura and dipped it into the kettle. He blew at it, the steam coiling in the air and flying away through the cracks. Sombra really believed that what he cooked could be eaten — at least if boiled.

"Though, some salt would be great," he noted drily after trying it. "Now, dear, open your mouth and try not to swallow all of it at once, you might burn your throat."

He levitated the bowl towards her.

"Now, carefully. Very carefully!" She put her lips to the edge of the bowl and felt the hot soup flowing down her throat. An immediate gag reflex kicked in as Sombra wasn't a good enough cook to figure out that the vegetables should be properly cleaned and chopped. But, it was edible. Krystal suppressed her disgust and just swallowed the food carefully.

Sombra tilted the bowl more and more until Krystal drank all of the soup. She coughed a few times, having not chewed one of the green lumps. After her stomach stopped seething, she felt warm and relaxed at last. At least it did the job: it kept her warm.

"There we go. Now, sleep. You should rest a lot," Sombra said, touching her. "You and the baby need a lot of sleep. Come on, close your eyes."

Krystal smiled weakly and obeyed, shutting her eyes. Immediately, the fever took over her, making her feel as if she was aflame. Every muscle in her body seemed to be pulsating with pain, but she held back, and just tried to fall asleep. She turned from side to side, hoping that her constant movements would keep the pain down, but it was to no avail.

Sombra gently hugged her, and tried to calm her down, stopping her from moving. Krystal finally felt the pain abate a bit and it slowly dissipated as she fell asleep.

When will this blizzard end? Sombra wondered, peering outside through the cracked window. The winter started not that long ago, but it seemed to have acquired its full power. The howling wind, the cold snow; all of these traits were so bitterly close and dear to Sombra. After all, during such time he met Krystal. He fell unconscious then.

The old times, oh my. How he strived to bring them back; the years, when they had both been little children, when Krystal had still had hope for the future, dreams and her childish smile. When she had been happy.

Sombra surrendered to thoughts for a moment. Was he really making her happy? Thinking logically, he had never given her anything worthy of note. Gifts? No, gifts have no value. Friendship? But she only suffered, having to endure his impossible, unreliable, uncontrollable character.

And then, there was the child, the child that he was responsible for and that he had so gladly abandoned.

How ironic. He hated Amethyst, and yet, in the end, was no different from the joke of a father he so despised. Just like Amethyst, he had abandoned his child. But unlike Amethyst, he still had a slight chance.

If Krystal would forgive him, he would be the best father in the world. He would always be by his kid's side, always help him with homework, always protecting him. He would pick the best filly for him as a pair.

Though, that would look very strange. His kid is sitting by the window, counting birds, when suddenly Sombra barges in with some filly, screaming ‘Hey, son, I found you a marefriend!’. How ridiculous.

He wondered: would his son be like him? That would be very irritating, having to listen to complaints from teachers; he would come home hours into the night, sometimes not even coming at all. And also watching his behaviour, or else he would take up a cigarette.

But the only thing his son would not have problems with would be the mares. Sombra was sure his perfect, flawless image of a perfect mare would pass on to his son. And that would be his mother. Not Blanket.

Though, he would definitely need to teach his son that he should be careful during... 'close contact', since early pregnancy is something he would need to avoid for the time being.

A chilling wind set Sombra's mind right - why was he only considering a son? Maybe Krystal was carrying a beautiful filly inside her. A daughter would be very cool, too. She would need protection from the bullies, which her father was more than ready to provide, until she would find herself a stallion... whom he would still control, because nopony touches his little daughter. Nopony, ever.

Sombra leaned on the windowsill. It tore his heart to think that his child might not be born. He felt so stupid. How could he think of getting rid of the child, and now wish for him or her to be there? How could he contradict himself so?

Maybe he’d changed, grown up, become responsible. Mayhap dreams had changed. There was one particular dream...

If the child Krystal was carrying was a daughter, he wanted to... hug her. Just a simple hug, wrap his hooves around her frail body and press her against his chest so she would hear his heartbeat. She would feel protected, safe in his grasp, because she’d know that her daddy could beat anything, even dragons.

"Krystal, please... live in this world. Live on, and bring light into it. If I die, nopony would notice, for I brought nothing worthy of note, but you brought so much light and good. Without you... the world would become so much colder. It would freeze. Please... live on, and share your happiness with others," he whispered, looking at Krystal dreaming in her bed. He approached her and slowly caressed her head. The fever, she felt like she was aflame. Oh, poor mare.

He noticed the pendant on her neck and touched it with his hoof, wanting to take a closer look.

Yes, it was the same pendant, containing the picture of her family, the one she wore back then, during their trip to the theatre. Carefully, in order not to disturb the beautiful mare, he carefully turned it over and opened it. The picture with the child her, her mother and her father with a moustache were still there.

Sombra's stomach churned when he saw this picture. He realized what he’d deprived Krystal of: not just home. He’d deprived her of a family. What kind of a pony he was, when he takes something from others, just because he didn't have the same things?

"I'm... sorry," Sombra whispered, knowing well enough that sorry wasn't enough. No amount of sorry could save him now.

He leaned his ear to her belly and listened carefully, catching and remembering every sound, for maybe it was his last and only chance to hear a sound made by his child. He was lying near her for hours, it seemed, and slowly drifted into sleep, lulled by the slow beating of Krystal's heart.

***

"Hey... wake up! Wake up!" Sombra felt a soft poke to his side and opened his eyes. Krystal gently pushed him, hinting that he should get off her, which he immediately did.

"I... Uh, sorry. I just wanted to get some shut eye for a moment... I'm just so tired," Sombra said, rubbing his forehead. Krystal smiled humbly, before coughing a few times.

"It's okay... Though you shouldn't sleep next to me," Sombra's heart shrank. "You might get infected. Who knows, it might be contagious."

"Ah, don't worry," Sombra said, relieved to know that she wasn't angry with him. "My immune system is strong."

He quickly touched her forehead and gave it a gentle kiss.

"I suppose you're feeling better?" the stallion asked, whereto Krystal nodded.

"Yes, I feel better, just... very exhausted, for some reason. Like I've been jogging the whole week," she said. "Can't feel my limbs... and there’s a heaviness in my stomach."

"Oh, I know what that is. Or who," Sombra giggled, rubbing her belly. "It became so much bigger. I'd say the child will be very big."

"I sure hope so. The bigger, the healthier," Krystal said. Sombra looked around and his mood went down a bit. This place, while big, was not a fitting place for the child to be born. Granted, he didn't know when it was going to be born.

"Krystal, I know I shouldn't ask, but how long till you finally give birth?" he asked, his voice trembling, afraid that she would push him away. Krystal noticed that and relieved him once again with a soft smile.

"I think five months, give or take." She made a long pause. "Are you... interested in what happens to the child?"

"Krystal, forget what I've said back then, when you first told me. Forget that farce; I was such a big fool back then. Krystal, please, give me a chance. Let me do things right. Please, please!" Sombra suddenly begged. The feelings he had from yesterday still persisted and the desire to hug his daughter burnt brighter than ever.

"You sounded different yesterday. I thought I had the freedom of choice," Krystal giggled weakly and coughed loudly several times. "You really want me to forgive you that badly?"

"Yes! I'd do anything! I'd build you a house, I'd collect enough money for you to live prosperous for ages. I'd even kill for you!"

"Stop, stop, enough!" Krystal calmed him down. "You shouldn't worry too much. The fact that you're ready to accept your duty as a father is enough for me. And... I really missed you and the lewd things you whisper in your sleep."

"You... wait, what? I whisper what exactly?"

"Nevermind." Krystal smirked, smiling and hiding her face behind a blanket. "Long story short: I want to forgive you. I missed you so much, dear, even after everything that has happened."

"R-really? You forgive me?" Sombra asked, just to make sure. She nodded in agreement.

"Yes! Yes! Thank heavens, yes!" he screamed.

"Hey, quieter, please! I never said the headache passed," Krystal noted and Sombra finally calmed down, hugged her, and kissed her gently.

"Thank you, dear, for giving me a chance," he whispered. "Now, let's focus on getting you back up. I can cook you some soup if you want."

"It would be nice... But do you have medicine for me? It doesn't seem like a common cold..." Krystal said, coughing loudly. "Oh, sweet Emperor, my chest... it hurts..."

She rubbed her chest, trying to somehow suppress the pain, but it only got worse. She cried with pain as the disease gripped her lungs.

"Krystal! Krystal, what's wrong?!" Sombra shouted, his horn lightning up instantly. He desperately looked for a healing spell in his memory, but could not find one.

Krystal started coughing loudly, gripping her throat, as if trying to scratch it open. Soon, her coughs turned into rattles, and her face turned pale.

"Krystal! Come on, girl, don't do this to me! Breathe!" Sombra cried, his voice filled with worry. Losing himself in fear, only one thought came to his mind, a trick he once heard about at school.

He moved the blanket away, and put his hooves on Krystal's chest, right where lungs are supposed to be. Then, repeating the words some boy told to his friend, he pressed hard every time Krystal inhaled. He didn't know whether it will stop this choking attack, but he had no other ideas.

Every time he pushed, Krystal coughed louder and louder, which clearly caused her pain. Finally, at the third push she rattled once more and fell on the pillow, motionless.

"Krystal... are you okay?" Sombra whispered.

"Khh... ugh..." She murmured before inhaling deeply.

"Krystal, please, stay still. Don't make sudden movements!" he pleaded, but she didn't listen and turned around on her side, swiping the blood, that streamed down her lips. Sombra paled at the sight of her bleeding.

"It's okay... I'll be okay... It's just blood... Could you give me a towel?" she uttered weakly, and he quickly fetched a towel, which he’d stolen not so long ago. He didn't quite know what to use it for, but it seemed to be clean. Krystal covered her mouth with the towel, and, having turned to her belly, coughed loudly several times into it.

When she moved it away, blood could be seen on the once white towel. Sombra took it, looking at the bloody stain with horror.

"Krystal... you're very sick... We need to get you to a doctor," he whispered, but Krystal quickly shook her head, coughing.

"No! No, we can't. We simply can't!"

He looked at her with despair. "But why?! They have to help. You’re sick! It's their duty!"

"Sombra... Do not worry. I'll be okay. You'll just have to get some medicine for me, that's all. I'll be okay," Krystal said, dragging the blanket back on to her. "Listen carefully: I need..."

She told him several names of the medicine she needed, though they all were in Unicornian. Sombra didn't understand any of them, but she told him to look for the names on the bottles. It shouldn't be too hard. However, little did she know how Sombra intended to acquire that medicine.

"I hope you have enough... money for it. I am sorry, I can't give you anything to sell..." she said, covering her pendant. Sombra smiled, trying to relieve her.

"Don't worry. Money's not a problem. I'll get the medicine for you," he assured her. "But... I can't leave you alone here. What if you have another seizure while I'm not there? What if some bum enters and you are here, alone and unprotected, with a child, no less? No, I can't simply leave you here alone."

She smiled at him, feeling all fuzzy inside from the care he was showing. Even though she was scared staying alone in this place, it had to be done. Otherwise she'd die.

"Go. I'll be okay. Just cover the doors, and I'll be here as quiet as I can. Nopony will notice," she said. "Go now. Please... Before it starts again...”

Sombra closed his eyes and turned away, not wishing to see his beloved spit blood. Without looking, he gave her the towel, and she quickly covered her mouth with it.

"Stay safe, Krystal. I promise, I won't be away for too long," he said, approaching the exit. "I'll be here soon. I'll heal you. You and our child have a long and happy life waiting. Just you wait."

Those were his last words as he disappeared into the blizzard. Krystal covered herself with a blanket and stared into the dying fire dancing in the improvised bonfire. She should probably give it some fuel.

Her horn lit up, as she levitated several pieces of food and threw them into the fire. Even such a minor spell took a good portion of her strength, but the deed was done: the fire would burn. She would have to do this from time to time, but she could manage it. She wasn't too worried. She was more anxious about Sombra, who was out there, all alone, in the snow.

Closing her eyes, she thought of the happy times she had, and would have. She knew that he would return soon, unharmed, and would heal her. A whole new, happy life was waiting for them, herself, Sombra, and the child.

A new and happy life.

***

"Good morning, sir! How can I help you?" the orange-colored earth pony greeted her new costumer. It had been a while since she’d had one of those.

"Good morning..." The blue shimmering crystal pony looked distressed and worried, his eyes dancing around as if looking for something. Drops of sweat were running down his neck and chest... which the young shopkeeper found very strange. It was so cold outside and he was sweating.

"Are you alright, sir? You look a bit pale," she said, looking straight at the blue pony.

"No, no, I'm okay... I just need a... brew for my wife," he said, rubbing his neck nervously.

"Oh, do you mean..." the orange mare hinted, and the blue pony quickly nodded. The shopkeeper then grinned.

"One second, please," she said, turned around and started walking around the shelves, filled with all kinds of bottles. Every bottle had a sticker on it, with sloppy black letters spelling out the name of the brew.

These stallions, the orange colored mare thought to herself, how shy can they get? Every mare has problems once in a while, there's no need to be shy about it. It's a pharmacy store, not a pub.

When she finally found the required brew, she put it on the counter in front of the stallion, much to his relief. He brightened up and sighed.

"There you go. That will be thirty gold coins, thank you," she announced. The stallion hesitated for a moment, but threw his purse on the counter, and the shopkeeper quickly counted out the needed amount of money.

"Thank you! Please, do come again!" she said, and the stallion took the brew and shoved it into the bag he was carrying. However, instead of leaving, he trotted along the display, looking at the dry flowers and petals, along with many more ingredients to be made into medicine and brews.

The mare let him do that, maybe he would pick up something else and just walked away from the counter, back into her cabinet. However, the ringing of the bell, hanging near the door by the entrance, made her flash back to the counter.

A young crystal unicorn, dark-hued, with molten snow in his mane and coat, entered the shop, looking around, looking just as nervous as the stallion before him. However, this boy looked teen, sixteen or seventeen years old max.

He looked around in anxiety, scanning his surroundings. When he noticed the blue stallion, he stood still and a shiver ran down his body.

"Hey, there, pretty!" the shopkeeper said, smiling and looking at the young colt. She never admitted this in public, but she had a thing for young colts and stallions, so much that many earth ponies shied away from her back in her homeland. But here, nopony seemed to mind, so she took the freedom to flirt a little bit with the younger part of her clientele.

"Welcome to Valencia's Herbal Medicine and Brews! I am very happy to see a new face around here," she sung, looking at the young colt approaching the counter. He didn't reply to her ingeniously composed greeting, and kept silent still. But the shopkeeper, Valencia, was determined to make this cutie talk even a little bit.

"So, do you need something in particular, or you're just looking around?" Valencia asked, looking at the young pony. He looked back at her. His eyes were so strangely muddy. Was he sick?

"I need medicine," the dark-colored pony rattled, trying to keep his voice down, looking straight into Valencia's eyes.

He quickly named the medicine he required, and even though he was speaking unicornian names, Valencia quickly remembered the normal names of the herbs he needed.

She took a long inspecting look at her young costumer. He didn't look particularly royal, and those herbs were incredibly expensive, especially during winter, when they reached the peak of their price.

"Honey, are you sure that's what you want? Because I don't see bags of gold with you," Valencia joked, not being too far off the truth. This young stallion didn't look rich at all. Why would he ask her for that?

"No, you don't. But I really need that medicine," he said, and something sinister sparkled in his eyes. Valencia wanted to reply with a flirty joke, but suddenly felt something cold touch her neck. She looked at the dark stallion again: his horn was sparkling with grey energies and his face was now contorted in a grimace.

She shifted her eyes a little bit to the right, and saw the light reflecting by the shiny surface of a small metal shard. The edge of the makeshift weapon was scratched: the stallion probably found something metal on the street and just beat it with a rock until it assumed a fitting form.

"Now, listen to me very closely," the young pony growled, but quietly, so the stallion with the blue shimmering coat would not hear him. "Do it quickly and quietly. Bring me the medicine, or else I will kill you. Got it?"

"Yes, sure, I got it," Valencia uttered, trying to keep her voice down. He looked extremely desperate. Just one little movement of a horn, and she would fall down with a sliced throat. But it was so hard: her ankles were shaking with fear, and the cold sweat started running down her skin. She could hardly stop shaking.

The young robber was quite smart: he put the shank to her throat in such a way that her long orange mane would hide it from the sight of the other pony here. With but a quick movement, he would be able to slice her throat and walk away quickly before he notices a thing. She should obey him and pray for a miracle.

Valencia quickly trotted away back to her office to fetch the required medicine and Sombra hid the shank under the counter, where he could easily reach it with magic. Everything went much smoother than he expected.

Sombra hadn't thought much when he entered the shop with the weapon. He never made a scheme or a plan of how exactly this would go. He was just following the stream of events, and so far, it was going where he wanted it to go.

However, this blue pony freaked Sombra out a lot. Why was he hanging around, and not leaving? Just what the Abyss did he forget here? Sombra was so frustrated and scared when he threatened Valencia, that this freak would notice it. But everything played out quite well — he didn't seem to notice anything. He didn't even turn to observe what Sombra was ordering.

Everything was going smoothly, far too smoothly. But what if it just seemed like it? What if this pony noticed everything already and was just pretending to be a simple bystander? What if he already planned to take Sombra down?

No, no, he couldn't. He couldn't take him down! He was not strong enough for it. He couldn't be stronger.

He could be stronger. He might as well be fully aware. Maybe he knew before Sombra even entered the shop.

Sombra was shaking like a leaf in the hurricane, sweat running down his face like a waterfall. Every fibre of his being was shaking and trembling, and his mind was filled with horrific words: caught, criminal, trial, punishment.

Did he really fall so low? Or was he walking this road since the beginning?

Valencia was taking too long. What was she doing there? It had been almost a minute. What was taking her so long? Sombra wanted to call her out, but kept silent, afraid to alert the stranger.

Finally, the orange colored earth pony returned, carrying several bottles with her. Sombra squinted his eyes when he noticed that the names on the bottles didn't match the ones Krystal told him.

"Are you sure you brought the right medicine?" he asked, and Valencia sighed with worry.

"Yes... they just have a different name in my language," she said. "That's all I have."

"Are you really sure?" Sombra suddenly blurted, getting angry. He didn't believe her at all. She just used his ignorance of her language to save her own skin and money. She was lying. He was sure she was!

The shard quickly shifted from its cover to Valencia's neck. She gazed at Sombra with fear, and he angrily stared at her, letting her know that he was serious. She was completely at his mercy.

"Yes... They're just called differently. I don't speak unicornian, but I know the names of the medicine... it's required... worldwide..." she started to mumble as Sombra pressed the blade harder and harder against her skin. He had no intention of hurting her, only scaring her. He focused entirely on keeping control of his nerves, in order not to slip and cut Valencia accidently.

Valencia became so pale so quickly. She literally withered before Sombra, turning from an independent mare into a weak plaything.

Sombra couldn't stop looking in her eyes, full of fear. Why were her eyes so addicting? Or was it the fear? Did he enjoy position of power?

"Got you!" Sombra's descend into philosophy was rudely interrupted as this loud, rude remark startled him, making him turn towards the source of the sound. All he was able to notice was the angry face of the blue crystal pony as he tackled Sombra down and pinned him to the ground.

This pony certainly knew what he was doing: his movements were quick and strong. Without too much of a problem, he used his weight to pin Sombra down on the floor and struck him right in the chest.

The young robber could barely recover his breath. He gasped desperately for air as the stallion struck once more, aiming right in the head this time.

Sombra's vision darkened and turned grey as the world around started to spin. He closed his eyes and relaxed his body, trying to fight back the dizziness.

"I- I think I got him," the pony exclaimed, thinking that he knocked Sombra out. He quickly turned around to Valencia.

"Are you alright, miss?"

"Yes... Oh, thank you so much! I thought I was a goner for sure!" she lamented, covering her eyes, when suddenly she started trembling and sobbing. "I... really thought he was... going to kill... me!"

"Don't worry. It's okay, he's out cold now," the stallion assured her. He gazed at Sombra once more and sighed.

"So young... Do you have a rope or something? We need to restrain him, and then give him out to the guards," he said, seeming very displeased about what he was doing. He was probably a father, so breaking a life of a pony so young must have felt atrocious for him.

Hearing the words 'restrain' and 'guards', Sombra shuddered. He... couldn't be caught. He must not be caught. He had to do something.

Sombra started to panic. If he was caught, what would happen to Krystal? To her child? He must not be caught! He couldn't be caught! He had to get out! Get out! Get out!

He couldn't let her die! Couldn't let his child die!

Sombra's horn unleashed a blinding spark as he wrapped the shard that had been lying on the floor ever since the pony tackled him in his magical aura. His attacker couldn't even react as the blade sunk deep into his flesh, right into his back.

The blue pony gasped of the sudden pain, opening his eyes widely, but Sombra wasn't going to stop. He opened his eyes at last, revealing that he was still conscious and quickly gathered up a ball of energy at the tip of his horn.

Seconds later, this small ball smashed right into the attacker's chest, knocking him back with such power that he utterly smashed through the counter, made from wood and glass, and crashed into the wall. The power of the collision was strong enough to shake the shelves and several of them fell down right on top of the poor pony.

The sharp edge of the blafr didn't cut too deep, though, as it flew into the corner, leaving a bloody trail behind, when Sombra unleashed the magical charge.

Sombra got up slowly, breathing heavily, his chest still aching from the strike it suffered. His heart was pounding faster than ever. His mane was wet from sweat, and the thumping in his ears was driving him insane.

It took a minute for Sombra to get his breath. For Valencia, it probably seemed like an eternity as Sombra breathed slowly, loudly and heavily, and her protector was lying among the broken glass and bottles that barely survived the fall. However, not only she was slowly overtaken by horror.

"Is he... dead?" Sombra whispered to himself. "Did I... kill him?"

He slowly trotted towards the pony, avoiding the small drops of blood that fell from the wound on his back during his flight across the room. It felt like a dream, a horrible dream, and Sombra wished he could wake up. Or at least see Blanket, who would confirm his suspicions that it was a dream.

He slowly approached the pony he just knocked down. And he wasn't waking up.

"Please... please!" he whispered, swiping away the pieces of wooden rubble and putting his hoof on the downed opponent's neck. The gods were merciful: he was still breathing.

Sombra backed away, letting out a sigh of relief. He was alive. Thank the Emperor.

Quickly turning around, he dashed towards the counter and rudely put his hooves right there, smashing the wooden surface so hard the bottles with medicine jumped a little bit.

"A bag! Now!" Sombra growled as menacing as he could, but Valencia hesitated for a moment, looking at her defender and then ran away.

She returned shortly afterwards, carrying a long linen scarf. It appears she didn't have anything else to serve as a bag as her costumers would usually bring their own. Sombra didn't care too much, however. When she put the scarf near the tray with the medicine, he quickly shovelled all of it on the scarf and tied its ends. It wasn't the safest way to carry something, but it wasn't too bad, Sombra thought.

He took the improvised bag, put it on his back and was about to leave, when he suddenly felt cold filling his very veins. He felt his blood freezing. He felt his mind turning into ice, as a long, complicated and logical thought visited his brain.

Witnesses, he thought to himself. She will report to the guards. She had seen what I've done. She remembered my face. She will tell.

It seemed quite logical. He was a criminal in her eyes, stole her property, hurt an innocent pony. She’d seen it all and she would tell. He knew she would tell. She had to.

Sombra walked back to her, glaring at her with emotionless eyes, while her own eyes resonated with fear.

"I gave you what you wanted! Why won't you leave? Please!" she cried, backing away and hitting the wall with her backside. "Leave me alone!"

"I can't," Sombra said. He knew he would never be the same after this. Krystal might not even forgive him. No, she wouldn't forgive him, not this time. But he had to do it for her, even if she’d think it was wrong.

Take two lives to save two.

The shank flew up into the air once more and positioned itself near Valencia's throat. Just one slice — that was all it’d take.

"P-p-please... Don't. I beg you!" she mumbled, getting down on her knees. "I have a family! Please, don't... I promise, I won't tell anypony! There's no need to do this! I beg you!"

Sombra didn't listen. He couldn't hear her words over the sounds of Krystal crying. He knew she was crying. Deep inside, she was crying. She wanted to go home.

He couldn't take it.

"I'm sorry... I have to," Sombra whispered so quietly that only he could hear it. He took a deep breath, and jerked his head to the right, preparing to end the life of this pony.

Remember your misery! Remember your pain! She deserves it! They all deserve it! He spoke in his mind, mustering up the courage to end her pathetic life. Remember Amethyst! Prepare yourself! Prepare for what you are going to do to him!

She is but a subject now! A slave, your plaything! End her life! you can do it! He screamed inside his mind, already feeling the cold taste of blood in his mouth. He already felt his hooves stain in the blood of this pony, felt her flesh tear under his vicious cuts.

He was ready. He could do it. After so many years, he would finally get his revenge for everything this world had done to him. Avenge himself! Avenge Krystal! Avenge his mother!

Kill her!

He was about to jerk his head to the right, commanding the blade to move, commanding it to end this miserable life, when he suddenly felt something heavy, something very heavy inside his chest.

“You're not like this, are you?” a painfully familiar voice reached his ears, and Sombra turned to its source.

"Mom?"

Bloodless Hooves

Willemite was standing right beside Valencia. She stood steadily, unmoving, but she seemed so... alive.

Her face was just as bright as it had been when she was still alive; her mane was carefully combed, so it wouldn't obstruct the view of her eyes. Her cheeks bloomed with colour, like she just escaped the biting cold by finding refuge in this little shop.

Sombra was staring at her without blinking, almost hypnotized by her eyes, which contrasted so much with the rest of her.

Her eyes were filled with tears and it seemed like even a single word would be enough to make her cry. Sombra could read great pain in her sight and it made him feel pathetic.

"M-mother?" he asked once again, looking at her. She didn't say anything, just reached out her hoof to him.

She looked so real... like she was always alive. Always there. Just... hiding. And now, she decided the time had come to reveal herself. She reached out her hoof to him and it was so close Sombra felt... warmth?

"Sombra..." She let out a whimper. Her voice was shaking, trembling, as she reached out to her only child. The weak, fragile whisper, that anypony wouldn't even notice, wouldn't even pay attention to, Sombra heard.

A single tear ran down her cheek. It ran quickly across her cheek, leaving a wet trail behind and fell on the floor, turning into a million tiny droplets.

Willemite kept her hoof extended, waiting for Sombra to take it. But he didn't. He couldn't. It didn't matter how much he tried, he couldn't. He couldn't reach her, and yet, she was so close, waiting for him.

"Mom!" he screamed at her, wanting to keep her attention just a little longer. Just a bit more and he would be free!

But Willemite couldn't wait. She closed her eyes as more tears flowed down her pretty face. She closed her eyes, but she didn't make even a sound, not a single sob.

"Mother!" Sombra finally broke his invisible bounds, and rushed towards her. The blade he’d held so tightly with his magic seconds before fell on the floor. He couldn't care less about it now.

"Mother! Wait!" he screamed, running towards her, and even though she seemed to be within his reach, he couldn't chase her down.

"Mother!"

Another scream, this time, aimed at the void.

Sombra opened his eyes and saw nothing. She was gone. She left. He’d let her leave.

He heard the loud breathing of Valencia, who struggled to keep herself from panicking. Sombra turned around and unleashed another sphere of energy, aiming at her head. It knocked her out cold.

Sombra took a look around the shop, then finally grabbed the parcel with the medicine. Before he left, he kicked the would-be weapon of murder into the corner.

He struggled to suppress the tears that gathered in his eyes as the image of his mother looking at him with her eyes full of tears was deeply engraved in his memory.

"No.... I'm not like this," he whispered, giving the final answer to this dilemma.

Just as he reached an empty valley, he leaned on the wall, put the parcel on the snow and cried. He knew he shouldn't, he hadn't cried for a long time, for real, but now, he just couldn't stop it. Her sad look cut his heart worse than any weapon, and her silent grief made him feel... so guilty.

After giving himself a moment of emotion, he swiped away the remaining tears, took a deep breath and immediately felt sick, as he realized what this strange vision had saved him from.

Maybe it was his brain, playing tricks on him. Maybe Willemite really did come back just for this moment. It didn't matter, in the long run. This strange vision saved him from falling even further.

He wasn't a killer. He didn't become one. A thief, weakling, a pathetic excuse of a stallion, anything, but he wasn't a killer.

After suppressing the bile that crawled up his throat, Sombra hurried up back to his hideout. Krystal couldn't wait any longer. He needed to deliver the medicine as fast as he could.

***

Krystal's coughs echoed through the room. With each cough she felt a little essence of her life disappear. With each cough she felt herself getting weaker as she was losing more and more blood.

It was a nightmare. Krystal thought her main problem would be the choking attacks. But she was wrong.

The towel Sombra gave her was almost completely brown with her dried blood and there were quite a few stains on the mattress already. Her pillow was wet as the fever frequently took over her, making her sweat and causing her to rave.

The constant taste of her own blood in her mouth made her feel nauseous and sick, but all this mass just stayed in her throat, refusing to climb further. Swallowing felt like she tried to fill the cup that was already full.

She didn't feel alive and, at times, she wished the death would come for her, but the warmth in her belly reminded her constantly that she had to preserve her life, to give a start to a new one. So, she would drive away those thoughts and try to sleep until she began coughing again.

Torment. This is what it was.

Suddenly, Krystal heard the creaks of the opening door. She rose from her bed and looked at her guest.

"Sombra! You—" She started coughing again. Her horn quickly lit up as she levitated the towel towards herself and covered her mouth with it. Several drops still fell on the blanket, leaving several big red stains.

Sombra quickly ran up to her and helped her to lie down.

"So much blood..." Sombra turned pale at such a sight. Krystal hurried to calm him down, by smiling, but her smile look weak and fake with the stains of blood on her lips.

"It's okay... It's just temporary... It will go away," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Tell me you have the medicine..."

Sombra put the parcel away and hugged Krystal.

"Yes. Yes, I do! What do we do now?" he asked, but Krystal didn't say anything as she momentarily lost conciseness. "Krystal! Talk to me! Krystal! Krystal!"

She closed her eyes and stopped moving, but her chest was still going up and down. She was still breathing. She was still alive.

However, her skin was getting paler with every moment passing. Sombra had to act quickly or he would lose her.

"Come on, Krystal! Don't you dare! Don't you fucking dare!" he growled, opening the parcel and desperately looking for the needed medicine. But what could he know about these brews? He didn't even know what each of them was for let alone how to apply it. He didn't even know what they were made of!

He constantly mumbled cuss words to himself as he desperately twirled the bottles in the air, trying to figure out which of them he should open and use first. Finally, he set his sight on a bottle full of black, weirdly smelling goo that stretched instead of flowing like any normal liquid.

"Come on, Sombra, think! Think, you idiot!" he shouted at himself. After a little bit of a struggle, he opened the bottle, and decided to try its contents. He carefully tilted it, until some of the goo crawled on the edge of it and gave it a lick.

His stomach almost imploded from the horrendous, vomit inducing taste this concoction possessed. Sombra coughed violently, scratching his tongue against his own teeth, trying to get rid of the taste as fast as he could.

So, this is how my food tastes, he thought to himself. This goo was certainly inedible, but everything else didn't seem that tasty too.

Suddenly, he remembered a little moment back from his early childhood. That time, when he tried to swim in the pond, and caught a terrible cold. Willemite rubbed some kind of goo onto his chest then. It felt warm, even hot. After a while, he stopped coughing and his temperature decreased a little bit.

Sombra smiled. Once again his mother was helping him; this time more passively, though, but still. He took a deep breath, and poured some of the goo on his hooves.

There was no time to waste. He had to hurry up.

He threw the blanket away, and started vigorously rubbing the black goo into Krystal's chest, in the area of thorax. It stuck to her fur, her quiet moans and rattles struck worry and fear into the young stallion's heart, but he didn't back away, knowing that it may hurt now, but later, she would thank him.

After Krystal's chest was almost black from the goo, he backed away, thinking of how he can help her preserve warmth now.

Of course, he covered her with a blanket immediately after he finished the procedure. Then, he threw some more wood into the dying fire and helped it with a weak fireball. The little ball exploded into a small cloud of sparks and breathed new life into this dying flame.

That was all he could do apart from activating the warmth share spell, but that wasn't an option - he was too tired and exhausted by the long walk to the pharmacy and back, as well as his emotional experiences. Something made him think these were the signs of his insanity, but all of these thoughts were abandoned as they all were unimportant. His health wasn't important right now.

Sombra decided to give Krystal warmth an old fashioned way. He quickly slipped under the blanket to her and wrapped his forehooves around her. She coughed a few times, which was a sign of progress - maybe she'll regain her conciseness soon.

"I'm here, my dear. You just... get well. Please, be well," he whispered and leaned his head closer to her.

He had to stay awake to see if Krystal awakens, so he could treat her immediately. So, instead of closing his eyes, he thought, asking himself the same question over and over again.

What happened in the pharmacy? Was it really his mother, her ghost? Or a mental projection of his conciseness that tried to prevent him from making a horrible mistake? Or maybe the hallucinations of the Dust had returned to make him succumb into addiction?

He had seen such weird stuff when under its effects. Maybe there was a chance that, if he controls the dose, he could control the hallucinations it causes as well? Sombra felt his heart shudder at a thought that he might have a chance to re-live the happiest memories of his childhood.

He took a deep breath and let that thought go. It was highly unlikely that he would be able to dose it without getting addicted and the idea of seeing his mother paled before the dream of seeing his family.

He, Krystal and his little child. That was the family he needed to think about right now. The family he needed to protect.

***

Krystal had been sleeping for quite a while now, but at least, she was actually sleeping, not unconscious. Her breath was normal, her temperature stabilized and she even snored once in a while. Meanwhile, Sombra, immediately after making sure Krystal was feeling better, was preparing a meal for her.

His stomach growled as he threw the vegetables into the boiling water, making him realize that he hadn't eaten for quite a while. For how many days — two, three, four, maybe even six? Sombra looked at the big head of cabbage and wondered: just how did traders keep their stock fresh? Magic?

No, no, earth ponies don't have magic, Sombra thought to himself, wrapping the cabbage in his grey aura and taking a bite out of it. The juice filled his mouth, making his stomach growl a little less.

How did they keep their stock fresh, though? Sombra brainstormed it a bit, picking an apple, a pear and another cabbage head to eat while thinking.

His little meal kept him a little too occupied as his hunger finally found its release. He quickly ate the apple and then started taking the bites off the cabbage, when he heard loud breathing behind him. He quickly turned around, and saw Krystal staring at him. The blanket covered only half of her body as she sat on the bed, breathing heavily.

"Krystal!" Sombra exclaimed, putting down the half eaten cabbage and turning around. "Krystal, I was so worried!"

"Sombra, I- I feel so much better," she said, and forced a weak smile out of herself. "Did I... fall asleep, or something? I remember how you entered, I wanted to greet you, but then everything went dark."

"You passed out, Krystal. You won't believe how much you scared me!" Sombra said, approaching her. "I just didn't know what to do!"

"But you did something... and now I feel so much better. My chest hurts much less," she rubbed her chest, then moved on to her belly. "Did I... say anything in my sleep?"

"Huh?" Sombra was surprised by such a question. "No, you didn't... as far as I can remember."

"Good... I just had a very weird dream... I was floating away somewhere... and there were screams... so weird," she said. She looked much better than before. Her skin had brightened up and she seemed quite energetic.

"It's just a dream. Forget about it," Sombra said, approaching her. "I made you a soup. Do you want to eat?"

She shook her head in response.

"No, not really... Sombra, what did you do when I fell unconscious? Did you try to apply any medicine?" she said, with anxiety and worry in her voice.

"Yes, I did. The black goo, which you're supposed to rub into a pony's chest. I think that's why you're feeling better," Sombra theorized.

"Oh, thank the Emperor," Krystal gasped with relief.

"Krystal, I'm not that stupid," Sombra replied with offense. "When it's better for me not to do something, I won't do it."

"Sorry, honey, I didn't want to offend you!" Krystal said, giggling. "Some of these brews can be extremely toxic when applied at incorrect time. None of them are fatal but some can... hurt the child."

Sombra sighed heavily and looked at the bottles on the table.

"Anything... anything but that..." he whispered. "So, what do we do now? Do you still need the rest of this stuff?"

"Yes," Krystal said. "I know how to use it... Let's hope it helps. Because... I am really worried about what kind of ailment I have."

"Relax," Sombra assured her. "We'll make it through this. I promise."

He approached the table and touched several bottles. The liquids in them looked very alike, only differing in colours.

"I'll make the needed preparations and you just tell me what to do, okay?" Sombra asked. "We'll get you back to health in no time. I promise."

"You promise a lot," Krystal joked, coughing a bit. "But you're right. Let's proceed."

***

"You know that having a bonfire inside a structure that can be easily set aflame isn't safe, right?" Krystal asked, looking at the flame dancing. She moved a little closer to the fire, extending her hoof towards it.

The blanket she used as protection to prevent her backside from getting frozen had a lot of holes in it, exposing the 'meat', which consisted of feathers. Sombra felt a little embarrassed that he didn't take a nicer cover for his beloved.

"Yes, I do. But what else could I have done?" Sombra replied. "Besides, I made it as safe as possible".

Krystal didn’t reply thereto and her horn lit up as she levitated a short stick and poked the smouldering charcoal. The flame livened up a bit and the soup started boiling faster.

"I didn't have that much time to think," Sombra continued. "It all happened so suddenly... you just wandered into the summer house and..."

He made a long pause, looking at her.

"What happened, anyway? I never got a chance to ask you," he said, moving closer to her. Krystal took a deep breath and touched the pendant on her neck.

Sombra felt a little guilty as this was clearly a delicate subject for Krystal to talk about. Something really serious had happened and it was possible that Sombra was poking a hornet's nest right now. Maybe he should retract that question and leave it be? What was the use of it, anyway?

No. He needed to know. Maybe it was something he could help her with. Maybe everything could be changed still.

"I don't expect you to understand. It's a noble tradition, and it won't make much sense to you," Krystal said in a saddened voice. "It's called Meet Off".

Krystal explained what the Meet Off was all about. She mustered all her memory and remembered every single detail she knew. As she spoke, Sombra face contorted more and more.

"And then, when the contract is signed, the future husband picks a day. On that day, when the bride agrees, or when she is... forced to, they meet at a certain place at a certain time. The bride's parents as well; their presence is required to ensure that their daughter's virginity is taken," she glanced at Sombra for a moment, and noticed that his face was red.

"It is said only a parent can tell if their child is innocent anymore..." she finished her speech, and almost jumped from the loud sound as Sombra smashed his forehooves into the ground.

"Who do they think they are?!" Sombra growled menacingly. "They just... just... sold you! Sold you to some prick for a piece of land and recognition!"

"Bastards!" Sombra roared, his horn starting to crackle with dark energies.

"Sombra, calm down! There's nothing we can do about it now. Just relax," Krystal tried to calm him down, but he wouldn't listen.

"These bastards! How could they do this to you?! They are your parents! They're supposed to be your family!" he continued to shout. Krystal regretted ever telling him. “I refuse to believe that parents can be that cold!”

Krystal didn't believe it too. But she accepted this fact. This was how the noble society worked. This was their way of life.

"This is... this is barbaric! This is disgusting!" Sombra continued to growl and Krystal reached out for him.

"Please... sit with me, Sombra," she said quietly. Sombra gazed at her, and his eyes slowly became clear of anger. He sat down near her and Krystal wrapped her forehooves around him, the tip of her horn touching Sombra's one, engulfed in dark energies. Slowly, but steadily, they dissipated.

"Sombra, I understand your anger, but please... I've already suffered. Don't pour more salt on my wound, and don't concern yourself with my old pain," she whispered into his ear. "You're my only family now."

Sombra shuddered at the mention of this word. His own family... He just couldn't get over it. His own family. He tilted his head closer to her, his horn scratching hers a bit.

"You know... I wanted to tell you my idea earlier... But I never had a chance," he said in a calm voice. "So, I thought... what if you and I run away from Crystal City... somewhere to the west, into the Gryphon Dominion. We'll find a forest, close to the Great Ocean, build ourselves a house... then you'll give birth to an adorable daughter..."

"Wait, you want a daughter?" Krystal asked, looking quite surprised. "I thought you’d be the type to prefer a son."

"Heh... If we have a son, he would look like me. The second me... doesn't sound like a good idea. But a mare like you — our daughter would save this world from decay. She would save the world with beauty", he said, and kissed her gently on the cheek.

"Ooh, you!" Krystal replied, coughing several times. "Stupid sore throat.”

"You've gotten so much better... This medicine worked, surprisingly enough," Sombra noted. "And here I thought that earth ponies could only make good bread."

"Well, they don't actually make these brews. They're made in Unicorn Kingdom, then sold to Earthville, who then sell it all throughout the known world," Krystal explained.

"How complicated," Sombra said, looking at the kettle. "Oh, the soup's ready! Do you want some?"

"Oh, yes, I definitely need to eat something," Krystal said, rubbing her belly. "You need food too, don't you? Ouch... Hee-hee, I think he can hear us!"

"You mean, 'she' can hear us," Sombra corrected her, moved closer to her and put his ear against her belly. "Do you think she'll be... soft?"

Krystal looked at him with surprise.

"Soft? Well, I think so. Every child is 'soft' when it's born."

"No, I didn't mean that. I meant if... her fur would be soft. That would be so cool," he whispered, closing his eyes, and, for a moment, his mind drifted away into a fantasy.

How would his daughter look like? He didn't know, but... he wanted her to look like Krystal - just as pretty, happy looking and pudgy. Krystal's whole uniqueness was in pudginess. She wouldn't be herself without it.

Of course, she would have long mane. She would fiddle around with it, trying to comb it, or struggle to make it into a braid. Then, finally, she would ask him or Krystal for help, and they would come to her aid.

Sombra suddenly turned pale, thinking: what if his daughter would inherit his manners? Just the thought of that seemed weird.

He couldn't imagine his daughter taking up a cigarette, going around and beating up ponies. That image was far too scary, but funny at the same time. He even snickered at it a bit.

"What's so funny?" Krystal asked him, snapping Sombra out of his dream.

"Ugh... nothing. Just dreaming, that's all," he replied. "Let's get to eating, shall we?"

Unfortunately, Sombra managed to get only one bowl, so they had to eat together at the same time, so the soup wouldn't turn cold.

They took turns, drinking out of the bowl. Sombra tried to drink less, so Krystal could have most of it — she was the one bearing the child. After all, the unborn filly needed food, too.

The wind continued to howl outside and the blizzard got even stronger. Soon, all the sounds that could be heard outside were replaced by wind.

"Krystal, you should go back to bed. It's getting colder," Sombra advised her. Krystal got up, still unsure on her feet, and slowly walked towards him, reeling.

"I will... Just walk with me for a bit. I've been lying in that bed for so long... and I don't think it dried out yet," she said shyly, and Sombra took a look at the mattress. Yes, she was right: it was damp with sweat. Sombra sighed heavily and let her lean on him. Every step, even with Sombra's help, was accompanied by a pain-filled rattle and a piercing pain in her chest, so they were walking slowly, carefully making their way around the abandoned hospital.

"Krystal... I wanted to ask: how did your mother react to your pregnancy? Did she... try to stop your father?" Sombra asked, when he and Krystal approached the window and peered the storm outside.

"No..." Krystal replied, leaning on Sombra. "She said nothing... nothing at all."

"That's... That's so cruel. Mothers should always listen, she should always understand, always be by your side," he sighed, tormented by the visions of his own mother and her kindness. His image of mother, forever embodied by Willemite, could not comprehend such cold towards her child. It was unimaginable.

"Yes... Yes, it is. But that is how the world of nobles works. Once you're an outcast, there's nowhere to expect help from. Nopony will help you," Krystal whispered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"World of nobles... It sounds even colder than the world of commoners... And I cannot imagine a world colder than mine," Sombra said. Indeed, the world where you had to survive on your own was harsh, unforgiving, but at least, even in the bleakest of situations, you still had a fragment of hope.

In Krystal's world, once you stray from the path your elders have set for you... you're as good as dead. Or even worse: they mock you, torment you until you fall down on your knees and howl at the sky in despair, begging for pain to stop, while they're just preparing another set of needles to inject the poison with.

Their worlds were so different...

Sombra looked outside the window, the white gust devouring the world outside, consuming everything in the biting cold. What a fitting metaphor. What a fitting weather.

Krystal's world — a beauty on the outside sparkling with the offer of a comfortable and stable life, protected by the thick walls from the raging inferno of cold. Life strived and bloomed behind these walls of ignorance, bones as its foundation and fortified by trenches of blood. Show one weakness in this utopia and you’d be struck down, chased away into the raging blizzard to be torn and eaten by savages, savages like Sombra.

It was hurtful to realize that you're only garbage to those you look up to, but it was the truth. When he was just a little foal, Sombra looked up to great lords and politicians, but now, he had seen their true nature — cold, bitter, obsessed with their own little world and hate-filled towards those who didn't fill their form of their equal.

Poor Krystal... All this time, she was living like royalty, but under those linen covers and puffy pillows, there were thorns.

"Come here." Sombra nuzzled Krystal, wrapping his forelegs around her. "I wish I could shield you from all the evil in the world. I wish I could protect you from all the harm... and the bad thoughts that come into your head... Sorry... for being such a bad protector."

"You're the best protector a mare could wish for, Sombra. Don't go so heavy on yourself," she whispered, resting her head on his chest. She felt so warm and soft right now, just like back then.

"I'll... I'll try. Now, you should go to sleep. Or, at least rest. Our child needs a lot of energy," Sombra said, kissing Krystal on the forehead.

Some minutes later, Krystal was lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, while Sombra fiddled around with the bonfire. They both were silent... but Sombra could still taste her on his lips.

"I wish I had a book to read," Krystal muttered. "It's boring here".

"I know, my precious... I can sing you a song if you want," Sombra offered, and Krystal giggled weakly.

"No, thank you..." she declined and then went silent. The silence dragged on, on and on. Suddenly, she started speaking once more.

"Sombra... if we have a daughter... how will we name her? What would be a good name for our child?"

"I don't really know, but.... How about... Nora?"

"Nora? That's a weird name... Is it even Crystallian? Where did you get this one?"

"Nowhere... just came up with it... Thought it sounds cute... Does it?"

"It does, a little bit... Has some northern feel to it... I like it," Krystal said. "And if it's a colt? How about Sombra?"

"What? Two Sombras is too much for me to handle!"

"Your name is unique. We should make it into a lineage. It must never be forgotten," Krystal said, wrapping herself in the blanket.

"Ha-ha-ha... Well, then, if you say so. If it's a colt, then Sombra the Second it shall be!"

Krystal put her head on the pillow and stared on the ceiling. The illness slowly returned, chaining her limbs with weakness and weariness. She could barely move.

"Hey, Krystal? Isn't it too early to sleep right now? It's just afternoon," he noted.

"I'm not sleeping... I just feel... weak," Krystal replied. She, however, wasn't worried at all.

"What? Should I—"

"No, Sombra, it's okay. The medicine is finally kicking in. Temporary weakness — it's the sign that my immune system is finally doing its job... Just keep us warm, and tomorrow, I'll be as good as new".

"O-okay, Krystal, if you think that's right... I'll watch over the fire; you just rest," Sombra said and focused his attention on the fire, while Krystal just closed her eyes and let her body rest

Happy End

The world was silent around them. The wind finally calmed down from its brutal rampage, and now, there was only snow peacefully falling down on the ground.

The moon was high above the clouds and its light couldn't come through the thick layer of clouds.

The whole world seemed to have fallen asleep. There was nopony on the streets; the windows of most houses were dark, only several had little lights dancing in them.

The night was silent, calm, beautiful. Nothing could disturb this dark peace, only the weak wind whistled through the alleys and rattled the window lattices. Occasionally, a rat would run across the street, leaving a tiny trail in the snow.

Suddenly, a loud, blood-chilling shriek pierced the air, echoing across the street one single time and then fading into nothing. It didn't disturb anypony's sleep... but one.

Sombra lifted his heavy eyelids and felt dumb pain shooting through his head. He was dragged out of his sleep and as his brain still tried to process the world around him and wake up from his slumber. He, reeling from side to side, stood up and looked around.

Even though the scream was loud, he couldn't figure out where it had come from. Was it close, or far away? His sleep-intoxicated mind couldn't come up with any ideas. Not even a single one.

Another scream pierced his eardrums, and, when he finally figured out who was screaming, his blood stood still. The scream was so close to him. His Krystal was screaming.

He dashed towards her bed and fell over immediately, his head engulfed by endless pain that squeezed his head like metal clamps. Exhaustion got to him, at last, but he fought it back, fought back the dizziness and pain and walked on. Why was she screaming? What happened?

In addition to pain, fear and worry gripped Sombra's mind. Horrific thoughts filled his head, as he rushed to Krystal's bed.

"Krystal? Krystal, what is with you?" he asked, coming near her. It was so dark that he couldn't even see her face, even though he leaned on the bed. He mustered his courage and lit a small light on the tip of his horn. Several seconds later, he had wished he hadn't.

Krystal's face was white as chalk, and the expression she had was that of pain. Tears were streaming down her pale cheeks and her eyes were muddy and red.

"My...my chest...." Krystal mumbled, before unleashing another shriek as the pain in her chest struck once again

"Krystal... Krystal, stop it! This isn't funny! Stop!" Sombra said, thinking she was playing tricks on him. A single look of her swollen, tear-filled eyes was enough to prove to Sombra that this was no joke.

"So-Sombra... I—“ She coughed, quickly covering her mouth with her right hoof. When the coughing finally ceased, she muttered:

"Sombra... I don't want to die..."

"Don't talk like this! We just need to give you some more medicine! Just you wait! Wait!" Sombra shouted loudly. He quickly rushed to the table where he left the medicine and wrapped the bottle of analgesic in his magical aura. Then, he dashed back to Krystal.

"Come on, Krystal. Just drink it!" he urged, touching her hoof and moving it away. Krystal shook her head, refusing to obey him.

"No...no...no!" She muttered, her voice sounding strange as she was gurgling something. "No! No!"

He forcefully moved away her hoof and he saw blood dripping from her lips. However, he steadied his heart and proceeded to move the bottle closer to her.

"Come on, Krystal. Just open your mouth. We did this before. I know it's yucky, but you have to withstand this. Come on!" he pleaded.

Finally, Krystal touched the tip of the bottle with her lips and slowly sucked the transparent liquid from the bottle. From time to time, she would cough, several small drops of blood running down her neck. Sombra held the bottle, afraid that she would throw away, being in this state of panic. She was like a child right now: scared of everything, afraid to think clearly. This pain took her by surprise.

"There we go... Now, now, it's okay. It's okay," Sombra whispered, after Krystal emptied the bottle. "You must not worry. It's bad for the child."

"It... it didn't help," Krystal whispered. Sombra's ear twitched.

"What... what did you say?"

"The medicine... it didn't help... I thought it would help... but it didn't," she muttered. Sombra's blood turned cold.

"What the Abyss are you talking about?" he turned pale. How could it not help? It was supposed to help. What is she talking about?!

"I... was wrong. I was wrong about the medicine... It didn't help... They told me it would help... but it didn't," Krystal's voice was shaking, trembling, her body shivering.

"Who? Who told you?!"

"My parents... Long ago... they told me that I shouldn't stay out in the cold for too long... Else I would have to drink all of... this," she pointed at the table where the medicine was. "I thought that... it would help."

"Krystal, it will help! Relax," Sombra tried to calm her down. "It just needs time to kick in. Give it some time, a day or two! You'll get better, and we'll run away together!"

Krystal looked at him, and suddenly burst into tears. She hugged Sombra and stuck her muzzle into his chest. His body shuddered as her cold tears touched his skin.

"It won't help... Sombra... I... I don't want to die... I don't want to die."

"Shut up!" Sombra screamed, his eyes tearing up too. "Nopony will die today! I'll save you! So stop talking nonsense!"

Krystal only hugged him harder and they spent the next ten minutes in silence, only interrupted by Krystal's silent sobs. Then, suddenly, she let him free and lied down on her pillow.

"Sombra... Tell me... if I am gone, will you remember me?"

"Shu-shut u—" Sombra muttered, his voice drowning in sobs. "You... you won't..."

"Just answer. Please."

"I- I will."

She turned her head, looking at him, and then forced a weak smile.

"I feel cold... I feel so cold... It's close. I can feel it," she uttered.

"Feel what?" he asked, swiping away a single tear. He couldn't stand to see her suffer like this. He wanted to do something, give her something, cast a spell to ease her pain. But he didn't know what spell, or what medicine could help her.

"Sombra... If we’d had a colt... would you love him just as much as you would a filly?"

"What a stupid question. Of course I would," he said, feeling even worse as she used that subjunctive.

"I believe you. I know you're speaking truth. Even when you hurt me at times, lie to me, I still know you're kind inside," she extended her hoof and touched his chest, right where his heart was. "I can feel it... Thump.... thump."

Sombra got closer to her and put his ear against her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

"You have the same thumps too! So don't talk like this!" he exclaimed. "Can you hear them? Thump... Thump..."

"Are you... crying?" She suddenly asked. How couldn't she notice before?

"No. I'm... not," Sombra replied, his voice barely keeping still. "I'm a stallion. I'm not allowed to. I mustn't."

"That's a very silly drama trope. Everypony cries. There’s no shame in that."

"No. There is shame. I'm supposed to be strong, so you can feel safe when I'm around you. You have to rely on me, you have to trust me."

"Just because you cry doesn't mean you're weak. It just means that you’re alive. Now I know..." she touched his cheek. "That you had a soft spot for me. That's... so nice of you. I thought I would leave forgotten, and nopony would remember me — a rich filly, who thought fairytales were real."

"Sombra... you have to leave before it starts... I don't want you to see or hear me... I'm afraid you can't handle it," she whispered.

"I won't leave you, Krystal! I'll stay here. I'll save you!"

"Oh... you silly foal," she whispered quietly.

Her pendant flickered, reflecting the light of Sombra's horn. Having noticed it, Krystal touched it and her horn lit up as she took it off. Sombra stared at her, having no idea what she was doing.

"In this pendant, I kept all those who were my family... Remember? Back there, in the theatre?"

"Yes... Your dad with a moustache."

"Exactly... Now..." she extended her hoof to him, handing him the pendant. "It's yours."

"Why... are you giving me this? You said you treasure it. It's yours forever!"

"No, Sombra. I don't treasure it. I treasure my family... So, please, take it... in the memory of me."

Sombra hesitated, but accepted her gift and took a long good look at her. In her eyes, there was pain, sadness... and peace. Looking her in the eyes had made him happy once, but now...

"Hold me... It's cold here... I don't want to feel cold."

He accomplished her wish. He wrapped his forehooves around her and pressed her against himself as hard as he could. He could feel her body getting colder. He could see her eyes getting darker. He could feel her soul... escaping.

"It will all be alright. You'll get better. We'll get better, anyway. It's nothing really. We've been through worse, haven't we? This is nothing," Sombra rambled. "You'll get better, and then we'll run away, far, far away from my father, from your parents, from this city. I'll be a good husband and build ourselves a nice, big house. Two floors... no, three! Three floors. The first one for guests, the second us for you and me, and the third one for the children. They'll have so much fun on the top floor; they will be able to see far, see all other ponies playing and looking around. They would make lots of friends — true friends, good friends. They will find their true love, too. They will love truly, wholeheartedly, like you and I. Our love was true, right, Krystal?"

There was no answer.

"Krystal?"

No answer followed.

"... Krystal?"

He looked into her eyes once more, only to see them closed. Her body was cold, and her face was devoid of colour, an expression of deep sadness stuck on her face for all eternity. He listened to her heart...

But heard only silence.

***

It felt like a dream. Like a long, bad dream, that just wouldn't end. Till the last moment, as Sombra dug the grave, he hoped he would wake up from the sound of Krystal shouting at him to wake up.

He had walked to the park, carrying her on her back. She was heavy, very heavy, but he walked on, like a zombie, without a purpose. After an hour of searching in the snow-filled park, where they loved to walk around, he had finally found a secluded spot. There, he started digging.

He was digging for a long time, with his bare hooves. He didn't feel cold or pain. he just dug on. He dug until it was big enough for her.

She looked so lonely. She looked so lonely in this pit. Sombra couldn't bear looking at her any longer. He couldn't stand her motionless face, which used to be full of life. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't.

***

The grave... was completed. He’d buried her at last. For a tombstone, he picked the branch of a nearby birch that seemed the most beautiful to him.

Time passed on as Sombra sat in front of the grave, looking at the tubercle on the ground. He felt... relieved. It was the most horrible point of this dream, thus he would wake up soon. He always woke up when it seemed like there was no hope. He should wake up.

He wasn't waking up.

Slowly and carefully, Sombra wrapped his newly acquired pendant in the grey aura, and took a long look at it. Its golden surface was flickering in the moonlight. He opened it and gazed upon the family Krystal treasured so much.

Her father, her mother and herself, as a small filly. Even back then she already looked puffy and cuddly.

Suddenly, Sombra noticed something weird. The edge of this picture was all rough and jammed, and stuck out as if... there was something else under it. He quickly grabbed the edge of it with his teeth and pulled.

The picture came off easily, revealing another one under it. It was self-drawn, quite sloppily, in black and white, probably with a simple pencil. But he recognized who was on this picture.

It was him. Though the lines were pretty sloppy around his horn, and the mane was badly coloured, probably because Krystal was shaking when drawing this, he still recognized himself on the picture.

"Krystal... you... you..." he uttered, finally losing it. He looked at the fresh grave, then at his portrait, at the grave, and at the picture again.

He lost control.

"No!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, collapsing on the ground, drowning in his own tears.

It wasn't a dream.

It was reality.

He was not going to wake up.

His body collapsed on the ground. His dreams collapsed into the void. His life collapsed into the pit of despair.

Krystal was dead and he did nothing to prevent that. He just let her fade. He let his love disappear.

The wind shook the lonely birch tombstone and the snow continued to rain all over the world. Nothing could shield the young stallion from his despair.

Sombra lay in the snow, near Krystal's grave, crying bitterly. His mind was filled with nothing but memories of her and his heart slowly turned to ice, frozen by the realization that he killed his love.

"Why.... why you?" he whispered to himself through his own sobs. Why was it her that the fate decided to take away.

Rage and bitter hate filled his soul. Hate for himself, and the hate for the world. Why, why was it still there, when she was gone? This world couldn't exist without her! It was empty. It was useless. It was dead.

He was lying in the snow, drowning in his own sadness. He didn't know what to do anymore. Everything seemed so pale and dark. He saw nothing.

Nothing but darkness in his way. His only source of light was lost. And he was lost, too.

Lost, in the darkness.

He cried like a little child. A child, abandoned in the woods by everypony it considered family. Parents, friends, toys — everypony was gone. He was alone, left alone in this world. Cold, big, scary world, and he was just a little child.

All hope was lost. Everything Sombra had ever loved was gone — his mother, and now, Krystal. He couldn't see a way out of it. He couldn't see a solution. He saw only darkness.

An hour had passed before Sombra turned silent. He started feeling again; he started to see once more. Getting up, he gazed on the grave.

"All our dreams... were they all for nothing, then? Everything we had planned together, everything we made — all that was for nothing? We had dreams... we had hopes... We... were supposed to be together... but... but..."

He covered his face with his hoof in shame.

He looked into the sky, tears falling from his eyes.

"If anypony.... if anything is up there... anything, that made this world possible... please, answer... Please, help me. I can't go onward without her. I am nothing... Whatever is up there, please, come down, and... and save her!"

He really believed for a moment, that his voice could reach the heavens. He really believed something was up there, listening. There had to be a great judge, a great king or queen, who ruled over the world. They had to come down and help him. They had to.

"Please! I beg of you! Help me! Save her!" he cried into the sky. "Take me instead of her! She didn't deserve this! The child didn't deserve this! Bring them back!"

He stood in the moonlight, waiting. He looked into the sky and prayed that an all powerful being would come down and help, give an advice, calm him... help him bring her back. For a moment he started believing in miracles. For a moment he started thinking that there was hope.

The illusions were short-lived, however.

No answer followed his plea. Sombra stood, gazing into an empty sky, where nopony resided.

His sight shifted back to her grave.

Yes... of course. What was I thinking? He thought to himself. It was her thing to believe in fairytales... not yours. There's nopony up there. There are no divine beings, and if there are, they know nothing about justice... because this isn't justice.

"This is unfair.... This is unfair!" he screamed, crying and looking at the grave. "Why do you have to die while all of them still live?! Why do you have to die, while they still draw breath?! This isn't fair! This isn’t fair!"

He covered his face, thinking of everypony who didn't deserve life: Amethyst, Krystal's family, His teachers, Sweet Tooth, the guards, Star Gem.

They all were sinners; they all took part in their suffering. And yet, they still walked the earth... while Krystal was gone.

"Why are they all alive... why aren't they dead.... why you? Why you?!" he screamed, thinking that Krystal would hear him. "Why do you have to leave me.... while they... are still there..."

"And why.... why do you have to take... my child along with you?"

There was no answer... and even if Krystal could still talk to him... would she answer, anyway? Maybe the providence just accomplished what he really wanted. Maybe he never wanted the child and this was the only way.

But Sombra knew it was all a lie. Even if it took so much time to realize it, he couldn't dream of a better gift than hugging his little kid. A dream that had been smashed harder than every other he’d had, never to be restored.

"I'll... I'll never forget you... my love..." Sombra said, putting the pendant on his neck.

The light was gone from his life as Sombra walked away from her grave. He headed home, for there was nowhere to go anymore. His life was in ruins, and his hopes were gone. Now, he just wanted some peace. He wanted to be left alone... forever, never to be disturbed.

He needed some time alone. With himself, in the comfort of his room, and a lot of sleep.

He prayed that Blanket would come this night; he felt the need to pour his feelings out, he couldn't keep them inside. There was just too much. Just too much. And there was nopony he could tell.

Nopony, but himself and his imaginary mare of dreams. He didn't have anypony. Sombra was alone once more.

***

Sombra cringed from the horrible pain in his chest, as he approached his little wooden house. The door, like usual, was open, though it wasn't exactly welcoming. Over the time, the wood started to darken; no proper care was taken to prevent rot.

A distinct smell of dampness reached his nostrils. It wasn't so noticeable before; it seemed that the ice in the basement had melted earlier than expected. Previously, this smell would only appear in spring when that ice turned into water.

Sombra quickly passed through the hallway, quickly stepping over the trash and junk that was lying on the floor and slipped into his room before his father could notice him. The window in his room was boarded up, and it wasn't the only one. Ever since Sombra finished 7th grade, Amethyst's laziness started to remind its owner of its existence and, when the landlord came to collect, of course, he had no money to pay, and the landlord had promised, that he and Sombra would be out of this house in no time.

That was what he’d said. Sombra had never seen him again. It appeared that the old pony just plain forgot.

With his head devoid of thoughts, Sombra collapsed on his messy, dusty bed. The blanket quickly turned wet from the molten water and sweat, and the carcass of the bed creaked under his weight, threatening to break.

Sombra turned round, looking at the ceiling, images of her smile, her laughter... her tears tormenting him to no end. He prayed for it to stop, for the memories to leave him alone.

They had their moments... they had a lot of moments. They were close to losing each other... but they got back together. Everything was supposed to be alright. Everything had to turn out better than this! Differently! Not like this!

A loud scream of anger and despair was stuck inside Sombra's throat. He didn't want to alert anypony. He just wanted to disappear. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted the light to shine.

He wanted everything to be different. He wanted to go home, and yet, there was no home to speak of. He had no home, and no family.

The sound of hoofsteps alerted him, but they couldn't break them out of his trance. Nothing could. Not even a loud explosion. If the world ceases to exist, he would not even flinch.

Life lost all its meaning.

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sounds of door opening. Sombra's stomach grumbled, and he felt like he could belch from the stench of alcohol that burst into his room. The voice he hated so much reached his ears, echoing in his brain as if he was drunk.

"He-ey, you, belfry!" Amethyst muttered gloomily. "Where have you been?"

Strange. His father never cared so much to ask him where he was. It seemed to Sombra that his secrecy during every escape was unnecessary; Amethyst would have just ignored him.

"At school," Sombra replied bitterly. He didn't want to fight. He just wanted to be left alone. The anger had almost dispersed, why did father had to enter now? Why couldn't he leave him be?

"Oh, really? At school? I love fairytales, tell me more!" He barged into his room, only reeling a little.

"Leave me alone," Sombra whispered, so quietly his father couldn't even hear him. Now, he regretted not locking the door.

"I'm not leaving you alone, you little brat!" Amethyst shouted, approaching the broken stallion and throwing an empty envelope at him. "I finally found out! I should have seen it long ago!"

Sombra slowly turned to him, but never looked him in the eyes. He couldn't look him in the eyes. You only look equals in the eyes.

"You have been stealing! All this damn time, you have been stealing from me!" Amethyst growled, looking at his son.

It took him so long to realize. He probably noticed when he found out he didn't have enough money to pay for booze. That was why he was sober.

"Are you just going to lie and keep silent?! Say something, you twat! Rise and look into my eyes!" he shouted madly.

"There's nothing to look at. I've seen enough of your face already," Sombra said, rising, looking through the window. "Leave me, please. I'll pay it all back..."

"Oh, like Abyss you will. You will pay, but before, you'll get your portion of education!" he said and Sombra felt a sudden and painful whack on the head.

Sombra collapsed on the ground, his forehead pulsing with pain and his skull cracking of the loud ringing in his ears.

Hatred filled Sombra's inner being as he felt his stomach contracting out of disgust for the one that made him possible. His father was scum, a disgusting stain on this world, a parasite.

There were so many parasites filling this world that good ponies, like Krystal, had to die in order for them to live. It is all because of them! All because of his father!

Sombra slowly got up, several drops of blood appearing on the side of his mouth. He gazed at his father and his horn was set aflame with dark energies. The magic streams around him collapsed on themselves, slowly being corrupted and turned into the pure essence of hatred. The environment around Sombra darkened and Amethyst couldn't help but feel that.

"Da-dark magic? Where... where did you get it? When did you learn it?"

"Silence!" Sombra shouted, wrapping Amethyst's throat in black aura and tightening it like a chain. The putrid pony rattled and fell on the ground, grasping for air.

"Today... a pony that I loved died, died because of scum like you!" Sombra growled at the top of lungs, hatred inside him keeping to grow. He understood it all now.

This world was filled with filth. Father and Krystal's family were one of them. They were so alike; they abandoned their own child, let them fall and die: Amethyst, Lazarus — all the same.

"She died because of scum like you! You killed her!" Sombra screamed. “You murdered my Krystal!”

He jerked his head to the right, and the force field shifted, slamming Amethyst into the wall. Gritting his teeth, Sombra threw Amethyst forward, smashing the doorway to his room.

Amethyst barely got up, blood dripping from his mouth and the broken ribs aching horribly. But Sombra was far from done; his rage demanded release. He had suffered for too much to settle down so easily.

"What... are you talking... abo—" Amethyst couldn't finish his sentence, as Sombra lifted him up in the air, tightening the magical grip around his father's neck, hearing the satisfying sound of choking. Sombra wanted to hurt him a bit more.

"I'm talking about a pony I loved. A pony who was closer to me than any other," he replied to his father's question. "I met her in the first grades! But you didn't even know that!"

With those words, he smashed his father into the wall like he was nothing. The wood gave away, cracking and threatening to fall apart.

"You never cared about me. You only remembered that you have a son when you noticed that I'm a wreck, that I'm a criminal! Only now, when she's gone, you finally remember!" Sombra growled. "We were close. We were so close. I slept with her, for Emperor's sake... But you didn't know that too, right? You didn't even bother!"

With all of his hatred, he threw Amethyst into the door, leading to the kitchen. The old hinges were destroyed, and the poor bastard broke the door, along with the table. Flinders and pieces of wood flew all around the kitchen.

Amethyst struggled to lift himself up, when he felt something crawling up his throat. The retching finally got to him, as he spewed blood, coughing and rattling.

Amethyst raised his head and looked at his son, with fear in his eyes. He seemed to have trouble understanding what was going on. His lips started moving and his speech suddenly cleared up as if he wasn't beaten.

"You monster," Amethyst coughed. "I'm your father... How could you?"

"No, no! How could you? Don't you remember all those times you made me bleed? Made me suffer? Dig your memory, father," Sombra replied, entering the room slowly, enjoying every moment of his father's torment. "It happened far too often."

Sombra slowly walked up to his father and struck him angrily right into the face. Unable to keep balance, Amethyst fell back, smashing yet another chair.

"I hate you! I hate you more than anything else in this world! You don't deserve to live, and yet you still do!" Sombra shouted. "Why do ponies like you live.... while those I love die?!"

Amethyst tried to help himself back up, but couldn't. Months of unending drinking bouts made his magic practically useless. He couldn't concentrate well enough to cast even a single simple spell.

"I should have known... should have guessed you'll follow the hoofsteps of your whore-mother!" Amethyst shouted. "You're so like her! That's why you were so close! Now, let me tell you, sonny, what your precious Willemite did!"

He finally got up, blood dripping from his mouth. Sombra stood still as if frozen in place.

"Your mother ran away with that rich fuck Star Gem! I saw him getting into the carriage with tons, tons of things packed. She ran away with him, and now she's serving as his personal whore!" he shouted. "She left behind both of us, you and me; she didn't need us! But you? you go even further. After having your own whore killed, you blame me, attack me! Is this fucking justice?!"

He reeled a bit, but continued. He looked terrified, but his speech was bold and filled with poison.

"You're a wreck, Sombra. You're nothing but a little shit who got his hooves on a power you can't understand or control. Dark magic is not a toy!" He stomped his hoof, almost falling. "It'll swallow you whole! So shut up and stand down! I command you!"

Sombra stood still. His body started to shake, and his eyes were quickly filled with tears. Every fibre of his being was shaking, trembling shivering with black, poisonous hatred.

"Star Gem. Personal whore?" Sombra pronounced slowly, his voice trembling. Amethyst looked at him with surprise, but his lips whispered:

"Exactly."

"I- I shall..." Sombra shivered, and Amethyst could almost feel him giving up. Knowing the truth hurts.

"I shall tear your pathetic soul out," Sombra said coldly. Amethyst didn't say anything, as Sombra's eyes turned blood red.

Amethyst could swear he felt the ground quake. These quakes made his mind even sober.

Sombra was far stronger than he expected. He knew far too much about dark magic, too much for such a young pony.

"You will suffer," Sombra raised his head, and the dark energies quickly grabbed Amethyst by the neck and lifted him up in the air.

All Sombra could hear in his mind was hatred. All he could feel was hatred. Hatred towards the maggots that took his mother. Towards the maggots that took his Krystal.

The reality started to tear apart near Sombra's head, forming a dark void, where a spear started to gather.

"He killed her.... He killed her... He killed her.... And you're no better than him... You're all alike," Sombra said.

The spear rocketed and flashed with red and black lights. Sombra felt pain in his eyes as dark wisps formed, burning all the tears he had, making him feel as he hadn't blinked for hours. The void grew bigger and bigger.

"I hate you, father. I hate you," Sombra whispered, finally unleashing the spell.

The spear tore through the streams, harnessing the hatred Sombra had for Amethyst. And it was much more than for a simple cup, much more.

Amethyst gazed at his doom in the form of his son. He gazed at the tear-like wisps of smoke that streamed from his eyes turned red, his contorted face. He closed his eyes. His end had come in the form of his own son. The one he ignored for so long had grown into a killer.

Sombra could feel something stirring in him, his conscience, his inner voice. It whispered 'Don't'. But Sombra ignored it completely, concentrating his attention on the Spear.

He silenced all the voices, even his mother, concentrating solely on getting his revenge. Revenge. It's all that mattered.

The Spear pierced the air, heating it up to extreme temperatures. The wooden debris that were touched by it were set aflame immediately. It flew quickly, but for them both, the time seemed to have slowed down. Sombra watched carefully as the Spear finally reached its target.

"No, please! Don't..."

The impact was devastating. Amethyst was knocked back into the wall, smashing through it, and flying out into the street. He hit the cold snow, dug through it for a bit and finally stopped. Pieces of the wall, wooden debris and flinders landed near his body.

His body was steaming, having suddenly found itself in the cold environment, but also because of the Spear partially burned his flesh. It hit him right in the chest, so Sombra could notice exposed muscles and half burnt skin.

The smell of burnt flesh filled Sombra's nostrils, knocking his rage out of him and returning him to the world of the living. The cold air of winter played with his mane, bringing him back into the world that followed logic.

"By the Emperor...." Sombra uttered, realizing what he had done. Something that the vision stopped him from doing. He had just killed him.

All the fever thoughts of justice, higher beings, revenge, scum, villains and heroes were gone after he descended into a cold bath of reality. All his pain was gone, all his tragic worry gone.

It didn't matter if he hated him or not. Sombra killed him. He killed his own father. He had taken a life.

His home was in ruins. The wall was gone and the fire was getting stronger, engulfing more and more of the old wooden furniture. Sombra quickly dashed into through the newly formed passage and into the street, running away quickly.

Where was he going? He didn't know. He just wanted to escape this city, leave it behind. It had caused so much pain and death. He was running through the snow, ignoring everything in his path, praying that nopony had heard that explosion.

It hurt... it really did. He was leaving behind so much pain... but also the joy, his studies, his memories, both good and bad, and Krystal... Who was going to take care of her grave? He wished he had time for a proper burial; she deserved much more than a hole in the reclusive site of the park with a branch for a tombstone.

And this murder... Sombra would never forgive himself. It felt horrible, sickening. But he couldn't control himself. It happened so fast. He couldn't control himself...

And what Amethyst said... he’d provoked him! These insults, these putrid, filthy lies... He did everything to make Sombra angry... and if his goal was to hurt him more, he’d succeeded.

But still, Sombra couldn't get rid of the feeling that there was something wrong with his speech. Amethyst looked terrified, and yet... he’d spoken boldly, as if he wasn't afraid. It just didn't add up.

Sombra stopped for a moment as doubt consumed his mind. Did Amethyst really say what he remembered or was Sombra hallucinating? Could he have been hallucinating?

He couldn't feel any worse than this. Knowing that he killed a pony and the only excuses were his strive for revenge and mental distress. Sombra rushed forwards, to where he knew the city gates were, before madness would claim him again and he’d kill another innocent.

Author's Note

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLn4_Wz3Tc0

Winter Orchestra

Zlata looked at the tray once again and sighed heavily. Despite the deadly winter and the lack of food, she felt lousy when she put the tray with only a bowl of what one can barely call a soup, a tiny piece of bread and a small patch of hay in front of the forest pony. The poor stallion had probably suffered hunger enough and feeding him with this felt like a kick in the stomach. But the cynical and greedy side of her whispered that the dark-hued stranger should be thankful; after all, they had saved his life, kept him warm and fed for at least two weeks.

Zlata saw something in her peripheral vision and stopped immediately, and right on time, too. Orthoclase dashed right in front of her, racing past her and running outside. The young lad had been quite active lately and Zlata couldn’t figure out why. Perhaps because of him reaching the age of conscription soon or the stranger living in their house. It could be both, actually.

The bitter aroma of tobacco filled the air; she traced it to its source in her husband’s office, where she lingered before the closed door. Despite not being a smoker, she had always, for some reason, found the sour aftertaste in her mouth a tiny bit appealing whenever she breathed in the noxious smoke.

“Morning, dear. How’s our forest pony feeling?” Rubin addressed her the moment Zlata opened the door and took a quick peek into the smoke filled room.

“Haven’t checked on him yet.” She walked up to her husband who was sitting in a rather shabby, homemade armchair, facing away from the door, and put the tray on his worktable in front of him. “Though, I doubt he’ll survive for too long with rations like these.”

Rubin eyed the tray for a second, puffing white smoke out of his mouth every once in a while. Then, he put the tobacco pipe aside and got up from the armchair. “Give him my share of bread next time. I can manage a week or two.”

He flexed his muscles and yawned, every fiber of his body yearning for some action. After a good night’s sleep, Rubin felt he could swipe away armies with a single motion, but he knew that was nothing but a deceiving trick of his aging body. He looked at the crystal rifle hanging on the wall and sighed heavily.

“He needs it more than I.”

“I tend to put the needs of my family before the needs of the strangers, dear. Maybe I could go to Grainy, borrow some more bread…” Zlata trailed off as her husband turned around and looked at her angrily.

“Are you insane? We’re already indebted to her; there’s no need to dig the hole even deeper!” His expression easened up a bit, and he approached Zlata, putting his foreleg on her shoulder. “Dear, it’s okay! I can manage! Or do you not believe in me anymore?”

“I do, dear. I always did.”

“Good. So go ahead and give our forest pony some meal, he’s probably starving right now.” Rubin retrieved the tobacco pipe and shook its contents into a tiny glass ashtray. “I’ll go chop us some wood!”

“Sure. But if you feel pain again, call for me!” Zlata said rather strictly, which prompted a content giggle from Rubin.

“Come on, Zlata, that happened only two or three times. I’m not that old yet!” he exclaimed, trotting towards the exit. “Call me if you need anything.”

With Rubin now gone, Zlata looked at the bookshelf, humming to herself. It had been so long since she’d lain on the sofa with a good book in her hooves. Somepony once said that finishing a good book could feel like losing a dear friend; Zlata had tragically ‘lost’ all the friends she could have had in her husband’s limited library, although she never tackled the books on military tactics, since she figured she’d not understand them anyway.

Any other book, however, she had probably read through time and time again. She enjoyed reading dictionaries and studies on language and grammar. Her terrific skills of Common were entirely self taught.

Absently, she ran her hoof over the back of a book titled The Crystallian Language — For beginners. Her hoof halted mid motion as it sparked an idea in her head. The memories of the living hell that had been teaching her son were still fresh in her mind, and yet, she wouldn’t trade it for anything. She picked the book up and looked at its weathered surface.

If she’d fail, then so be it. There wasn’t any reason not to try it. With somewhat eager attitude, Zlata put the book on the tray near the bowl and trotted upstairs.

It was time to be a teacher once again.

***

There was something charming in the bleak surface of the pendant, something really attractive. Sombra couldn’t get his eyes off of it; he just kept staring, twirling it in his hooves. He saw his reflection in the yellow surface and emptied his lungs in a long, drawn-out sigh.

There had never been a single night where he hadn’t dreamt. They were all colorful, very bright and sunny. Krystal would sit in the middle of the flower field, holding a small bundle in her hooves, smiling gently and humming a sweet melody. Upon approach, she would smile at Sombra and silently turn the bundle, revealing the foal sleeping inside.

Every time Sombra woke with a bitter taste in his mouth and an ache in his chest. It didn’t matter where he slept, a bank of snow or a comfortable bed, he would always have these bright dreams. They were never the same — different locations, different colors, but always bright, always happy.

Sombra let the pendant fall on the bed and looked at the ceiling. He hated it when he drowned in his dreams, instead of focusing on reality. Even now, he had spent two weeks doing nothing but eating, sleeping and dreaming. Of course, he felt weak for the first several days, but now, as he became healthier, he felt guilt every time the mare of this family who, as he’d found out, was named Zlata, or her son Orthoclase brought him food.

Their kindness... It would be much more sensible to just leave him to die - he was nothing but a hassle, anyway, a leech draining the life from its host. And yet, he still did nothing to change that. His life was over, he’d lost everything — what was the point?

The door creaked upon opening and Zlata peeked inside, her small head barely covered by her mane.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she said calmly and walked inside, carrying the tray with food and, surprisingly, a book. “I’ve brought you your food.”

Sombra watched Zlata put the tray on the nearby cupboard, grab the book and sit down on the bedside. He was unsure of her intentions, but once he saw the title of the book, it became evident. He had owned it himself once. It almost made him chuckle.

“Listen, deary, I know it’s probably too early… or too late to teach you to write or read… but I still think that, if you are going to live among normal ponies, you need to be able to understand them.” She reinforced her point with a gentle smile. “Believe me, it isn’t hard at all. In fact, it can be quite fun and relaxing!”

First, they took him in. Then, they fed him. Now, they were teaching him. What was wrong with these ponies? Why did they care so much? It seemed like a joke.

Despite that, he found himself suppressing a smile. One might say that he was mocking the family and this poor mare and yet… Sombra felt that this might be his chance.

For a moment, he stared right into the mare’s deep eyes as she spoke. He saw a whole array of feelings: affection, happiness, delight, but perhaps most importantly, enthusiasm. Zlata was geniunaly willing to teach him.

Was destiny giving him a second chance? A second chance to try again and not fail at life? Nopony here knew who he was, or where he came from. Nopony knew what he did and which crimes he’d committed. This was the moment when he could decide whether to surrender and live in memories, or try again.

Sombra took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and extended his hoof forward, putting it on the surface of the book. Zlata stared at him, but he didn’t wait until she’d recovered from the initial surprise.

“It all happened long ago. I had been deeply in love with a pretty princess. I had loved many times, but this was different.” Sombra recited the first lines from the first of the few short stories contained in the book. “Did I forget a few lines?”

The surprise didn’t work out as intended as Zlata collapsed on the bed, senseless.

“There, there you go. Are you feeling better?” Sombra helped Zlata hold the bowl and sip the hot soup from it.

“I… I think I am…” With each gulp, the colour returned to her face. She looked at Sombra, confused and lost. “You… you…”

“Are a coward? Yes… Yes, I am.” Sombra took a deep breath and, after making sure that Zlata could hold the bowl herself, made himself comfortable next to her.

“No… You can talk. How?” Zlata took a sip of the soup and flinched. “Oh, by the Emperor, it tastes horrible.”

“Actually, it’s nice, if you dip the bread into it once or twice…” Sombra chuckled. “But to answer your question: I could talk from the very beginning. I just… didn’t want to.”

“Oh… Did we look savage to you at first?”

Sombra flinched, unsure of what to answer. This family, especially the father, would demand answers from him. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell the whole truth. Tell them about Krystal, about his dad; they would just hoof him over to the guards, and then he would spend the rest of his years in the mines. Or they might just tell him to leave and his chance for a new life would be lost.

A small lie never hurt anypony. It was a lie for a good cause. He would make up for it, definitely.

“No… No, I’ve just… couldn’t figure out where I was. At first I thought you might be bandits who would sell me to slavers…” You had to be completely dense to think that this family might be involved in any kind of crime. Judging by what Sombra had seen so far, they were nothing short of a perfect family. At least, to him it seemed so.

“Oh… Well, that is understandable. To collapse in the middle of the forest and then wake up in an unknown location might certainly be disorientating. Say, what were you doing in the forest? You were found quite far away from any villages or outposts. Where did you come from?”

Zlata’s curiousity made a few cold drops of sweat run down Sombra’s neck. He should have planned his lies earlier, and not come up with them on the fly.

“I… Err… I escaped from bandits. I was travelling with a caravan, when we were attacked. Thankfully, I managed to escape.” The mare gave him a long thorough look.

“Where are your parents, then?” She hummed with a note of sadness in her voice. She was probably assuming the worst.

“Erm… I don’t know. I grew up in the streets of a little village, and then decided to find a better life in another part of the Empire.” Sombra swallowed nervously, but, judging by the sigh Zlata let out, she seemed to have bought it.

“That’s... really horrible — growing up without parents,” she said. “I hope my husband takes the news of your sudden ability to speak well. I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to convince him to let you stay.”

Sombra sighed with relief, as Zlata hastily left the room. Everything went well, even better than Sombra expected. Now, if the father of this family would accept him, he would finally be able to start over. To start a new, calm life away from all the madness and dreams.

Though, if only there was a way to erase memories. Even though the guilt stung him with its decaying claws, Sombra figured that he would take the chance to erase all the memories of his previous life. Even the sweetest moments.

***

“And that is why Sombra stayed quiet for so long.” Zlata finished her brief story and went quiet, as Rubin got up from his chair and looked out of the window.

Sombra gulped, trying to curl up as much as he possibly could, as the strange atmosphere of the cabinet with its tobacco-stained air envelloped him like water. Having spent so much time on the edge between reality and dreams, it felt incredibly weird to walk once more. His jorney down the stairs almost ended in an epic fall. Thankfully, Zlata was there to help him.

However, even her soothing presense was unable to ease all the worries that ovewhelmed him when he stepped inside this office, the office, which reminded him of Misty Pearl’s room — so official, so soulless, and with a crystal gun hanging on the wall. It made for an incredibly uneasy atmosphere, and when Zlata had invited him to sit down on a chair, he knew he would not sit still for even a moment.

Rubin, still rather fired up after his firewood chopping session, swiped a few stray drops of sweat off his brow and returned to his desk. He looked straight at Sombra, but his gaze was not filled with anger nor frustration, but with interest instead.

“So, Sombra… tell me, how did you manage to stay alive in our woods? These parts are pretty dangerous and yet you managed to make it out alive.”

“I was lucky, I guess… I don’t know for how many days I survived in the woods… I ate any leaf, any edible root I could find…” Sombra murmured in reply, trying to scramble together the hazy memories of his stay in the woods.

“Hmm, you’re lucky. You were at least able to find something to eat before the real winter kicked in.” Rubin rubbed his hooves together. “Don’t take me wrong, I’m not belittling your accomplishments or anything. It’s a miracle that you survived, let alone were able to walk into my office somewhat by yourself.”

He sighed once again and turned away and Zlata’s face a bit pale.

“What you have to understand, Sombra, is that dangerous times are coming. Winter is always a great challenge for us here at Granitza; its brutality is unmatched. Even the healthiest of stallions find themselves helpless to feed their families. I cannot let you stay, I’m afraid. There’s not enough food for all of us.” He spoke in a softer tone, trying to soothe the blow for his open-hearted wife.

“Sir, I’m willing to work for my food,” Sombra said sternly. He was not giving up his chance. If doing something of use was the only price to pay for a new life, he was more than willing to pay it.

“Hmm, despite your condition? You’re still weak, after all.”

“I’m anything but weak.” Sombra’s voice turned even more rough, even angry. “Give me a job and I’ll do it. I promise.”

Rubin smiled briefly; the worried look of his wife made him chuckle a little bit. “That’s the attitude I want to see. Fine, you may stay as long as you help our family stay alive.”

Zlata sighed heavily with relief. Sombra bowed his head in gratitude. It was probably the last thing he would do to any pony back at home, but Rubin deserved it undoubtetly.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome. You’ll be moving into a new room, too. Ortho really needs to have his personal space cut.” Rubin threw a sly look at Zlata, who ground her teeth.

“I… urgh… whatever,” she murmured and trotted to the exit. “I’ll go inform Orthoclase… I hope he takes it well.” With those words, she closed the door behind her and only then muttered a few curses at her husband.

“Welcome to the family, Sombra. It’s always nice to see a new set of hooves helping others.” Rubin raised his hoof and Sombra shook it. “Come on now, we’ll need to get you settled in the new room.”

***

Orthoclase gently leaned against the door and held his breath for a moment. Who would have thought that there would be a day when he’d be afraid of entering his own damn room? But ever since the mysterious forest pony entered his life, everything became just a little bit weird.

Well, he was apparently no longer a forest pony. Not only that, but now he was the newest ‘member’ of their family, as Zlata had put it. And, out of all rooms, this ‘member’ had to end up in his room.

“Dad’s idea, no doubt.” Orthoclase murmured, finally pushing the door open and taking a step into his humble abode.

Ortho always tried to keep his room tidy and that had always been easy, considering it was pretty small. A small bed in the farthest corner, a shelf right beside it and a small cupboard underneath the window, where a set of light leather armor was neatly folded. It had been a gift from Rubin for Ortho’s sixteenth birthday. One day, he was hoping to put it to good use.

Orthoclase caught Sombra setting a rough mattress on the floor, carefully preparing this improvised bed for further use. When he finally paid attention to Orthoclase, he turned around and looked at him silently.

“So… Father let you stay, it seems.” Orthoclase stated, closing the door behind him. “Quite surprising, considering he only knew you for about three minutes. Or whenever you started talking.”

Sombra stayed quiet, and Orthoclase felt himself a bit more confident. This silence meant that either Sombra was a real sissy, or he was too stupid to retort. Either way, it was good for Ortho; he did not want to be replaced by some weirdo from the woods.

“You know, Sombra, I think some arrangements have to be made first before you call this place ‘your home’. After all… this is my room and my house. So, if we’re going to co-exist peacefully, you should keep a few simple rules in mind.” Orthoclase rubbed his hooves together, thinking of a possibility that his life might become easier with this little stranger. “First, and the most important rule: if I tell you to leave the room, you definitely should do so.”

Sombra did not say anything, and just kept on making his sleeping place.

“Second rule: if I ask you to do something, you should do that. My requests are very simple, most of the time; you should have no trouble accomplishing them. Finally, the third rule: don’t touch my things. Any of them. Am I making myself clear?” Ortho put his hooves together and smiled suavely, but Sombra didn’t even turn around. He just kept making his bed. “Hey-o! I’m talking to you, you know.”

“Wake me up once you have something useful to say.” Sombra’s reply ended the conversation, as he lied down in his bed and covered himself with a blanket. “I’ve got a long day ahead and I would appreciate if you would give me just a few minutes of rest. Thank you kindly.”

Orthoclase ground his teeth. A pony possessing that kind of voice — a hoarse, commanding one — would never follow his command. In fact, it was obvious that, one day, Sombra would be commanding him. But Orthoclase was not going to give up that easily.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go check on father, then. Maybe he’s got some work for me to do.” Orthoclase forced himself to talk calmly, despite the humiliation he’d just experienced. Rubin might have let Sombra stay, but when dealing with pecking order, Orthoclase was definitely above this stranger. Who would pick some wanderer over their own son?

When Orthoclase closed the door behind him, Sombra angrily rubbed his temples, trying to calm down the raging storm of emotions. He was a guest here, he was dependant on these ponies and breaking their only son’s nose would not make his position much better.

After a brief silent conversation with himself, Sombra decided that he was going to ignore Orthoclase completely. Hopefully, his temper would not get better of him; he needed this family. This was his only chance for a new life. He was not going to lose it.

***

The morning of the next day greeted Sombra with unnatural darkness and knocks on the door. Upon opening his eyes, he could not believe how dark it was outside. It seemed as if he’d woken up in the middle of the night, yet his body told him otherwise.

He remembered how he tried taking a walk yesterday. Walking on his own proved a bit of a challenge at first, but Sombra quickly recovered and by the end of the day was able to walk freely, without the fear of collapsing.

Sombra shook his head trying to drive away the morning headache and got up from his bed. Orthoclase did not seem to notice the persistent knocks on the door and kept his face burrowed deep within the pillow. Sombra shook his head one more and opened the door.

“Erm…” Zlata was looking at him with rather surprised expression. “Oh, Sombra, it’s you. I just… confused you with somepony for a moment.”

“Good, err, evening, Mrs. Zlata” Sombra nodded, unsure of what was going on and why the mare would visit them at this late of hour.

“Actually, it’s morning.” Zlata stifled a chuckle. “Anyway, I needed to tell you that Rubin is expecting you both. It seems he wants to hunt… again. He’s waiting outside.”

Sombra quickly nodded. “We’ll be there in a moment’s notice.” Zlata nodded and trotted away while Sombra closed the door and turned to Orthoclase. Obviously, since Rubin wanted both of them to come, he would get indignant if only one of them arrived. This might be a good opportunity to teach the brat a lesson.

Too bad there was no way to prolong the sleep through magical means. It was all either weirdly named medicine or a good smack on the skull. Sombra hummed for a moment: maybe a good smack against the wall would keep the colt sleepy.

Sombra stiffled a chuckle. What was he thinking? How old was he, twelve? Or maybe five? Setting up another pony just because he was an idiot was child’s play. He had already made too many childish decisions.

“Hey, wake up,” Sombra said, approaching the sleeping pony. “We’ve got some work to do.” All he heard in reply was a snore louder than usual. With no signs of regret or pity, Sombra delivered a harsh slap right on Orthoclase’s cheek. The poor pony quickly sprung up, his eyes shot open, and looked around, looking for the attacker.

“Wha… what the Abyss?” he murmured, his eyes twitching a little before his eyes found Sombra. “Why did you…”

“Your dad is waiting for us outside. Let’s not keep him waiting.”

“Urgh, fine, fine… you asshole.” Orthoclase grumbled the insult as Sombra was too far away already to hear it.

It didn’t take much time for the two colts to prepare for the jorney outside. Zlata found a spare jacket, a furry hat and a tight warm scarf for Sombra, so they both were ready to take on the cold.

“Be careful, Ortho. Who knows what kind of antics your dad is up to today.” She advised her son, keeping her hoof on her chest. Every time he left for hunting, especially in winter, felt like a devastating blow to the mare. “Try not to hurt yourself.”

“Oh, mom, keep it together. I can handle whatever he throws at me.” Orthoclase grumbled in reply and gently pushed her away when she went to kiss him. “Mom! What did I tell you last time?”

Zlata threw an innocent glance at Sombra and facehoofed. “Oh, right, sorry. Not in front of strangers. Forgive me, sweetheart.”

Sombra couldn’t bring himself to look at the scene. Had he been in Ortho’s place, he would have hugged his mother… The fool didn’t value what he had until he’d loose it.

“Be a little more respectful to your mother,” Sombra grumbled angrily, tightening the jacket with magic and stepping outside into the cold dark. Orthoclase gazed upon him with hatred evident in his eyes, grumbled something and followed suit.

Zlata watched the two colts leave, feeling rather shocked about what Sombra said. It wasn’t common for stallions to say something like this. The hardened, strong defenders of the house could not show weakness by displaying love and affection to their wives, at least in public. That was the tradition in almost in every part of the Empire that hadn’t yet been touched by the Emperor’s reforms. This made her question Sombra’s origin… and yet, she felt incredibly touched by such care from a complete stranger.

Though, she had cared for Sombra all these weeks. Maybe he was just trying to return the favor…

Zlata took a deep breath and hid away her thoughts in the farthest corner of her mind. Now was not the time to get sentimental; her stallions should be back by midday and they should be pretty hungry by then. She needed to make them something nice.

Ah, if only she could prepare some potatoes with a tiny bit of eastern Unicornian spice to make their tongues twist. Sadly, such things were a rarity in this time of year. Maybe Sombra would appreciate Zlata’s cooking just as her family did.

***

“Took you long enough.” Rubin carefully rubbed the side of the crystal rifle as the two amateurs approached him. He was wearing a light furry coat, which made Sombra’s skin crawl a little; wearing another creature as clothing was not a common thing to see. Especially when the coat was so badly made that it was clear it used to belong to something else. “Come on, rookies, we’ve got a lot to kill today.”

“Oh, that’s terrific! What do we hunt?” Orthoclase took a deep breath and tried to sound enthusiastic. “Rabbits? You want to add some more fur on your armor?”

“No, we’ve got a much more dangerous prey to kill today.” Rubin smiled slyly. “The patrols have been reporting a disturbing wolf activity lately. You know what that means…”

Orthoclase’s skin turned pale and he took a few steps back, looking around like an animal caught in a trap. “Th-the white alpha, right?”. Rubin nodded solemnly.

“White alpha? What’s that?” Sombra inched closer to Rubin, shivering a little from the cold breeze. Rubin turned to Sombra, looking a bit surprised.

“You’ve never heard of it? Strange. I thought caravan ponies know a lot of folk tales.”

“Ponies I knew appearently didn’t.” Sombra replied jokingly.

“Good enough. I’ll tell you on the way, we don’t want to stand around for too long.” Rubin stepped on a shallow road that was just barely visible under a layer of snow. Sombra and Orthoclase followed suit.

“Once every winter, when prey is most scarce, many small packs of wolves gather together. One hungry wolf is bad enough — it will fight to the death, and if you run, it will hunt you down until you collapse, defenseless and exhausted. A pack of hungry wolves can slaughter an entire village, and when there’s several packs… you get the idea.” Rubin coughed a few times, clearing his throat and looked around, as if wary of something. Sombra took a moment to look around as well.

Now it seemed weird that he hadn’t paid any attention to the nature of these lands during his trip. Maybe his eyes were clouded with grief and shame and he couldn’t see straight, otherwise he would have noticed how beautifully the trees looked, dressed in the shawl of snow. Krystal would have loved to see this.

Sombra sighed heavily, checked if Orthoclase was watching him, and, once sure that he wasn’t, opened the pendant and looked at the picture. Krystal had put all of her effort into drawing this, just to show how much she held him dear...

“But the most notable thing about this big pack is that it is always lead by a big white wolf, the white alpha. The legends say that it is an old god of war, reincarnated in wolf’s guise to bring destruction and pain upon the enemies of this land. And, since ponies are the only worthy threat, it leads the pack to attack us.” Rubin resumed his tale, still looking around cautiously. “But that’s just legends. In reality, it’s nothing more but an overgrown white wolf. The bad part is that it’s as strong and ferocous as three of its kin. We never hunt that monster alone. Only in teams.”

“W-we’re not going after it, yes?” Orthoclase murmured, trying to hide the worry in his voice.

“Nah. We’re just going to thin out the pack. We’re too far away from the wolves’ hunting grounds, so they shouldn’t be much of a problem. Still, watch your croups out there. Zlata’s going to eat me alive if she finds out I took you here, Ortho.”

“That sounds… bad.” Orthoclase coughed nervously a few times.

“Excuse me, sir, but if we’re hunting wolves, shouldn’t we get some weapons? Maybe just a simple blade?” Playing the polite one made Sombra sick, but this pony took him in at his hour of need. He needed to be respectful.

“No, not yet. For now, you’ll just get a demonstration. I’ll shoot some wolves from the distance, we get some wolf pelts for sale, and that’s about it.” Rubin dropped a glance at Sombra. “You’re already hungry for blood, eh?”

Sombra stumbled, trying to pick the best answer for that. If he said yes, he might look like a psycho. If he said no, he might look like a coward.

“Just curious, sir.” It seemed like the best reply to him.

“I see. Don’t worry, one day we’ll be hunting together. And you can drop the ‘sir’. It makes me feel old.”

Sombra nodded, taking a mental note for himself. This was a big trouble off his list - even though still indebted, he at least would not need to grovel.

***

After at least half an hour of walking into the wilderness, Sombra felt the metaphorical noose around his neck tightening. The deeper they ventured, the more unsettling it got. When he was wandering alone, he was more concerned with survival than his surroundings, but now he embraced the full array of emotions one would feel when lost in a place like this.

Sombra felt shameful to admit it, but he was, in fact, more scared than Orthoclase, though he was able to contain his fear. Rubin, however, looked as calm as a mountain. He must have walked these woods thousands of times; that was the only explanation Sombra could find.

The snowbanks got thicker, the sky got darker and the air colder. The sounds were muffled by the forest, the giant trees were like a gag that consumed the screams of anypony that would dare to walk inside. Sombra began to question Rubin’s intention. Was he really planning on ‘training them’ as the elder pony spoke, or did he just want to kill them in a place where no living soul would look?

“We’re almost here,” Rubin stated, signalling the two ponies behind him to halt. “See these tracks?” He pointed his hoof at the snow in front of himself. Sombra noticed a few places, where the snow was crushed.

“They’re close. Take it slowly from here.” Rubin took out his rifle, slowly taking a step after step, using the crystal gun as a support. Orthoclase and Sombra followed suit, afraid to even squeak.

Soon, they approached a narrow opening between the thick cover of braches overlooking a small field. Rubin’s face turned stern as he laid on the ground, swiping the snow away so it would not hinder his sight and aimed the rifle at two figures in the distance.

Sombra narrowed his eyes and managed to make out that the two figures were actually two wolves, ferociously ripping the corpse of a recently killed elk into pieces.

“Looks like they managed to find dinner. Good. They won’t be running as fast with their bellies full.” Rubin grumbled and concentrated on aiming. “Watch and learn, kiddos. It’s about to get gory.”

Sombra didn’t even have time to shudder the the loud bang pierced his ears. The bolt of magical energy flew through the air and hit the unsuspecting wolf right in the side. The terrifying whimper of pain tore through the usual silence of the forest, as the beast got knocked back from impact, bleeding heavily. The other wolf quickly ran away before Rubin could snipe him.

“Got him,” he growled in satisfaction, looking at the whimpering wolf, desperately trying to crawl after its comrade, but only quickening its demise. “Too bad the other one got away. Come on, now.”

Rubin hid the rifle in the holster and came out of the bushes, the two boys trotted carefully after him. When they finally approached their prey, Sombra almost vomited from sheer brutality. The wolf had a gaping hole in its side, blood was running down its grey hide. Every time the beast drew breath, blood gushed out of the wound, staining the snow around it in crimson. The partially eaten carcass of the elk did not help the situation.

“Poor bastard. Struck down in his most glorious moment.” Rubin sneered, looking at the dying animal. “So, who wants to take its hide?”

Sombra took a moment to ponder how it would be to skin an animal alive, and that thought made him even more sick. Such amount of gore was too much for his mind. Judging by the color of Orthoclase’s face, he had the same thought.

“Ah, fine, fine. I’ll do it myself. I suggest you keep your eyes closed.” Rubin laughed, carefully pulling a short blade out of the second holster with his teeth.

“Yeah, that’ll be a good idea.” Orthoclase murmured and distanced himself from the gory process. Sombra thought the idea as a smart one and followed him.

The two young stallions stood without looking at each other and without even sharing a word. They just didn’t know what to say. The rough way they were introduced to each other did not help. But, despite that, Sombra still couldn’t outright say he hated this Orthoclase character, so, for the time being, he brushed him away as merely annoying.

“It’s cold.” Orthoclase murmured, sitting down and rubbing his hooves together, breathing over them to make the blood run faster.

“Glad you noticed,” Sombra deadpanned, following his example. Their conversation ended at that, as they sat together, looking at the forest around them, occassionally wrinckling their noses at the sound of Rubin loudly cussing when he cut the wrong place and got a large amount of blood sprayed in his face.

As time passed, Sombra almost began to fall asleep; the sickness subsided, there were no images of his previous life in his mind. He felt calm, for a change. However, his heart started to beat madly when he heard a loud howl nearby.

“Did you hear that?” Sombra turned to Orthoclase who quickly nodded.

“Dad, are you done there?” Orthoclase shouted, trying to get his father’s attention. “Dad! Dad!” Finally, he turned around, in angerous worry. “Come on, dad, we’ve got to hurry!”

Sombra turned around as well and saw Rubin, standing motionless over the carcass of the wolf, which he half finished skinning, with a blade in his mouth, staring into the depths of the forest.

“Erm… dad… Wha-” Ortho was unable to finish his question as Rubin growled in a terrified, quiet voice.

“Run…” Despite the blade in his mouth, the words he spoke were clear as day. At first, Sombra didn’t understand what he was talking about, but then he saw a pair of yellow eyes.

A huge grey wolf stepped out of the bushes, not far from Rubin and the carcasses. His thick hide was partially wet from the melting snow, its fur looked rough, and the many scars on its body where the fur was absent whatsoever, revealed the wolf to be a veteran for its kind. Its yellow eyes switched between Sombra, Orthoclase and Rubin, and the hungry growl it was emitting clearly showed its intentions.

Sombra felt his heart stop when he saw the monster and started to shudder at the sight of its humongous, sharp fangs. Whatever this canine demon would catch in its mouth would not escape with its limbs in place.

“Run!” Rubin shouted at the top of his lungs. The wolf finally decided between the choice of meals and charged right at Rubin, baring its fangs.

Sombra had a few thoughts flash in his mind — maybe he should help Rubin fight the beast. That would help him earn Rubin’s respect. He brushed them off immediately, as he turned to Orthoclase.

“Come on, we’ve got to get out of here!” he commanded. Orthoclase stared at his father and the wolf, engaged in mortal combat, then turned around and ran. Sombra quickly took the lead.

However, in this position of a ‘leader’, Sombra was introduced to an even more horrific scene: the large pack of wolves, circling around the field, hidden in the thick forest, behind the trees. They were surrounded completely. However, Sombra kept silent and ran as fast as he could — there was no other way out, and if he and Ortho wanted to stay alive, they needed to get through this ambush.

Finally, they reached the edge of the field and entered the forest. Sombra was worried about Orthoclase losing sight of him and getting lost in the forest, but the young stallion was running right behind him, panting heavily as he ran out of breath.

Sombra began to feel tired as well; the thick snowbanks made it hard to move, making it feel as they were running while kneedeep in water. But they had to keep going — one pause, and they would be dead in a heartbeat.

“Sombra!” Orthoclase suddenly shouted. Sombra almost turned his head to look at him questioningly, when he noticed, in his peripheral vision, a grey figure, charging right at them. Feeling terror filling his every fiber, Sombra entrusted his own safety to instincts and bent his knees, falling face first into the snow. This decision, however, appeared to have saved his life as he heard a whistle above him, as a wolf lunged right over his head.

He could hear Orthoclase swear profusely as Sombra got back on his hooves. It took him only a moment to realize what he was so scared of.

It seemed that their little escape had drawn the wolves to them. There were at least seven pairs of hungry staring at them from the shadows.

The wolf that almost pounced on Sombra got up and turned to the two, snarling menacingly, preparing itself for another lunge, as it was joined by another two wolves.

“Fucking Abyss… there’s so many of them…” Orthoclase whispered. “So many…”

Sombra took a deep breath, trying his best to suppress the terror that were brooding inside of him. He found himself in a situation that he never found himself in before. It felt so scary… yet so invigorating.

Do or die. He and Orthoclase had to fight back the pack of wolves, or become their meal. It seemed impossible, but Sombra quickly remembered his past mistakes. There was nothing impossible. If he had the guts to rob a store, he would not back away from a fight. Not anymore.

“Orthoclase, grab something! We’re going to fight them!” Sombra shouted, looking at the hungry wolves, showing off his own fangs, in vain hopes that it would have some effect on them.

“Are you crazy? There’s only two of us!” Orthoclase replied. “Hold on… You’re a unicorn! Cast something! Summon a firestorm or some shit!”

“I can’t cast magic when I’m frustrated!” Sombra growled in reply.

“Oh, excuse me, you want me to give you a blowjob or something?! We’re going to die here!” Ortho shouted in anger, which proved to be a bad decision, as one of the wolves lunged straight at him, aiming its claws right at his face. Before Sombra had even fully registered Orthoclase’s words, Orthoclase was down on the ground, fighting for his life against the beast.

The wolf sinked its claws deep into Ortho’s shoulders and opened its maw to feast, but the desperate stallion managed to shove both of his forelegs into its mouth in a futile attempt to stop it. As the canine’s fangs drew blood, Orthoclase let out a chilling shriek, tearing his vocal cords in one big scream of pain.

Without time to think or ponder, Sombra rushed right at the two, lowering his head, aiming his horn at the wolf. As he ran, he felt his heart beat faster and faster, felt hot as if it was in the middle of the summer.

Each step felt like an eternity, but all of it came to an abrupt end when Sombra felt the disgusting warmth of flesh on his forehead. Even though he had reached his target, Sombra didn’t even think of stopping, striking the snow with his hooves, as he literally tore the wolf off of Orthoclase. The poor lad screamed when the beast’s claws got pulled out of him, leaving the wounds in the worse state than before.

Sombra ran and ran, still with the wolf impaled before him until he hit something hard. He heard a loud satisfying crack and a loud gurgle, uttered by the wolf as it drew its last breath. Holding his breath, Sombra quickly pulled his horn out of the wolf’s body and immediately regretted it as warm, sticky blood streamed down his face.

He slowly aimed his sight at the wolf and, to his own surprise, felt nothing but pride to see the beast collapse on the snow, uttering loud squelchy sounds as blood gushed out of the wound. That feeling was shortlived, however, it quickly subsided as he turned around to see if Orthoclase was alright.

“Ortho, can you stand?” He approached his injured comrade, helping him get up.

“Y-yeah… I’m good.” Orthoclase was obviously not; the torn wounds on his shoulders were bleeding and he struggled to stand with horrible pain in his forelegs. But he still stood.

Sombra swiped the blood from his face, but it only served to further smear blood all over his face. There was no time for prettying up — the wolves still crept around them.

“Get down!” The scream deafened Sombra and before he could react Orthoclase tackled him, saving him yet from another pouncing wolf. Sombra saw the wolf leap over them, and, to its misfortune, land right on a pointy branch, impaling itself. It roared and clawed the tree, unable to believe to have found itself in such a position, and eventually, it managed to free itself.

Both ponies quickly crawled away from the wounded beast, but were immediately attacked by another one. Sombra felt a slight pull on his rear. The attacking wolf had grabbed him by the tail and was dragging him away, to its brethren, no doubt.

Orthoclase reacted quickly, despite the shock and the wounds. He dug his bleeding forehooves into the snow and then kicked the wolf right in the head with both of his hindlegs. With loud whining, the hungry animal fell into the snow and then retreated, its lower jaw bleeding profusely.

“Agh… good kick.” Sombra murmured, getting up and shaking his tail.

“Yeah. I think I broke its jaw.” Orthoclase took a deep breath, squinting from the pain piercing his shoulders. “Abyss take these fucking wolves… it hurts so bad…”

When Sombra got up and looked around, he was surprised to find that the amount of yellow eyes surrounding them had decreased to zero. It seemed that the pack had retreated.

“They’re gone…” Sombra murmured the beginning of an insane grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “They’re gone.”

“Gone?” Orthoclase looked around. “You’re right! We fucking did it! We’re still alive!”

Two ponies looked at each and started to giggle. They weren’t friends, they didn’t even know each other for that long, but they’d survived. Together. And if it wasn’t for each other, they both would already be dead, and they both knew that.

The nervous giggles turned into laughter, as they both looked at the battlefield: one dead wolf, one still clinging to life as it spilled guts out of its stomach, and that one messenger, that signalled the pack to retreat with its screaming. They felt great for a moment, having endured through this massacre.

Only after they ceased laughing, they felt a chill run down their spines, as a low growl resounded through the air.

The source thereof presented itself as the braches parted in front of a magnificent creature, the creature that put both stallions into a state of such horror that they could do nothing but stare at it.

With snow crunching underneath its massive paws, with the very wind afraid to ruffle its majestic fur, the white alpha walked forth, its eyes focused on two ponies.

Sombra felt his every limb going numb when he gazed into the blue eyes of the legendary wolf. He felt completely insignificant, a tiny, puny worm in front of the massive monster.

The white alpha was a head taller than Emperor Lux — at least as Sombra remembered him — and had strong limbs. One could only theorize just how much strength those muscles could muster, but it was certain that two young ponies were like bugs in comparison.

It was at this moment that Sombra thought of using dark magic. He desperately looked through his mind for a suitable spell, but there was nothing, nothing at all. There was just no spell that he knew of that would deal raw damage, without basing itself on emotion. Any simple arcane spell seemed like it would only piss off the white alpha.

The wolf leader finally stopped in its approach, focusing its blue eyes on Sombra. Deep within the blue lagoon of the beast’s sight Sombra saw endless wisdom, far beyond that of a common beast. It felt as if it tried to communicate with him. Only with him.

What would it say if it could speak? Congratulate on fighting bravely? Angrily promise to avenge its wolven brethren’s death?

The white alpha took a few steps back and… dashed back into the wilderness. It disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving behind only deep tracks and two stallions scared shitless.

Slowly, the paralysis let go of their bodies as the ponies began to breathe. It felt as if they had just glanced into the eyes of death, which had deemed them too puny to die.

Sombra slowly turned his head, looking around to see if there was anything else ready to attack and, after confirming that they were safe, he fell on his knees, feeling devastated.

Such power… such magnificence… the white alpha was a truly magnificent creature, that could have killed them in a moment’s notice… and yet it didn’t. How could a beast hold so much power over a pony?

Sombra’s ears perked up when he heard the snow crunching and he carefully turned, hoping that it would not be another wolf. They were in no state to fight anymore, such an easy prey for any hunter. However, to his surprise, he saw Rubin, slowly limping his way to them.

The poor pony looked horrible. There were long claw-marks on his neck and chest that bled as he walked, he was missing a big part of his skin on right foreleg and there was a deep wound on his left hindleg, which gushed blood every single time he made a step. Rubin held the bloodied blade in his mouth and barely managed to stand, using his rifle as a support.

“D-dad!” Orthoclase exclaimed and quickly advanced towards his father, ignoring the pain in the shoulders. “Thank the Emperor you’re alive.”

Rubin’s jaws trembled as he barely forced them open. The blade fell into the snow, along with a few drops of blood from his mouth.

“You… you colts… luckiest fuckers alive…” he murmured, coughing blood. “I’m such an idiot… Such a fucking idiot….”

“We need to get out of here! Come, Sombra, help him walk!” Orthoclase shouted and Sombra quickly joined him in assisting Rubin. He put the crystal gun back into the wounded pony’s holster and let him lean against him.

“Ortho’s right. We’ve got to get out of here.” Sombra groaned a little when Rubin leaned on him, but the burden lessened when Orthoclase let Rubin use him as a support as well.

“Sorry I brought you here, boys… Hurry up! They will return once they feel that we’re weak. Go, I’ll show you the way.” Rubin let out a moan of agony as Sombra and Orthoclase began walking. They wanted to hurry, but were forced to move at a snail’s pace. They couldn’t risk injuring Rubin even further.

***

“I can’t believe you did this! I just can’t believe it! You stupid, stupid pony!” Zlata roared like a monster and for a moment Sombra wondered if she was the white alpha in disguise.

“I know, sweetheart, I know... “ Rubin murmured, coughing blood as Zlata helped him lie down on the couch. “I fucked up…”

“Oh, this fuck up will cost you your life! When you’re back on your feet, I’ll kill you!” The furious mother and wife growled and then turned to the colts, to which she then spoke in the kindest of voices: “Quickly, sweeties, get in your room, the doctor will come soon.”

It looked like Zlata wasn’t scared of wounds, which, considering her position as a wife of a soldier, was entirely logical. She approached Orthoclase and started inspecting his wounds. “Oh sweet Emperor, it looks so bad… Oh, Emperor save and protect my poor child…”

“Hey, don’t I get some kind of moral support?” Rubin forced a smile on his tortured face.

“Shut your face, you old moron!” Zlata hissed angrily. After making sure Orthoclase wasn’t mortally wounded, she gave him a kiss, told him to proceed to his room and moved to Sombra. “Sweet gods… your head…”

“Don’t worry, I’m not hurt.” Sombra comforted the caring wife, swiping the blood from his horn to show that it was not his. “That horn’s not just for magic, you see.”

Zlata sighed with relief. “Good… Good. Could you please help me out? I’ve got so much to do: prepare the bandages, clean the wounds, fetch the doctor… Oh, damn you, Rubin, you old fart!”

“Of course. What do I need to do?”

“Clean Rubin’s wounds while I treat Ortho, please. I’ll handle the rest.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Thank you, Sombra.”

Sombra didn’t even have time to reply as Zlata rushed to Orthoclase’s room, leaving her husband alone with the newcomer.

“Typical of Zlata — always pampering her little cutie son… Gargh…” Rubin coughed, covering the bleeding wound on his side while hissing in agony. “Say, lad… do you even know how to clean wounds?”

“Err… no, sir.” Sombra replied, much to Rubin’s irritation.

“Then you’re going to have to learn it on the go. There’s a bottle of spirit in the cupboard over there. Fetch that, a piece of cloth and a towel. It should all be there.”

Sombra nodded, approached the cupboard and opened the first slot, quickly finding a big bottle full of clear liquid, which Sombra assumed to be alcohol. He looked in the other sections and found a small white cloth and a big towel. He clasped all of it with magic and brought back to Rubin.

“Now, drench the cloth in alcohol.” Sombra obeyed, pouring the contents of the bottle on the white cloth. “Good. Now, you can get to cleaning.”

Sombra felt a big ball of vomit climbing up his throat as he carefully cleaned each wound. Rubin gritted his teeth as hard as he could, and while the pain of alcohol burning his flesh was not the worst he ever felt, it was still agonizing. The couch underneath him got soaked in blood and each time Rubin made a sudden movement it would squelch, making Sombra feel even more sick.

Finally, most of the wounds were cleaned and dried, and as Sombra was finishing up his dirty work, Rubin started laughing.

“She’s probably letting him suckle on her hoof or something… Raising a dickless tit, that’s what she’s doing… Nggh..” He grumbled when Sombra aciddently pressed on the wound a little harder than needed. “Sorry to bore you with this sentimental downpour, Sombra. This old pony needs to let out his steam somehow.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Sombra replied, carefully swiping the last drops of alcohol from Rubin’s wound, as he finished up. “I think it’s done, sir.”

“Good… good. Now I only have to wait for Zlata to stitch ‘em up. I could have done it myself, but… Aaargh…” He moaned as a big gush of blood poured out of the wound on his leg. Sombra quickly dried it up. “That beast tore me up pretty good... “

“Erm…” Sombra coughed, feeling guilt eating away at him. “Sorry for leaving you behind, sir. If I stayed, I could have helped kill that wolf.”

“Don’t be an idiot, you wouldn’t have helped me at all! That monster was way out of your league… Then again, you held up against the pack, as I’ve seen… and…” Rubin suddenly paused, and Sombra noticed color fading from his face. “When I saw the white alpha leaning towards you two… I think I died inside... Thank the Emperor it left…”

“I wonder what scared it away.” Sombra murmured, looking at Rubin’s wounds, fretting over his disability to help the stallion.

“No idea, son… No idea.” The room went silent for a minute, except for occassional groans and sighs. Suddenly, Rubin reached for Sombra and put his hoof on his shoulder.

“Tell me, Sombra… when you stood your ground against those wolves, side by side with my son… Were you afraid? Did you want to run away?”

At first, Sombra didn’t know how to reply. He could try to play a hero and tell that he wasn’t afraid, but that would be such a big lie. Sombra wasn’t a skillful liar, not at all. Telling the truth seemed the most sensible thing.

“Yes, sir. I was very scared…” Sombra wlited down, expecting something bad to happen. Instead, he felt a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Good. Very good.” Rubin smiled. “Having fear and being able to control it is the defining trait of a good fighter.” He glanced at Sombra’s bloodied horn. “Ingenuity as well.”

Both ponies grinned.

“I like you, Sombra. You’re a good sport.” Rubin’s words felt like honey on a soul that longed for it. “Something makes me think that the white alpha was driven away by you. The way it stared at you and then left was… unnerving. There’s something in you that you yet still need to discover.”

“There’s nothing to discover.” Sombra sighed heavily. “It probably left because it considered us not worth its time.”

“Possible. But who are we to judge?...” He paused for a brief moment, then smiled. “I’ll ask it once the hunting team brings it decapitated head to the town!” He laughed hoarsely. “Listen, Sombra, how about we, after I get back on my feet, do some training? I feel like you have the potential to be a great asset to our glorious motherland.”

Sombra was quite surprised to hear that this was an actual offer, not an order or a demand, something to be expected from a soldier. But whatever it was, Sombra was going to agree either way.

“I would be honored, sir.”

“Good. Very good. Now, stop calling me that for real. It’s getting annoying.” Rubin inhaled deeply, squinting from the pain. “Argh… Go wash yourself or something… I’ll wait here… Not in a hurry at all!” He shouted as loud as he could, to make sure Zlata heard him. Sombra nodded and started looking for a washtub. There had to be one in the house.

His new life started rather interestingly. He almost died, killed an animal and got himself signed up for an army training — all in one day. But he enjoyed such kind of business. It took his mind away from the thoughts about the past. It made him forget about the wrongs he did and never managed to correct.

A fresh start — he had finally claimed it. Now, everything would be different. Everything.

Simple songs

An explosion of a thousand suns. An eternal fire that threatened to consume the world. A dragon’s breath.

There were hundreds and more words that Sombra could use to describe the bright flash that bit his eyes so harshly when he pulled the trigger of the crystal rifle. The bright bolt of pure energy was forcefully ejected from its home and sent to seek and destroy the enemies of Crystal Empire — in this case, a small log.

“Not bad. Not bad,” Rubin purred with delight, eyeing the smoldering flinders as if they’d done him a grievous harm. “You’ve got good aim, but you need to work on your speed.”

He grabbed another log from a pile and put it in the same place where the previous victim of their targeting practice had stood. “Aim is essential, but it’s useless unless you’re fast. In the heat of battle, you won’t have time to aim.”

Deep inside, Sombra hoped he would never find out what it’d be like to aim in the heat of battle. The memories of the bloody struggle against the wolves were still fresh in his memory, even two weeks of hard work and complete absense of free time didn’t drive them out of his mind.

“Try again. This time, try to be fast,” Rubin said, helping Sombra adjust his aim. It was baffling how quickly he’d recovered — his movements were slow and and at times sluggish, a huge part of his body was covered with bandages that he needed to change constantly, but other than that, he was fine.

Another shot and another obliterated log. Thankfully, they had a big stockpile of firewood, so there was no problem with them running out. The real problem was food.

When Sombra remembered about food, he felt loud rumbling in his stomach. It has been so long since he’d truly eaten something. Water with a small patch of hay and a tiny slice of bread were just awful compared to anything he’d eaten before. Especially Krystal’s sandwiches.

Sombra quickly suppressed the memories of that name and focused his attention entirely on aiming. Just as Rubin had told him: there should be nothing except him, his rifle and his target. Deep breath. Now pull.

“Alright, you took two seconds less than before. I salute you,” Rubin sneered, looking at the remains of the log. “I think that’s enough for today. Head home and rest a while. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

Sombra nodded, getting up and grabbing the rifle with his magic. With a swift nod of his head, he gently slid it back into the holster, then picked it up and threw it to Rubin. The elder pony caught it with ease.

When Sombra entered the house, he felt the warm air engulf him completely, making him feel incredibly lethargic. He only managed to shake it off after Rubin closed the door behind them with a rather loud bang, but the tiredness still clinged to him.

“I think I’ll hit the bed now.” Sombra yawned, stretching a bit. Rubin nodded in acknowledgement.

“One of the most important requirements of a good soldier.” He giggled and immediately regretted it, when the giggle resonated in his body with a sharp pain in the side. “I’ll follow your example. Just got to change my bandages…”

Rubin slowly trotted upstairs while Sombra proceeded to Orthoclase’s, or, to be precise, their room. Before he could reach it, however, he met his roommate in the corridor, just a few steps from the door.

“Oh, hello there, Sombra.” Orthoclase greeted him. Their relationships had improved greatly after they been assaulted. Orthoclase stopped pushing his authority, and, sometimes in the evening, they would even share a laugh or two after telling jokes. None of them knew any good ones, though.

Orthoclase’s wounds were much less severe than Rubin’s, so he recovered much quicker. The wounds on his shoulders were gone, leaving behind two small scars; he could walk with ease, but Zlata still insisted he keep his hooves bandaged.

“Hello,” Sombra replied, intending to pass by Orthoclase, when he suddenly got right in his path. “Excuse me?”

“I just wanted to ask a question. Have you ever been to the town?” Orthoclase asked.

“Ehm, no. Why are you asking?”

“Oh, that’s great. Would you like to? I was just going out for a stroll. Care to join?”

At first, Sombra wanted to refuse, but some kind of force beyond his control made him nod his head a few times. He couldn’t fathom what it was — was he possessed, insane, or just plain bored. Somehow, the weariness slowly faded from his muscles when he thought that it was a chance for him to meet new ponies.

It’d been so long since he’d seen new faces. Rubin, Zlata, Orthoclase — he’d gotten used to them so fast.

“That’s great. Come on now, let’s go. I’m sure my friends are going to be excited to meet somepony like you.” Orthoclase trotted past Sombra, nodding at him to follow. “Just try not to take all the glory for yourself.”

“No promises.” Sombra replied in such a soulless tone it surprised even himself. “No promises.” He repeated in a more lively tone.

Maybe the old childish insult spoke true and he indeed needed to go out more.

***

An eery feeling of loneliness struck Sombra as he and Orthoclase walked the snow-filled streets of Granitza. Gracefully maneuvering between the small wooden buildings, each looking more rundown than the previous, Ortho didn’t even notice his comrade falling behind.

The town of Granitza, despite being on the border, looked incredibly poor. The buildings were mostly short and wooden, each more run down than the next. Surrounded by these darkened wooden dwarves, far away from Sombra, stood a glorious construction of stone and wood. The windows were few and far between, but every single one of them was covered with blinds, visible even from far away because of their blood red colour.

This was the only building that looked remotely presenteble, aside from officers’ houses, which were all built away from main streets. Maybe whoever ran Granitza did not want the beauty of his town hall rivaled by tiny officer estates. Sombra imagined what it would be like to look out the window and see the tiny houses below, each one like a small bump in the ground.

“Hey, wake up! We won’t get anywhere if you daydream all the time.” Orthoclase’s remark snapped Sombra out of his dreams and he hastily caught up with him. “Admiring the town hall, huh?”

“Yes… It looks very unusual. Quite… misplaced.” Sombra tried to soften his words, but Orthoclase probably had already figured that his town was in severe disrepair.

“You could say that. But trust me, it’s much better in summer. It’s not too warm but the streets are much busier, and there’s much more to do.”

Sombra nodded and shivered when a chilling wind ran through, ruffling his mane. The streets, indeed, were empty — not even traces of hoofsteps anywhere. From a distance, it might seem that this place was dead, but in every window of each small wooden house Sombra could see light.

“Tell me… is everypony here part of the army?” Sombra looked away from the windows as if afraid that somepony would look back.

“Every male, yes. To our Motherland we swear, no foe shall cross alive! Ever heard that song?” Orthoclase slowed down a bit. “If you haven’t, you eventually will. Father knows it by heart. You can wake him up at night and ask him to sing it — he’d do that.”

“I see…” Sombra sighed, looking around with uneasiness. The eerie quietness made him feel uncomfortable. “Where are we going, anyway? Where are we supposed to meet your friends?”

“We’re close, don’t worry.” Orthoclase pranced a little, to keep himself warm. “By the way, I really wanted to ask you: have you ever been to the capital?”

The capital… Sombra turned grim at the very mention of that word. There was nothing but painful memories of filth filled streets, roaring guards, the sour smell of low quality alcohol and the wet squelchy ground he dug into. He felt a little sick when the flood of memories filled his head.

“No, I’ve never been there.” Sombra spat on the ground, trying to get the bad taste out of his mouth.

“That’s a real shame. I heard that there are no houses - only castles instead! And each castle is made entirely out of crystals. I wonder how it’d feel like to live inside a crystal palace.”

“Hah.” Sombra couldn’t help but sneer. “I doubt there’s anything like that, Ortho… Well, maybe in the central districts, close to the Emperor’s palace.”

“Perhaps. But I really want to see it with my own eyes one day.” Orthoclase replied in a strangely dreamy voice. “Oh, also, we’re there.”

The pair was standing in front of a small wooden hut. The desiccated walls had given away to age, rot and insects, and it felt like the slightest buck would knock the tiny hut straight down. Who would live here? Sombra wondered. Judging that it was seated at the very edge of the town, right next to the wilderness, he guessed that a forester would live here.

“Is this where your friends live?” he wondered, eyeing the hut up close.

“No. We just meet here. An old forester used to live here, but he left Granitza ages ago. It is deserted.” Orthoclase said, approaching the door and pushing it open. “Come on in, don’t be shy.”

Sombra didn’t really know what to expect of this little hideout of Ortho’s. He didn’t even know whether his friends would accept him into their little circle, if he would want to join at all.

The inside of the hut looked much more presentable than the outside. The floor was wet and squeaky, the boards let out a long sqealch even from the lightest step. The sour-sweet smell of rotting wood filled the air, intoxicating Sombra’s unprepared mind as he reeled back and forth a little. Only after setting his brains straight with a few shakes, he noticed a pony besides him and Orthoclase occupying the hut.

A robust dark-green-hued crystal pony with dozens of tiny scars and scratches on his forelegs, was lying in a pile of hay, his hindlegs crossed. When Orthoclase closed the door behind them, he quickly rose up and looked at the newcomers.

“Oh lookie here. Our princess has finally returned.” He seemed not to have noticed Sombra until a split second later. “Oh… erm, hi.”

He shook his blonde mane, trying his best to shake the hay out of it. He growled in frustration, noticing even more hay stuck in his coat and started angrily swiping it.

Before he could finish cleaning himself, another pony entered Sombra’s sight: a lazy yawn could be heard before a maroon-hued stallion leaned from behind a small courtain. His short dark green mane looked sparkly and greasy in the light of an oil lamp, hanging under the ceiling.

“Hello Orth. Who’s that with you?” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. It seemed as though he had just awoken.

“Hello, guys! Long time no see!” Orthoclase said, approaching the green one and they hoofbumped. “Come on, Sombra, introduce yourself. Don’t be shy.”

Sombra took a few seconds to set his mind straight again and finally spoke up. “I’m Sombra… I’m… not from around here.”

“Sombra? That’s not a name you would hear everyday.” The freshly risen pony yawned and lazily dragged himself off the big pile of rags. “I’m Nev. The full name’s Nevinnyi, but that’s too long. Just call me Nev.”

“I’m Bulat. Sweet, strong and no need for shortenings.” The big pony said. His name fit him well, Sombra thought. In ancient crystallian poemas, bulat was a legendary metal, which was used to forge the most powerful of weapons. Nowadays, it was a synonym for a really sturdy material.

“Unimaginitive, don’t forget to add that.” Nev snickered, shaking his backside. “That has to be the lamest name I’ve ever heard.”

“Up yours, moron.” Bulat replied jokingly as he approached Sombra and extended his foreleg, offering a greeting. “Nice to meet you, Sombra. Welcome to the crew.”

“So, Orthoclase, where have you been hiding all this time? We’ve tried to pay you a visit, but to no avail, each time. Your mom told us you’re… sick. That’s not true, is it?” Nev murmured, looking at Orthoclase’s hooves.

“It was true… partially. Take a seat — it’s quite a tale.” Orthoclase’s face just seemed to say ‘your jaws are going to drop’.

Orthoclase proved himself to be quite the story teller. Every sentence was generously accompanied by excellent rhetoric. Even Sombra had to pause looking around and listen.

He started from the very beginning, briefly describing how Sombra was found and cared for, and right up to the great battle with the wolves.

“With the last wolf slain, we thought we were safe. We were gravely mistaken.” Orthoclase whispered the words like some sort of a spell, immediately drawing Nev’s and Bulat’s complete attention.

“What happened? Come on, stop beating around the bush. Say it!” Bulat pleaded, looking at Ortho with eagerness.

“The white alpha…” Orthoclase proudly announced and paused to let the thought sink into his listeners’ brains.

Nev and Bulat turned awfully quiet and looked at each other. Such a colorful array of emotions was in display between them — the most powerful among them being disbelief. And it was disbelief who triumphed over all other emotions; they exploded into roaring laughter.

“Oh, my! And I thought you were serious! Silly me, ha-ha!” Nev uttered under his breath. Bulat didn’t say anything, he just laughed louder.

“I am being serious! There was the white alpha right there, right in front of us!” Orthoclase sounded hurt and angry. Nev ceased laughing, only occassional giggles interrupting his speech.

“You really don’t know better if you’re saying things like that. If you really saw the white alpha, you would not be standing here in front of us. I once met a soldier who met the white alpha face to face.” He suddenly approached Orthoclase and pointed at his feet. “He was missing all of his legs. All of them!”

“I’ll have to agree with Nev on this one.” Bulat calmed down from his laughing fit too. “What the white alpha sees, it shall kill. Or, at least, cripple horribly.”

Sombra took a deep breath and stepped up. After all they had been through, it would be such a waste for their story to be brushed off as a simple fairtytale.

“He’s telling the truth. We saw the white alpha, and we didn’t die,” he stated firmly. Both Nev and Bulat looked at him with surprise.

“Hah! Will you believe me now?! You can’t argue with the witness!” Orthoclase exclaimed, delivering a lethal ‘take that!’ to his friends.

Bulat and Nev stood silent for a couple of minutes, and a feeling of uneaseness descended upon the little hut. Sombra even started to regret his decision to back Orthoclase up. This silence was stiffling.

“So… you saw it coming… then what happened?” Nev asked, still clinging to his disbelief.

“We stood still, motionless. It approached us and then… left.” Sombra spoke from the bottom of his heart. “I know it sounds like a pile of bullshit, but it’s true.”

Bulat hummed loudly, trying to decide whether he should believe them or not. Nev too looked troubled and confused as well. Then, he uttered a hopeless growl and lowered his head.

“Fine, then. It appears Orthoclase’s telling the whole truth, for a change.” Nev nodded and Bulat followed suit.

“I hope that’s a valid enough reason for me to be absent.” Orthoclase grinned, celebrating his victory over his friends. “So, what do you have planned for today?”

That was a question Sombra wanted to ask for a long time. They wouldn’t just hang out in this old hut all the time, they had to do something worthwhile. Deep inside Sombra felt a slight shimmer of hope that whatever they would be doing was legal. Going back to the way it was before — no, he would rather die.

“Well, it’s nothing out of the ordinary: we’ll go help the soldiers at the walls,” Nev replied in a bored voice. Oh, yes, the walls. Sombra had seen those massive constructions. They stood on the border, both its ends incising into the mountains that protected its sides.

The position of Granitza was quite cleverly chosen. It was located in a wide passageway between two steep mountain sides. If under siege, it would take the enemy months to bring the walls down or cross over them. More than enough time for reinforcements to arrive.

“Well, then, it is decided. Let’s head out!” Orthoclase exclaimed and trotted out of the hut. The rest three followed suit, but Bulat and Nev kept distance from Orthoclase, both wanting to strike a conversation with the newcomer.

“So, what do you think about our little town, Sombra? Better than any other places you’ve seen in your travels?” Nev looked up into the sky and sighed. Sombra shrugged in reply.

“It’s… okay, I guess,” he said, looking around, still finding the buildings unnerving.

“Granitza’s a great town. You just came at the wrong time — when it’s at its worst.” Bulat butted into the conversation. “Just survive till the summer. It’s a gorgeous time of year.”

Something told Sombra that Bulat meant ‘survive’ in the most literal way possible.

“Bulat’s right. Everything blooms in summer. The trees, the grass, the sky. Everything.” Nev smiled as he continued to look up. “Especially the sky.”

“Oh, quit your poem crap, Nev. It’s not the trees’ bloom you should be on the lookout for.” Bulat’s mouth widened in a smug grin. “It’s the mares, Sombra! The best thing about summer!”

Sombra felt a river crawling into his eyes, ready to spill out, but he drove it back relentlessly. She was in the past now. He had to forget her. He had to move on.

“Sometimes it amazes me, Bulat, how you fail to comprehend the beauty of anything beside a well-rounded ass.” Nev stiffled a chuckle.

“Oh, then go ahead and kiss a tree, smartass.” Bulat replied in a joking manner. “Can a tree ever hug you? Or invite you over to her house and…”

“Okay, okay, I get it, I can’t fuck a tree.” The sky failed to hold Nev’s attention anymore and he turned to Bulat.

“Well, if you try very hard…” Sombra said the first thing that came to his mind when it concerned fucking trees. Bulat and Nev glanced at each other and then exploded into laughter.

“Oh my… Oh, Emperor… “ Bulat uttered, constantly interrupted by his own laughter. “I just imagined it… Nev climbs up the tree and then humps it till the leaves fall off!”

“Oh by the Gods I can feel the splinters! Aaargh…” Nev’s face twisted in an expression of excruciating pain. Sombra didn’t know why, but he found it extremely amusing.

He suddenly realized that he hadn’t had a good laugh in quite a while. With Krystal, making crude jokes was never an option, often ending in a slight smack to the head from her and Iron Wheel was just straight up unfunny.

“Talking about oblong pride, how does it feel to have something like this growing out of your head?” Nev poked Sombra’s horn slightly.

“It’s okay, I guess. At times I feel like it’s not even there. Maybe I just got used to it,” he replied, dodging another poke aimed at his horn. “What, have you never seen a horn before?”

“I have. But I never touched a horn before.” Realizing what he’d said, Bulat’s cheeks became fiery red. “That… came out wrong.”

“Well, at least you didn’t say how polished and sleek it was.” Nev added and the trio burst into laughter. Orthoclase turned around with a confused look on his muzzle, which quickly forced the three to shut up.

“Come on, guys, hurry up,” he urged them, and Bulat quickly went from a peaceful trot to a slightly faster one, leaving Nev and Sombra behind.

“But seriously, it’s a great town. You just have to watch carefully if you want to see its true beauty. It could come up at any moment,” Nev said thoughtfully as he rushed to his crew.

Sombra slowed down for a moment and looked around, taking a good look at his surroundings. The old rundown houses, covered in snow and ice, a big stone wall with a few banners of Crystal Empire and the local noble swaying peacefully on top, the clear deep blue sky above his head...

What kind of charm would he find in all of this? Sombra didn’t know, but he felt like there was a lot of charm to discover. Maybe not in sightseeing, but in ponies who lived here. Who knew? He had only began his jorney to make this place his home.

Besides, if Bulat was to be trusted, he should wait until summer to see the best Granitza had to offer.

***

Sombra carefully leaned on the stone bulkhead and looked outside, into the distand land. He never bothered to inquire about what country Crystal Empire bordered with here and only just now did the soldier, who’d given them the task, unveil the mystery. It was shocking, to say the least — the Pegasi Republic.

Their lands were spread to the very horizon, free of any deep or dark woods or ugly hills. Only in the very distance Sombra could see a small patch of green — probably the forest. The sun was right over his head, and it created a strange illusion of a pacifying soft light pouring from the sky.

“Looks beautiful, doesn’t it?” Nev asked, leaning on the bulkhead as well. “This sight might be the only reason to come to the wall. It’s hypnotizing, really.”

“Yes, it is.” Sombra nodded in agreement and continued to stare on the beautiful landscape. Eventually, both ponies turned away and looked at their comrades, who were busy emptying the sacks of dirt on the slippery surface of the wall. That was the task the sergeant, a short dark blue hued pony with a cleanly shaved head, had given them — the most boring of the bunch, as Orthoclase said.

“You know, I really hope we will get something more exciting than throwing dirt on the ice when we’re enlisted.” Nev murmured, as both he and Sombra trotted towards their friends. “Oh, who am I kidding? That’s all we will be doing.”

“It’s not that boring.” Sombra suddenly sighed. “At least you get to enjoy the view.”

“It will get boring, eventually.” Nev replied in a saddened voice. “Everything will. There’s nothing so beautiful or breathtaking in this world that can hold your attention forever.”

No, Nev, there is, Sombra thought to himself but kept quiet, as they walked. For a moment, he thought what being a soldier would be like. Bearing through hardships, listening to your supperiors all the time, marching, fighting — that was all he knew about it. At least, what he could gather from Rubin’s lectures. Sombra was surprised to admit to himself that he was actually looking forward to it.

“How’s it going, Bulat?” Nev snickered evilly, when they walked up to the two exhausted ponies. “Need any help?”

“Yeah. It’s your turn, smartass.” Bulat replied, dropping a huge sack of dirt down on the stone floor and sighing contendently. “This is so damn exhausting.”

“Of course, you’re hauling it on your back!” Orthoclase exclaimed. “But we really do need a break, I guess. Five minutes and then back to work.”

Bulat nodded and then slumped down near the bulkhead, gasping for air. No pony, even as strong as him, could carry around this damn dirt for too long.

“Agreed. Five minutes is all I need.” Nev smiled, choosing himself a more reclosed place, a little away from the rest. Orthoclase sat down near Bulat instead.

Sombra turned around and looked at the town below him: from up here, it looked even more puny and cringeworthy. It was like Crystal City’s slums, but much smaller and twice as snowy and lifeless. And yet… Sombra felt warmer at its sight than in the capital. Granitza might not look fancy, but here he’d found a new family, new friends… Maybe he would find love too. Just maybe.

“Damn, it’s so boring… Say…” Bulat suddenly beamed as he turned to Nev. “Nev, are you up for some singing?”

“What?! No! No, no and no!” Nev responded angrily, swinging his hooves at Bulat as if he was offering him something nasty. “I don’t want to be laughed at again.”

Sombra turned around and looked at Nev when he heard his words. Singing… The memory of Lucia’s melodic voice was still present in his memory, and at times he would die to hear something as beautiful as that.

“Come on, Nev! I’m not going to laugh, I promise!” Bulat pleaded with a grin on his face, to which Nev replied with an angry scowl.

“I said no. And that’s final.” He kept his unrelenting defence even after Orthoclase joined in. The more they begged him, the louder Nev’s refusals sounded, and the stronger Sombra’s interest grew.

“How many times do I have to say no?” Nev murmured much to Ortho’s and Bulat’s dissapointment, but suddenly Sombra sat down by their side.

“You sing? I never would have thought,” he said.

“Well… I know a few songs but that doesn’t mean I can sing. I just… practise from time to time.” Nev looked away and blushed slightly.

“Come on, sing for us. At least this time. Please.” Sombra felt rather weird as he spoke those words. He hadn’t asked for anything from anybody for a long time.

“I, eh… ugh… Fine. Okay.” Nev cleared his throat as three friends settled down and prepared to listen. At least, Sombra was prepared. Nothing could disturb him — not the chilling wind, not the cold biting his backside. At this point of time, he became all ears.

The world turned quiet and even the wind seemed to cease when Nev took a deep breath and began to sing. His voice was different, so vastly different from Lucia’s, and yet Sombra understood they were two different things that could not be compared. Lucia sung of high feelings, of heroic deeds and impossible future, and her voice was supposed to represent that.

Nev, on the other hoof, sung about simple things. His song was that of a farmer, who walked across the field, covered in heavy snow. At first, Nev’s voice was shaking as if he was about to cry, as he spoke about the difficulties and hardships simple ponies have to endure to even see the light of the next day. But as he sung, he turned more and more bright, and the final couplets were sung in a loud, firm voice, that proclaimed the triump of good. Triumph of simple ponies, who would come to this field after winter, settle down, build houses, grow fields and prosper. Whatever was coming their way, they would get through it.

He sung about simple things, simple things that anypony who was distant from art or high feelings could understand. His voice wasn’t flowing like Lucia’s, it was flying along with the wind, like its equal.

Sombra closed his eyes as he listened to Nev, all heavy thoughts gone from his mind, swept away like dust. He was only sure about one thing: everything would get better, if he’d make it so. Through pain, suffering and other hardships he would reach a better future — a future where he could finally be with those he loved.

It made him so happy.

The Parade

Warm gusts of wind whistled past Sombra’s ears, jerking him out of his microsleep. He shook his head, clearing it of the fog that desperately called him back to sleep. In vain attempts to resist the desire to collapse and close his eyes, Sombra blinked several times in a very quick succession.

“I hate night shifts.” Nev yawned, rubbing his eyes and taking off his helmet. “Nevermind, I hate nights in general.”

“Who doesn’t?” Sombra took his helmet off and let the air brush his sweat-soaked mane. The spring was coming to an end and summer was looming on the horizon; its sweltering heat was already upon Granitza.

Out of all places they could have been guarding, Sombra and his squad got the most boring one: the eastern quarter of the town that had nothing in it except a few desolated and decrepit buildings, a handful of new ones and a pub.

“One of these nights, and I’ll chop off and cook my own balls.” Nev yawned again, putting his helmet aside and leaning against a crumbling, mossy wall. “Would be twice more fun than this.”

“I didn’t expect you to be that disgusting, Nev.” Sombra eyed the old ruins they chose as their temporary shelter for this night’s shift. The remains of what seemed to be a house reeked of wetness and rot — the wooden walls were crawling with parasites and the stone floor was covered with earth.

Local foals loved this place — who wouldn’t want to explore a ruined house as an imaginative child? In a second the old ruins turned into dangerous dungeons, white ants into monstrous demons. Their parents never shared their enthusiasm.

“Boredom turns me into a different person… Arrgh, they wouldn’t even give us a rifle! At least we’d do some target practice!” Nev murmured and swiped away a small insect that crawled onto his helmet.

“Yeah, like officers will gladly hoof out the most advanced weapons in the world to rookies like you.” Sombra cocked his head, peering at the starry sky in search of anything interesting.

He shared Nev’s concerns, though. Practicing with the crystal rifle back at Rubin’s house was great fun. Now, he only saw a rifle up close whenever their commanding officer Zvezda ordered him to charge it.

“Sounds logical,” Nev replied and looked up as well, sighing as the stars winked at them from high above. “Wanna go get something to drink?”

“Like?” Sombra levitated the helmet up and put it back on his head.

“Some kvass. Botchka keeps his pub open at night, as you’re well aware. Shall we?”

Sweet cold kvass. One of the most delicious beverages to grace the face of the world. Perfect for soldiers, since, while it contained alcohol, it was so little that it was virtually impossible to drink to intoxication.

“Well, why not? It’s not like anypony would want to steal these ruins.” Sombra shrugged and signalled Nev to lead the way. “But I’d love to see them try.”

As the two ponies headed out into the empty streets, the stars became even brighter, each and every one of them sparkling like drops of silver spilled on a dark canvas. A sudden flash of light pierced the sky; a shooting star flew across the darkness and disappeared into nothingness, leaving only a barely noticeable trail of sparks in its wake. Its beauty, however, went unnoticed by the two.

A tall wooden building with a small sign over the door reading The Golden Keg soon greeted Sombra and Nev with lights dancing in the windows. Sombra half expected to hear some noises and possibly a ruckus, but the pub was strangely quiet.

Nev pushed open the door, and Sombra felt warm air wash over him. The deliciously sour smell burrowed in the nostrils and left a sucking desire for a drink in his stomach. He heard Nev exchange some friendly greetings with the owner and quickly hurried inside.

“Brave soldiers! Feeling thirsty all of a sudden?” Botchka, a brown-colored pony with a greasy short mane and messy beard, smiled at his guests. Whenever he smiled, the scars that covered the most of the right side of his face would stretch so much, it seemed they were about to rip open. “What can I get you?”

As they sat down and Nev started a conversation with the old innkeeper, Sombra took a moment to look around. What a strange feeling — every time he came here, he always wanted to look around, as if something would change in the interior. But it was always the same old chairs, big round tables and, the most important part, a huge keg towering behind the barstand. It was the tavern’s namesake: made from gilded willow, a wood that never paled or turned dim.

Botchka would never miss a chance to tell his visitors how he got his hooves on such a magnificent work of art — and what a story it was. If Botchka was to be believed, he found the keg in the dungeons of a gryphonian lord, whose name was lost to time and fizzing ale, during his better days as a highwaypony. The only reminder he left behind was Botchka’s maimed face and a missing eyeball, which, according to Botchka, the gryphon crushed with his very claws.

However, despite its brilliant backstory, the keg wasn’t as interesting to most visitors as the heads of white alphas killed by the hunters hanging on the wall. When drinks were served, Sombra drank just a few sips and turned to the empty eyes of the beasts, staring at him from the wall.

These trophies were a rather bitter reminder of his first encounter with the white alpha as well as the fact that it was never caught and had never appeared afterwards. It seemed as though the wolves retreated and left Granitza alone forever.

“Scary beasties, aren’t they?” Botchka chirped, hoofing the soldiers their cups. “Perfect for fairytales. Puts the little ones to sleep perfectly.”

“More like makes them piss their beds.” Nev gulped from his cup and licked his lips. “And I wouldn’t blame them.”

For a moment both soldiers drowned their muzzles in their drinks and a weary silence loomed in the tavern. Only the whistling of the wind and the crackling of burning logs in the fireplace would disturb it. The warm air was like a blanket and it made Sombra feel sleepy.

“Any news from the outside world? Just wondering.” Sombra drowned his yawn in kvass. “It’s been a while since anything interesting happened.”

“Hey, if waking up at first daylight to march for the entire day and then getting a night shift is boring for you, I’d rather not hear what you find exciting! I want my sanity intact, thank you very much.” Nev joked, turning to Botchka. “But he has a point. Anything new in the world?”

“I’d offer you some gossip spreading throughout the town, but you’re way too sober for that.” Botchka scratched his scars. “A caravan with supplies arrived at the town hall. Probably preparing for another of Crumbled Paper’s banquets.”

When Botchka said that name, both Nev and Sombra spat on the ground in disgust. The governor of Granitza had earned himself the reputation of a ghost. He rarely appeared in public, and when he did, he was always followed by a couple of guards and high-class administrative officials of Granitza. In short, a bunch of thugs and a couple of retarded idiots who couldn’t tell a wolf from a tree. They were especially loathed among soldiers for their love for inspections and complaints on spending. Though, scrupulosity and love for money were a necessary trait for an earth pony.

“And who’s that earth-digging scum going to invite this time?” Nev gritted his teeth, a little drop of sweat running down his neck. If he got any more angry, it might just vaporize instantly. “I swear, if he organizes a parade right before the Summer Festival, I’ll personally throw his ass back into Dirtville.”

“What if it’s during the festival?” Sombra smirked, earning a hateful glance from Nev.

“Then I’m going to murder him.”

“We’ve got a coup on our hooves here.” The bartender stiffled a giggle. “I don’t know whether he’s going to throw a parade or not, but I’m pretty sure he’s receiving some important guests. Maybe our revered Lord decided to show up for a change.”

“You think so? It’d help if I actually knew what he looks like.” Nev finished his drink and smiled. “He’s probably ugly as all Abyss if he never shows up in public.”

“All nobles are ugly. Not necessarily on the outside,” Sombra murmured under his breath, pushing the empty cup away from himself. “How about we switch the subject? All this parading and banquet shit is making me depressed.”

“And we don’t want you to be brooding any more than you already do, eh?” Nev always knew how to lighten up the mood. Or make it twice as dark. He couldn’t usually distinguish between the two. “Since I mentioned Summer Festival, how are the preparations, Botchka?”

“They couldn’t be any better! I’ve got at least ten barrels of fresh ale just waiting to be chugged. It’s going to be a blast.” Botchka was always welcoming for any celebrations. He’d even share booze for free if he trusted you enough. “But don’t worry, for you soldier guys, I’ve got a bottle of the finest vodka ready. It’ll be ice cold when the time comes.”

“Oh, we will be ready, believe me!” Nev exclaimed with a satisfied grin. “Just make sure not to let Bulat near it, like last time.”

“Oooh, please don’t make me remember. I’m still having nightmares about having to carry him to the barracks.”

“And having to listen to his jokes! By the Emperor, a real comedian died in that pony. And have been dead long enough to smell rather foul.” Nev laughed and got up. “Alright, I think we’ve been sitting here for long enough. Let’s go.”

Sombra silently nodded and tossed a few gold coins on the table. Botchka would definitely let them drink free of charge, but everypony deserved a proper compensation, Sombra always thought to himself. With their thirst satisfied, they walked out into the night, back to patrolling the empty streets. Thankfully, their efforts of guarding absolutely nothing would soon be rewarded by the Summer Festival.

***

The loud buzzing of the crowd was quite rare in the usually empty Granitza. So were the many displays filled to the brim with weird wooden toys, exquisite homemade food or pretty clothes and dresses. During the Summer Festival, all of it was present, even if for a short time.

Sombra and his entire squad of 12 ponies were assigned to patrol the streets and catch troublemakers on this sunny day. Officer Zvezda ordered each one of them to follow a separate route — that way, they could cover more ground, in his opinion.

Sombra didn’t mind being alone for this instance; he wanted to browse some goods on his own anyway. He didn’t have an exact target in mind, but anything that would make life in the barracks a bit livelier would do.

His eyes were mostly drawn to displays of food and jewellery, but occasionally Sombra would stop near a tiny stage and watch a short spectacle. Usually it would be a short scene from an ancient legend played by extremely unprofessional actors. Either sounding extremely bored and detached or dramatically overdoing their role, they provided a good laugh for a second or two, then the crowd would disperse be on their ways.

Sombra took a moment to buy a loaf of freshly baked bread from a stand and continued on his merry way, munching some of it. A thousand times better than the gruel we get in the barracks’ canteen, Sombra thought to himself. As he was walking, the crowds around him became thicker until he reached a big open plaza, with a stage placed in the centre. The construction was shoddy, made in haste and probably couldn’t hold more than five ponies.

He stopped for a moment to look at the stage. The big red curtain that served as the background had several patches of different colours in it. There were heaps of white cloth everywhere on stage, and a fake sun made of carton hanging on a rope above.

Each year, the same show would be performed on this very same stage for everypony’s amusement — the recreation of the old legend of Winter and Summer. In the first act, the Winter, usually played by a stallion in a wolf’s costume representing white alpha, would come out and try to frighten the crowd with the promises of endless blizzards and the army of wolves. Then Summer, usually represented by a young mare dressed in all things green, would tell the Winter off, usually in rhyme.

The cheesiness and cheapness of the performance was baffling to Sombra. He could never watch it in its entirety without cringing. But for most ponies this was the most anticipated part of the Festival. Perhaps it lifted up their spirits, let them know that winter was over and it was time to relax and stop fearing for their lives.

For Sombra, this was a mockery of winter, a failed attempt at relieving those who managed to survive — but to each his own, as they said. Sombra preferred to dedicate his time to something else entirely.

“Hello!” A familiar mellow voice suddenly shouted in his ear. Sombra shuddered a little before regaining his composure and turning to the source of it.

A young mare around the age of sixteen was standing right beside him, smiling. A grey mane framed her pretty face. Her cheeks rosy a faint blush, she was looking straight into Sombra’s eyes.

“Silver? I, uh, wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He murmured, turning his sight away. Next thing he knew, Silver leaned on him and burrowed her muzzle in his mane. “Agh! What are you doing?”

“Come on, big guy, don’t be an ass,” she purred, wrapping her forelegs around his neck. “I know you’re happy to see me.”

“Just not when you cling to me like that.” Sombra gently escaped her embraces. “I thought we agreed upon this. What we had was a one night stand, not a sign of a stable and healthy relationship. Please, keep that in mind.”

“What, you’re afraid of scaring away my future husband? You’re being too harsh on yourself, you’re not that ugly.” Silver grinned, sticking her tongue a bit. Sombra couldn’t help but sneer at the remark.

A pony standing nearby angrily gazed at Sombra and Silver, prompting them both to look back.

“Thank you for such invaluable input into my rumour box, thank you very much, now please could you both discuss your affairs as far away from here as fucking possible?!” The stranger looked rather sanguinary, so Sombra didn’t tempt fate and ignored his injured pride.

“Sorry for troubling you.” He bowed his head, turning away from the angry eavesdropper. “I need to go. I’ve got a job to do.” Then, he turned around and started forcing his way through the thickening wall of ponies. Despite Sombra’s intimidating look, stature and soldier’s uniform, ponies just didn’t seem to notice until he had squeezed through, usually prompting an angry remark or a comment about how rotten, disgusting and non-orthodox the colts were nowadays from the elderly.

He could hear Silver calling out to him, probably asking him to slow down but instead he pressed onwards. Hopefully, she would get the hint and move on with her life — for her own sake, at least.

Only when Sombra was out of the rag fair, he could take a deep breath and relax. Coming to the plaza was clearly not the brightest of ideas he could have had. Meeting Silver here was even more unfortunate. His consciousness was still screaming at him for leaving her like that, but Sombra knew he did the right thing.

Safe from the noise of the crowd — which gradually grew quieter every step he took — Sombra paused for a moment and looked at the wall protecting the town and wondered what it would be like to live on the opposite side of it. He’d asked himself that question a thousand times already but it kept coming back. There was a whole world out there and he was still here.

Driving away the pseudo-philosophic dribble from his mind, Sombra perked up and headed straight for Golden Keg. If he was lucky, he’d be the first of his squad to arrive to the “improvised field headquarters”. When Sombra and his friends told Zvezda about the little surprise Botchka prepared for them, he’d immediately changed the point where they’d meet after their rounds to the tavern.

Pretty soon it was in Sombra’s sight. As much as Sombra could make out from the distance, it was quiet inside, which meant he’d arrived first. Delighted, Sombra trotted inside, pushing open the door.

“Hey, Botchka!” he exclaimed immediately upon entering, but no friendly reply followed. The answer was only silence. Rather curious by that, Sombra looked around the tavern; there was nopony at the tables, nopony behind the counter. It looked as though the pub was completely empty.

Sombra swallowed nervously, mentally preparing himself for anything, be it robbers or wild animals. A good innkeeper like Botchka would never leave his establishment open unless he was ready to provide services. There was something very off about this. Treading quietly, Sombra proceeded deeper into the tavern, until he heard voices coming from downstairs, from the cellar.

Sighing with relief and irritation, Sombra eased up and quickly descended down via a passage deep within the tavern, behind the golden keg.

The cold damp air filled his lungs, creeping down his throat like a gulp of ice-cold water. The green moist moss covering some parts of the stone wall glistened in the warming light of an oil lamp. Big oiled barrels took the most space of the cellar; the remainders were filled with spare chairs and tables. Sombra scanned the room and found the source of the familiar voices in the very corner.

“And then he says - breathe, idiot! Breathe!” boomed the loudest voice in the company. It was impossible not to recognize Zvezda’s speech — his loud hoarse baritone was perfect for the pony of his position. “Oh! Look who just got here!”

Ten rather intoxicated-looking muzzles turned to Sombra, all beaming with excitement. Sombra eyed them with a drop of scorn.

“So this is what I get for doing my duty, eh?” he grumbled, walking towards the table. Most present snickered at him, Zvezda only put up a shit-eating smile. “Ya bunch of drunk dicks.”

“Hey, I take offense to that. I’m not drunk.” Nev smiled as the crowd burst into laughter. Even Sombra couldn’t help it.

Without further ado, Zvezda poured Sombra a cup of vodka, welcoming him into the delightful world of insane blabbering and horrible headaches. With slight enthusiasm, Sombra accepted the cup from his commanding officer and drank the entire cup dry. It was proper to down the first drink in one go, then you could just go on your own pace.

Sombra didn’t rightly know the origins of this tradition. Perhaps it was to level the playing field for the oncoming conversations — to make all ponies present equally smart. Or stupid.

“Ugh, darn…” Sombra coughed, the cold vodka streaming down his throat leaving a burning sensation. The pony on his left passed him a small slice of bread, which he quickly swallowed almost without chewing. When the burning stopped, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Where have you been wandering for so long?” Bulat leaned on the table, looking at him. “And don’t say about patrol, I’m not buying that.”

“He probably went shopping, like a damn housewife.” Zvezda smirked evilly, peering at Sombra like a vulture. “What’dya bring back this time, honey? A new spoon? I’d love a new spoon.”

“I wanted to buy something, but… never got to it. Just ended up walking around.” Sombra kept rubbing his temples in vain hope of driving away the slight dizziness.

“Well, the festival will go on for a few days; you’ll still be able to get something later.” The pony with dark-blue mane and a red ribbon tied to his ear — which he was wearing all the time for reasons he never explained — said. His actual name was Chern, but everypony just called him Ribbon.

“Come to think of it, it’d be great if we could redecorate the barracks,” said the one sitting right next to Bulat, a pony with chestnut coat and mane of the same colour. Sombra did know his name but never bothered to remember it, they never talked that much.

“Shopping, decorating…” Nev snickered, looking at Sombra. “Come on, be fair, who’ve you set your preying eyes upon?” Other ponies quickly turned their eyes to Sombra.

“I didn’t. You may or may not believe it, but I was actually just taking a stroll.” Nopony believed him. Nopony would believe him even if he was telling the truth. There was no point in hiding anything. “Okay, maybe I met somepony and talked to her for a moment or two.”

“Really? I thought you could manage more than a moment or two.” Bulat’s remark sent some ponies present into a laughing fit.

“Seriously, Bulat, it’s always crude humour with you all the time! Be original for a change.” Nev exclaimed, facehoofing. “One day your jokes will kill me, I’m sure of it.”

“It’s way funnier than your metaphysical stuff, Nev.” Orthoclase joined the conversation, much to Nev’s disappointment.

“I’m sorry for making my jokes too complicated for you, my dear! I’ll try to be less clever next time.”

The discussion raged on as more and more joined in to discuss the nature of a good joke in their own unique way — by trying to outshout each other, in hopes of getting the point across through sheer volume. However, all the happy banter ended immediately when Zvezda struck the table with terrifying force.

“Done bickering? Good. I’ve got a toast.” He grabbed the bottle once more and poured a small amount into each cup. “This one’s mandatory.”

Everypony raised their cups, waiting for Zvezda to deliver his rousing speech. Whether it was before training or before drinking, it was always short and always hit the spot.

“Comrades, there have been many dark days in our service. We had to endure through winter, protect our fellow ponies from ferocious beasts and still manage to survive ourselves. But we endured all of it. We’re strong, my friends, we won’t be broken, we can’t be broken. Yet I still drink to your strength…” He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “To endure the welcoming parade next week. Ura, comrades.”

Zvezda emptied his cup while others stared at him in disbelief, disappointment and a slight touch of uncontrollable killing rage. Then, they clinked their cups and drank everything, silently.

“Talk about fucking irony.” Nev whispered to Sombra, who smirked in reply.

“Alright, ladies, let’s get going. We’ve got a whole week ahead of us, so we’ve got a lot of time to prepare. Don’t even think about killing yourself before the parade — I’ll dig up your corpses and make you regret ever dying in the first place. Understand?” Officer Zvezda’s threats were always partially amusing and partially nightmarish. But out of all officers Sombra could have served under, he wouldn’t pick a different one than him.

“Yessir!” The soldiers shouted in unison, preparing to venture back outside and accomplish their duty of protecting the city, upholding the law and not dying of boredom in the process.

***

“One! Two! One-two-three!”

Zvezda’s loud voice reverberated in Sombra’s ears. The sound of drums accompanying it made it feel like a full scale siege of one’s brainpan, a very organized and well-planned one.

“Come on, colts, we ain’t on a funeral! Sing on my command!”

The drums were accompanied by the triumphantly blasting trumpets. Their pompous resonance dominated the already noisy plaza, and yet even it yielded to the power of the one hundred voices that formed a powerful chorus. The song was simple in its construction and had even simpler meaning: to praise the arriving guest.

Sombra felt extremely sick today, for no particular reason. But even standing by his friends and compatriots, all dressed in the fanciest armour their little garrison could manage to get, caused his throat to constrict to stop the bile from spilling. Anything he saw as he marched onwards, keeping in rhythm with everypony else, birthed so many cynical comments Sombra wondered if he turned into Nev for a moment.

As if by coincidence, the summer was in full power on this accursed day — the heat was unbearable, especially in black cloaks they had to wear. A soldier might look stone-faced on a parade, but underneath that stoic mask was a pony screaming internally for this damned parade to end as fast as possible.

The collumn of soldiers stopped their march in the middle of the plaza, continuing to stomp out the melody for their song, even as the drums and trumpets grew quiet. Then, a loud command, growled by the leading officer, ordered everypony to be quiet.

“Alright, guys,” Zvezda whispered to his subordinates, still trying to preserve a straight face. “We’ve got the ‘honour’ of standing in the first row, so don’t fuck this up. I need you to be at the top of your game today.”

His quiet command was met with quiet disapproval. None of his squad, not a single soul, looked forward to what would happen next.

“I owe you all a drink… Two drinks.”

The eleven ponies all replied with a loud ‘ura’ to such an offer. Thinking it was part of the program, all other soldiers joined them in the loud celebration.

Underneath the black cloak, Sombra felt as if his skin was slowly peeling off, boiling into a mass of bloody goo. The sweat was dripping down his body, the non-too-pleasant aroma of body odour assaulting his nose, mostly coming from ponies next to him. His mane clung to his face, especially underneath the helmet. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Sombra felt a biting pain in his stomach, making it really feel like he was about to get sick.

To drive his mind away from unpleasant physical details, Sombra examined his surroundings: the town was clearly prepared for the Lord’s visit. The roads were cleaner than usual, the buildings near the roads and in the centre were properly painted in just a matter of a few days. Too bad it was only for looks — the inside of the newly painted houses would probably be still as rotten as it was before.

Ponies that were brave and curious enough to come out all bunched up in small groups and stuck as far as possible from the parading soldiers, to avoid any trouble. Most, however, stuck inside their little wooden boxes and leaned out of windows, observing the parade with interest.

Just as Sombra started considering bludgeoning himself to death with his own helmet, the sound of hooves striking the ground along with the creaking wheels reached his ears. Everypony perked up for a moment, turning to the source of the sound.

A fancy looking stagecoach, towed by two feral-looking ponies, creaked and squeaked its way to the center of the plaza. The golden ornaments on its doors and sides were covered in thick layers of mud and dust, the flag on the back of the stagecoach was blackened and stained with dirt and, even from where he was, Sombra could see small cracks in the wood.

The plaza shook as the drums and trumpets blazed once more, lauding the arrival of the stagecoach. The musicians weren’t half-bad, probably very well paid — after all, there was no obstacle that could stop Crumbled Paper from sucking up.

The door of the stagecoach swung open and Crumbled Paper climbed out, carefully watching his step. His sickly body shuddered at the touch of the wind, even despite the sunny weather, and he pranced in one place to warm himself up before finally assuming the prideful stature of an announcer.

“Loyal subjects of our beloved and venerable Emperor Lux, peaceful residents of the town of Granitza! I, your respected governor, Crumbled Paper, am proud to announce the arrival of Lord Radiant!” Paper mustered all his strength to make himself be heard. He spoke slowly, enunciating every word, and yet sometimes a slight shiver sneaked in.

The sight of this weak earth pony, his carefully styled dark-brown mane and sleek chestnut coat was enough to make the locals cringe. But when he started speaking... that was when Sombra felt truly bored. It felt as though at any point Paper would stop talking and Radiant would take a step out of his little stagecoach and into the real world, but he kept on talking… and talking… and talking.

How come ponies that are interesting, witty, funny or just plain enjoyable to listen to have to be silent in the presence of the one who might as well be mute, Sombra thought to himself. Slowly his mind was drifting away from the real world and in a few moments he couldn’t hear Crumbled Paper at all — he was too deep in thought.

He heard a few angry whispers, but didn’t pay attention to them, instead wondering how to spend the rest of this day, hoping that this event would end soon. Really, he’d rather be anywhere than here.

“You! H-h-how dare you!” Sombra suddenly heard Crumbled’s voice, shaking with fury, right in his face. Dragged out of his thoughts he quickly found himself face to face with the earth pony who had to look up in order to meet his eyes.

Sombra felt a chill run up his spine and barely managed to keep his emotionless mask up. So many curses were gathering in his lungs, all directed at himself. How could he let his guard down, especially at such an important moment? Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now he was going to be crucified, and he wouldn’t even know why. Did he miss a salute? Was he asked a question? Did he not hail when he was supposed to?

“A Lord is the Emperor’s right h-h-hand! You’re offending the Emperor himself, you b-b-baffoon!” It looked as though Crumbled Paper was just as nervous as Sombra, only he had to speak. “I knew you stinking savages had no shame, b-b-but this is just ri-...ridi...-ridicilous!”

His stuttering was only made worse by the fact that he spat every time he tried to express anger. If this was to continue, Sombra would be soaked by sweat and saliva.

“Sir, I’m so…” Sombra tried to take the first step to resolving the conflict, in the vain hope that Crumbled Paper would be content with having him humiliated in public, but his plans were shattered into dust as he felt a heavy strike to his cheek. Well, it was supposed to be a heavy strike, but Crumbled wasn’t really strong.

“Don’t speak unless spoken to, you b-b-barbarian! You vandal! H-h-hooligan!”

Sombra’s eye twitched as his desire of ripping Paper’s insides out of his mouth and then choking him with them grew alarmingly. Despite being right next to him, Crumbled Paper was hidden behind a wall so thick not even a battering ram could destroy it — the wall of inequality. He was protected, Sombra wasn’t.

“But I was spoken to, sir.” He went for round two. Maybe a little common logic would pour a vat of cold water on Paper’s boiling anger. “You spoke to m…”

Another strike. This one felt a bit more hurtful, because it was expected. And it was a sign that common logic didn’t work in this situation.

“Sh-sh-sh-shut up! Shut up!” Paper growled through his teeth, which made him spit even more than before. Sombra closed his eyes in an attempt to contain his anger.

He was humiliated in front of his friends. The entire town. He’d be a laughing stock for entire months, maybe even years, just because he got distracted. It just couldn’t get any worse.

“And even now you’re still asleep, you m-m-moron! You’ll be strung for this, I swear!” The strike didn’t connect this time. Sombra predicted it and dodged it with ease.

Then, he delivered a strike of his own.

As Crumbled Paper rolled over in the dust, groaning in pain, vainly trying to stop the blood flowing from the broken nose, Sombra realized he underestimated his own strength and Paper’s ability to take a punch. Also, he just probably signed his own death warrant.

A shocked sigh flew through the air, all ponies present averting their gazes from Sombra to Crumbled Paper. Instead of one shattered reputation, they got two today. Quite a record for Granitza.

“Whuh… you… you!” Crumbled Paper rattled in helpless fury, slowly getting up from the ground. His face was smeared with blood and it was still streaming down his muzzle and dripping on the ground — a rather gruesome sight. “You’re dead! I’ll have you executed! You’ll…”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, for a huge bag made of black leather hit him right in the back of the head. Once more he slumped back down on the ground, pinned by the seemingly massive weight of the bag. Dumbstruck, Sombra looked to where the bag had come from and his boiling blood froze at the sight of the offender in a matter of seconds.

The door of the stagecoach was open and an elegant mare gracefully stepped outside. Her sapphire mane framing the insidious grin on her face; the dark violet coat mostly concealed by a thin, black and scarlet cloak — Sombra had never forgotten her. She came to him in nightmares.

“I thought I said catch!” Larissa giggled, trotting over to the fallen earth pony. “Or were you too busy shouting at this poor soldier?”

Crumbled Paper could only muster a few moans. The pain was probably unbearably for a pony of his complexion. Sighing playfully, Larissa used her magic to lift the bag and put it aside.

“He- he has insulted his majesty.” He finally spoke when he stood up, holding a hoof at his nose to stop the bleeding. “And he assaulted me! He must be punished.”

Larissa looked at the dumbstruck soldier, her eyes widening. Swiftly shifting to Sombra’s side, she looked him dead in the eyes, her smile widening with each passing moment.

“Oh, Crumbly, assaulting you is such a heinous crime! The Empire wouldn’t stand losing a fine asset such as you… Why, not just the Empire! The entire world! Our poor little world would just fall into the depths of the Abyss if poor Crumbled Paper was to suddenly pass away.” She moaned in feigned concern. Then, she once more turned her gaze to Sombra. “You’re such a bad boy! My, you have no shame! No shame at all!”

She turned around, still smiling, her tail brushing Sombra’s cheek briefly.

“I shall choose the punishment for this soldier. From now on, he’s in my personal care.” Crumbled Paper looked mighty shocked and very disappointed as the words left Larissa’s mouth. This wasn’t the outcome he’d expected, not at all.

“L-L-Lady Inquisitor, with all due r-r-respect… I believe it would be better if the judgement was handled by Lord Radiant… I th-th-think…”

“So, my authority, granted to me by the Emperor and the Grand Inquisitor, no longer matter just because you th-th-think?” Larissa smugly giggled at her own parody of the stuttering fool.

“B-B-But...b-b-but…”

“Butt? You have two already — one for your behind, the other’s for your face, why would you need another?” Larissa chuckled at the cringe-worthiness of it. “If you’re in such a dire need of Radiant’s approval, run off to him. He’ll confirm that I have more authority over this entire town than you have over own body, it seems.”

Looking crestfallen, Crumbled Paper looked around and retreated back to the stagecoach, his shoulders slumped. This wasn’t of any help to Sombra, though, as he was now face to face with the demon of his past.

“Hello, sugar. Long time no see,” Larissa cooed gently into Sombra’s ear. Then, she took a step back and eyed the large crowd of soldiers, who were still standing there waiting, their emotionless masks still on. “And what are you all waiting for? The parade’s over, you’re all dismissed.”

There was no reaction. The soldiers stood as if nothing happened. Larissa sighed and took off the clasp that kept her cloak on her shoulders, holding it into the air.

“I, Larissa of the Inquisition command you: this parade is over and you’re all dismissed!” The clasp, a sun with spears jutting out around it like rays of light, was proof enough to the officers that she, indeed, belonged to the Inquisition. The officers shouted their commands, preparing to march home.

“Run off now, sugar. I’ll catch you later.” Larissa whispered into Sombra’s ear, pushed him back into the line and hurried back into the stagecoach, not forgetting to levitate her heavy bag along with her.

As the soldiers walked back to the barracks, Sombra didn’t talk to anypony, and nopony approached him. They all needed a little time to let everything that happened sink into their heads. But Sombra was having much bigger problems.

Memories were slowly flooding back into his mind, memories of his past life. They all were brought by the devil in the black corset.

Slowly marching along with the rest, Sombra wondered if it would be a good idea to drown everything in ale. Perhaps somepony would join him so he wouldn’t look as pathetic. But these were thoughts for later. Right now, he just wanted to lie down in his bed and snuggle the pillow and dream, dream, dream this disgusting day away.

***

“Come on, Sombs, don’t be like that.” Nev leaned over his full cup which he hadn’t touched ever since they’d sat down. “It can’t be that big of an issue.”

“But it is.” Sombra downed his cup to which Nev sighed heavily.

Out of four ponies present at the table, Sombra was the only one who’d touched his cup. It was his first round and he already felt sick — and yet, he didn’t know any other way to drive away the thoughts about that horrid parade. And then Larissa... Just mentioning her name to himself made Sombra chug what remained of the ale in his cup and slam it back on the table.

The Golden Keg was quite full today. After a long day, ponies wanted to unwind and forget all their troubles. In the loud discussions of somepony’s recent purchases, weather and political stability of a country nopony gave a shit about, the heavy thoughts drowned like gold coins in a river. Surrounded by others who’d come here to lament their troubles, Sombra felt just a little bit better.

“Do you seriously expect ponies to laugh at you after everything that happened? You’re a freaking powerhouse! You almost took Paper’s head off with that punch!” Orthoclase tried to add his own comments into the conversation.

“That’s the problem, Ortho.” Sombra sighted heavily. “I knocked the chosen of the Lord right on his ass. Do you think somepony as high and almighty would forgive having his trusted servants beat up by low-life trash like me?”

“Pff. The Lord can think whatever he wants. If he wants to get to you, he’s gonna have to go through me,” Bulat growled sombrely, flexing his neck. “I’ll show his pretty ass how we handle things in Granitza.”

“Yeah! Who the hell does that fucker think he is? Just because he graces us with his visit we’re supposed to kiss the dust he walks on? Not in a million years.” Nev scowled. “If he’s gonna mess with you, Sombs, he’ll mess with all of us.”

“What’s with that Inquisitor, by the way?” Orthoclase rubbed his chin. “She, for the lack of a better term, defended you. I mean, if you knocked Paper down on the ground, she ground his face into bloody pulp and then spat at the remains — figuratively speaking, of course. It seemed as though she knew you.”

Sombra flinched, not knowing what to say. Tell them the truth? Make up a lie? All those options seemed rather questionable at best.

“I don’t even know, to be honest. I’ve never seen her before in my life… Maybe she just wanted to piss Crumbled Paper off?”

“Most likely.” Bulat drank a bit from his massive cup. “She definitely has balls putting Crumbled Paper down like that. Like, a massive, huge sack!”

“Oh, gods.” Nev rubbed his eyes in disgust, angrily cursing his imagination and Bulat. Everypony at the table chuckled slightly.

“In the end, things aren’t that bad at all!” Orthoclase exclaimed, sipping some ale from his cup. “We’re there for you, Sombs. If there’s any problem, you just tell us. We’ll sort it out. Am I right, guys?”

“Damn straight.” Nev nodded, and so did Bulat. Sombra felt a beacon of warmth deep within his chest and it definitely wasn’t alcohol.

“Oh my, oh my, look at the small rebellion we’ve got going on right here.” The warmth quickly changed to a chill, when Sombra heard Larissa’s voice from behind. “May I join in? Rebellions make me feel all fuzzy inside!”

Sombra and his friends immediately stood up to hail their superior, but Larissa only snickered at them.

“A salutation! For me? Aww, sweethearts, I’m touched.” She playfully licked her fangs. “But I’m not up for a ménage à cinq today, I’m afraid. So you can just sit down.”

Exchanging glances, the soldiers slowly slumped down on their seats. Whatever cheerful spirit their conversation had, it was now gone in a moment’s notice, when Larissa daintily pushed another chair to the table and sat down.

“I know eavesdropping is bad… but I’ve never been much of a good girl, anyway. So, just to clarify — I don’t have balls, no matter how much you want to believe that.” She snickered, looking at Bulat, who blushed.

“I wasn’t, uh, speaking metaphorically… I, ah, mean I was speaking metaphorically… Not literally… Yeah.”

A weary silence hung over the table for a few moments. Eventually Larissa got too bored and fished out a small comb out of her corset, starting to work her tail with it.

“So how’s life? Family? Weather?” She yawned, looking at Orthoclase, who shuddered as if doused in cold water.

“Family? Uh, they’re all fine… My mom caught a cold a few weeks before… Got over it very quickly though,” Ortho murmured under his nose. “She’s a strong one, heh… A bit clingy, maybe. Whenever I and Sombra visit, she never lets us go without a dinner.”

“So you and Sombra live together?” Larissa’s expression changed to one of interest and she put the comb away. Sombra immediately tried to hint Orthoclase to change the subject using gestures.

“Uhh… nah, he just visits my house time from time. We’re friends, hehe.” Ortho let out a sigh of relief once the question was evaded successfully and Larissa turned her gaze to Bulat.

“And what of you, handsome one? Do you visit your friends’ mothers often, too?”

Bulat looked at her, confused, trying to untangle the web of innuendos Larissa weaved with every sentence.

“Ehm, no. I’ve got my own mother to take care of.”

“A good son. Your mother must take pride in you.” She smiled at Bulat, and for a moment it looked as if that smile was sincere. However, it disappeared quickly, when she turned her head to Nev.

“Excuse my rudeness, Lady Inquisitor, but I know why you’re here. You’re going to act all gently, collect information on us and then when we’re a problem you’re going to grab us by the balls and make things go your way. Let me disappoint you there.” He looked extremely serious, which, for some reason, made Larissa laugh. “You’re not going to get anything. We protect and uphold the law. Sure, somepony might take some time off from time to time, but that’s it. Nothing the Inquisition should be interested in.”

Nev couldn’t speak further as Larissa cracked up. She laughed and laughed until tears formed in her eyes.

“So serious! Oh my, this is hysterical!” She wiped off her tears, still giggling. “Do you actually think I came here to spy on you? Why would I even do that?” Larissa went through her mane with a hoof.

“I might be an Inquisitor, but I’m nothing like those old farts in robes. I don’t go around looking for traitors every day. In the end, I’m just a mare in need of good care.” She cringed at her coincidental rhyme. “Talking about care… I’ve got something to tell your friend Sombra — in private. So if you could leave us alone for a moment, I’d be very happy.”

“Not going to happen.” Bulat frowned, crossing his forelegs. “We need guarantees that he’s safe.”

“No, Bulat… I suggest you all go.” Sombra finally gathered courage to speak up. “I don’t want you to get in trouble just because I needed help. Don’t worry, I’ll be alright.”

Only after a reassuring glance, his friends all looked at each other, then got up and slowly trotted to the exit. Sombra took a deep breath — now, he was face to face with the insidious Inquisitor. Whatever she was going to say, he was ready.

“My my, you grew quite a bit.” Larissa switched her seat to the one right next to Sombra. “You were but a bratty colt back when we first met. But now… you’re a real stallion.”

She leaned closer to Sombra, her lips inches away from his ear.

“You know, I thought about you once in a while. As you can guess, those nights were… restless.” She cooed softly into his ear. He immediately leaned away from her, frowning.

“With all due respect, I’m not interested in such details.” Sombra murmured angrily. “What do you want from me?”

“But don’t you find it funny?” Larissa ignored his question. “First, you were living in the capital. Now, I find you here, the ass of the world. Did you walk here all on your own? What were you running away from? So many questions…” She closed her eyes, smiling. What thoughts were flowing through that sick mind of hers?

“This ‘ass of the world’ is my home.” Sombra snarled at her. “Why come all this way just to find me? Am I that important? You certainly seem to provide yourself with… entertainment without me!”

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Sombra.” He froze in shock when Larissa touched his cheek and turned his head to face her. “You’re not that important for me to track you. I was sent here because some idiot noble didn’t want me to be present in Crystal City. So I was sent here, to investigate Dust smuggling.”

She let go of him and turned away, her jovial behaviour gone.

“Even the last idiot in the Empire knows there are no smuggle routes on Republic-Imperial border. Pegasi don’t need Dust, since they don’t use magic and are already the best in bed — at least so I’ve been told.”

The atmosphere at this one certain table was getting more and more unsettling. Meanwhile, the rest of the pub continued to bustle and buzz, completely ignoring the drama that unfolded just steps away.

“The fact that we met is nothing short of miracle. It’s a blessing.” Larissa wiggled around a bit in her chair, it seemed as though her corset was causing her discomfort in such crowded and hot environment. “But enough foreplay. I came here to offer you a position as my personal bodyguard.”

Sombra turned to her, his eye twitching in shock. Those were the last words he expected to hear today and his answer was clear as day.

“No. I’m not doing that!” he answered angrily, ready to face any consequence for his tone. Larissa, however, seemed unfazed.

“An expected reaction. But you didn’t hear me out yet. For your little shenanigan at the parade, Crumbled Paper wants your head. And I’m not joking about it. He’s ready to sign an execution order at any given point.”

Sombra was dumbstruck. It had to be a bluff. Paper couldn’t just execute whoever he wanted, he didn’t have the right. He was just a governor, not a lord. Immediately, Sombra voiced his thoughts to Larissa, who shook her head in reply.

“Radiant doesn’t give two shits about you or Paper. He is ready to sign any order as long as it doesn’t take him much time, be it an execution or an award ceremony. The lord’s signature is not to be questioned. If the document has it, it’s legit.” Larissa put her hooves together, as Sombra turned more and more pale. “You have already seen how petty Crumbled Paper is. There’s nothing more dangerous than a dirt pony with something to prove.”

She leaned closer to Sombra, looking him straight in the eyes. “Nopony can protect you from him. Not your commanders, not your friends. They will all meet the same fate as you if they try to support you.”

Sombra closed his eyes, his very being shivering. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening. He had only begun to live a new life.

“Nopony will save you… But I can.” Sombra immediately gazed at her when he heard the words. “I put you in my personal care just for show back there, but if I really take you in… Crumbled Paper will be powerless. He has no authority over me, not even the Lord does. I can shield you, if… you agree to be my bodyguard.”

Sombra looked at Larissa long and hard. Just how cruel could a pony be to toy with the lives of others, using them for her own purposes? He drove away these questions. Larissa’s morals interested him the least in this situation. He was more concerned with his friends’ wellbeing.

“So, if I were to accept your offer… I’d be safe?” He swallowed, his stomach churning in realization of what a shitty set of choices he got.

“Yes. Completely. Being my bodyguard is pleasure, really; you’ll just have to accompany me everywhere I go and protect me. You’ll even get your own room in the town hall — I’ll make sure of that.”

Sombra’s imagination finished the picture that Larissa so obviously hid, concealing the details. He’d be her plaything, completely at her mercy. Who knew what was going through the mind of this mare? Even now, she was looking, devouring him with her eyes. He saw the hunger — she was obviously craving him.

“Don’t worry… I don’t bite.” She smiled demurely, baring her fangs slightly. Sombra took a deep breath.

“Very well… I accept.” He knew he had no choice, but he’d be damned if he’d succumb to her will completely. She might think she owned him now, but she was wrong. Sombra mentally prepared himself to stand his ground against Larissa, and yet not to alienate her at the same time.

“That’s terrific! I knew you’d make the right choice.” Larissa smiled at him. “You may run along to your friends now. I’ll inform your commander of your temporary switch to my service. We will get along just… fine.”

She licked her lips and got up from her chair, trotting gracefully to the exit. Sombra watched her all the way. Larissa certainly mastered the art of utilizing her body to get what she wanted and there was no denying that it was a work of art.

The primal instincts raged within him, and if he were to succumb to them, he’d be in her full possession. He’d be her slave. But Sombra was not going to be a victim of his own lust. Not this time. Not ever.

Quietly, Sombra tossed a few gold coins on the table and prepared to leave. Hard days were ahead of him, but he was sure he could make it through. Whatever plans Larissa had in store for him — she was in for a nasty surprise.

Ink

The interior of the town hall reminded Sombra of the noble mansions, much to his distaste. Merely standing in the main hall beside a pile of bags packed to the brim with his stuff made him feel sick. The pomposity and overzealous loyalty to fashion was such a big change to the simple design of any building in Granitza, it felt like he was dragged away into a different realm altogether.

While the hall wasn’t too big, it tried to compensate for that with a staggering amount of furniture, each piece probably made by the finest craftponies of the Unicorn Kingdom. The walls were covered with curtains of red and black, and those parts that were revealed would house a claw-shaped sconce holding a candle. There was a rug on the floor that felt rough and harsh like wild grass.

Larissa was standing nearby, looking at the pompous interior with a rather amused expression. “Quite a change of scenery, if I do say so myself. Much more appealing to the eye, don’t you think?”

“Not to mine, definitely,” Sombra replied, averting his sight from Larissa, who tittered at his disgruntled reply.

“Just don’t tell Crumbled Paper. He has already made a fool of himself, we don’t want him to realize his taste for décor is rather poor as well.” She signalled Sombra to pick up his bags and follow her. Grunting, he followed her orders and they continued onward, deeper down the hall and towards a flight of stairs leading to the upper level.

“It seems there are only the ground level and this upper floor. Where are we going to stay, I wonder?” Larissa hummed under her nose while looking around. “If Radiant makes me sleep in some dirty storeroom… Ooh my, will he regret ever being born!”

“I’m pretty sure this place doesn’t have a dirty storeroom. Not if compared to the rest of the town,” Sombra remarked sarcastically, completely ignoring his surroundings. Climbing the stairs with the bags weighing him down proved to be challenging enough to forget about the hall’s beauty. “Where are we heading, anyway?”

“To Crumbled Paper’s office, of course,” Larissa replied. “Radiant should be there. I’ll inform him of your purpose around me, take care of some paperwork and then we’ll head off to rest.”

“Then why the Abyss am I carrying my stuff for? Can’t I just leave it somewhere and get it later?”

“I never said you couldn’t do that.” Larissa smiled amicably as Sombra turned crimson. “You look so cute when you’re angry.”

Sombra wanted to reply with some kind of insult, but bottled up his anger and just swallowed nervously. As much of a bitch Larissa was, she was his only hope for survival in his current situation. Angering her would be as good as slicing his own throat.

After ascending to the upper floor, Larissa led Sombra through the door into the mayor’s office. Immediately upon entering, Sombra’s nostrils were filled with a thick aroma of tobacco. Not the filthy, throat-tearing stuff he used to smoke, but legit, expensive tobacco. It was ripping into his eyes, making them water. Without a single window and only a few candles burning under the ceiling to light the path, Sombra could barely make out the silhouettes of Crumbled Paper and a pony he presumed to be Lord Radiant.

“I thought I made it very clear that we do not want to be interrupted!” Crumbled Paper growled ferociously, turning around, and immediately turned ash-pale upon seeing Larissa. “Oh… my sincerest apologies, Inquisitor.”

“No-no, no need to apologize. I hate to interrupt tender moments between you and Radiant. If you’re really that busy, we shall leave.” Larissa bowed her head mockingly as Paper turned a shade of ripe red.

“There w-w-was nothing…” His expression changed to that of rage once he spotted Sombra. “What is this peasant doing here?! Who let him in here?! Guards! Gua—” He was interrupted by a harsh slap right across the face.

“Let’s make it easier for me: you talk when I say you may,” Larissa grumbled, shaking her hoof as if she just touched something nasty. “I have neither the time nor the patience to slap you every time you need to shut up… So, where was I? Lord Radiant, I hope you remember our last conversation?”

Sombra peered through the smoke and finally saw its source: an old, decrepit pony sitting at a table with a tobacco pipe in his mouth. His eyes were dim and muddy. His coat along with his mane was almost completely white. Flesh was hanging on his bones like sackcloth; legs were thin and shaky, ready to break from any pressure. Was this their supposed Lord?

“Yes… I most definitely… do.” Radiant spoke slowly, puffing out smoke even while speaking. “You were saying something about… a bodyguard?”

“Indeed. So, after a little while, I have decided that this young soldier will be my personal bodyguard throughout my entire stay in your… ehem… most exquisite town,” Larissa said. The eldritch pony peered at Sombra with his dim eyes.

Sombra made only a small bow and yet that still dealt a huge blow to his self-esteem.

“Very well… you may take him in…” Radiant murmured and started coughing. Crumbled immediately fetched a small towel and started wiping his master’s mouth.

“But Lord… it’s that scoundrel from the parade! It was he who assaulted me, your loyal servant!” After Radiant had finished coughing up a huge wad of saliva, Paper swiftly cleaned his mouth and threw the towel in the bin.

“You know I have no interest in your personal life, Paper. If the Lady Inquisitor wishes to keep this colt at her service, let it be so. I wish not to anger the Inquistion…” Radiant took a deep breath and laid down his pipe. “Now, please, leave this room. I must rest.”

“As you command, my Lord,” Paper said, slithering away and escaping the room as fast as possible.

“Much obliged, Lord Radiant.” Larissa made some sort of half-nod into Radiant’s direction, then signalled Sombra to follow her out of the office.

“Guh… I think I’m going to be sick.” Sombra couldn’t get the image of an old man coughing out a huge ball of Abyss-know-what into a towel. Was that how old age supposed to look like?

“I take it you enjoyed your time in there, then.” Larissa meant drily. “Worry not, I plan not to meet Radiant anymore. Since he decided to sleep instead of doing his job, we may safely proceed to our quarters.”

“Ye—... Hold on, our quarters? I thought we would sleep in separate rooms!” Sombra glanced at Larissa with irritation and anger, while she replied with a glance full of glee.

“Did I? Whoopsie! I may have… sugar coated it a little bit. Silly me!” Larissa put a hoof to her mouth in a fake expression of shock. “But you have to admit: guarding this body is worth losing a bit of your personal space.”

Growling under his breath, Sombra tried his best to resist Larissa’s sassy flirtations, as well as not staring at her massive tush. “Yeah, sure, whatever you say.”

“Good boy.” Larissa smiled, picking up pace and trotting ahead. With heavy heart, Sombra forced himself into a livelier trot despite the bags weighing him down.

***

To Sombra’s surprise, their quarters were located not in the upper levels of the town hall, but below the ground level. One thing Sombra noted about Granitza yet never quite understood was that every house had a cellar — most of them unused and left in shoddy conditions. Here, however, the cellar was used to its full capacity. It was a whole underground floor. One could almost get the impression that the building was ‘growing’ downwards.

“Quite a nice place, isn’t it? I really dig the architerture.” Larissa laughed at her own pun. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ve got the whole day for ourselves.”

Somehow that last sentence was more unnerving than it had any right to be. Sombra just shook his head clear of any weird thoughts and ventured straight to the bedroom. In architecture, it didn’t deviate from the royal standards of nobility, except a bit damper, being underground, and with a few more scratches on the furniture. However, the thing that disturbed Sombra the most was the fact that there was only one bed — a huge one, meant for two. His eyes fixated at the bed, Sombra walked to the nearby cupboard and dropped his bags near it.

“What, no comment about the bed?” Larissa’s resonating voice reached Sombra. He replied with a stifled groan.

“Somehow it doesn’t surprise me.” The only way her desire could any more obvious was if she tried to rape him.

“Aww, what a shame. I love surprising ponies,” she replied to his irritated groan. “Once you’re ready, meet me in the library. We’ve got things to discuss.”

Probably a collection of lewd books she needs to sort out, Sombra thought to himself. After he was done unpacking, he trotted into the library.

The instant he entered the room, his nostrils were filled with the smell of old paper. Despite being not too large, the library had accumulated such a huge amount of dust that it was nigh impossible to breathe. Trying to limit his breathing as much as he could, Sombra searched for Larissa and found her blowing dust off of the told tomes.

“So many manuscripts… It’s a shame they’re being held here.” She sighed, with a slight touch of sadness in her voice.

“I never imagined you’d be a big reader.” Sombra allowed himself a hint of sarcasm, which didn’t move Larissa too much.

“I’m not. I just find that our crystallian authors are much more skilled in writing. Be it education or fiction. I mean, have you ever read a Unicornian spell book?”

“Ehm, n—”

“They’re absolute trash! There’s little to no active spell casting — only worthless sophistry!” Larissa seemed to have slipped into some sort of trance. She just kept ranting. “Damn unicorns and their damn kingdom. Flooded the market with low grade trash.”

“If you say so.” Sombra, who had barely managed to finish studying the book on dark magic and that adventure novel the name of which he had forgotten over the years, clearly had no say in the matter.

“But oh well. I guess the higher-ups should decide what books we should read.” She hummed and turned to Sombra. “Now, puffy cheeks, answer my question: how much do you know about dark magic?”

Now that question Sombra definitely didn’t expect.

“I… Not much…” Sombra stuttered, skimming through his mind for any memory of dark magic. How long had it been since he last used it? And what it brought him? He would rather never remember. “Not much at all.”

“Interesting. You don’t know anything about it, yet your eyes scream otherwise.” Larissa grinned, quickly shifting to Sombra and putting her hoof on his temple, to get a better view of his crimson eyes. “Marvelous… How much energy must have went through you in order to change this much!”

Creeped out by Larissa’s commentary, Sombra took a step back. It seemed as though this mare could figure out far more about him that he would like. Noticing Sombra’s worry, Larissa bared her fangs in a smile.

“Don’t be so tense. Save it for the night, honey.” Walking slowly, she trotted past Sombra, her tail gently brushing his muzzle. “While hearing the tales of your past would make for an exciting noon, I am not too interested. I only want to know: just how much have you tapped into the dark arts?”

“What does this have to do with anything? Even if I did use dark magic before, it shouldn’t impact my ability to protect you.”

“Oh, I doubt your capabilities not, my noble knight,” she cooed, and then suddenly Sombra felt a soft touch on his back. “You’re strong, brave and enduring.” Larissa gently slid her hoof along Sombra’s spine, ruffling his mane and knocking off his helmet. “But don’t forget that you’re a unicorn. Right now, you’re an unrefined diamond. But once I’m done polishing you...” She whispered in his ear, her voice creeping into Sombra’s brain like a honey-covered worm.

“You want to… to teach me?” Larissa’s intentions began to open up a bit; however it wasn’t making things any easier. In fact, it was making everything much, much more difficult. “That wasn’t part of the deal. You didn’t tell me—”

“Did you forget? I like surprises - whether they’re for me, or by me.” Larissa walked past Sombra and sat down in front of him. “If you really expect to know about everything before it happens, then you’ll be pretty disappointed in your life.”

“Yeah… I get that…” Sombra wanted to find a reason to decline, to excuse himself and walk away… yet something was telling him that it would not be dangerous. Despite his past experiences, it was only knowledge — before, he was young and stupid. Now, he would be wise enough to let it sink in and never appear. He might be taught dark magic, but it didn’t mean he had to use it. Not after everything he went through. “Very well, then… If you find me so deserving of your spare time, I won’t protest.”

“Believe me, you’re more than worthy of my spare time, muffin.” Larissa cooed, trotting deeper into the library. “Let’s take a walk, shall we? I hate just sitting around.”

With all the enthusiasm of a corpse, Sombra followed Larissa deeper into the library. The lamps and torches got more and more scarce as they walked forward, forming a rather ominous ambience. Each next shelf of books looked more ancient than the previous one. The mayors of Granitza were really dedicated to collecting and guarding literature, it seemed.

“Now this really makes me feel homesick.” Larissa inhaled the stale air and sighed with pleasure. “Oh well. I guess when you’re that long away from home, it’s a given. But nevertheless, shall we begin?” Sombra nodded in reply, and she continued. “It’s an obvious fact that you have used dark magic before, Sombra. I don’t care why and for what reason, just answer me this - what book did you read when you first learned to harness your emotions? What was its name?”

“It’s… Scientia Tenebrae, I think.” Somehow, that name was still in his memory after all these years.

“Classy. It’s ironic, really. This book is studied at the University of Magic in the capitol, yet it contains barely enough information for a first grade student.” Larissa let out a light giggle. “Then I’ll have to start from the very beginning. Reveal the bones, as they say.”

Sombra was left to wonder where that metaphor came from.

“Many professors and teachers will tell you that magic is a wonderful alien hailing from another universe, a different dimension beyond our reach or understanding. Priests and preachers will call it the gift of the gods. But they're all senile fools — they're too scared of anything chaotic." Larissa smiled, as her horn was engulfed in conjured flames. "Thus they use magic in a way according to that. Everything must be built out of something — and magic provides us with materials and tools."

The air sparked with power as a shape of a big ancient castle appeared in the air.

"The mind of an architect is truly a mystery. How could such imagination feel free within such limitations...? Indeed, you can build anything, but if you build it wrongly, it'll crumble." A single movement of Larissa's horn and the castle disappeared into nothingness, leaving not even a single trace behind. "And nopony will remember it was there in the first place. This is how our world functions — diverse, yet orderly. Free, yet contained... Except, maybe, one thing."

As the magical fire burned brighter and brighter, a magical vortex started forming above them. Sombra looked up, wondering if she was conjuring some kind of spell or it was purely for show.

The vortex had dozens of bright dots floating inside it, sometimes turning dimmer and disappearing completely, or exploding in a flash of light.

“There’s a thing that stands out in this rather boring, orderly plain: It’s us.” Sombra felt Larissa’s hoof press on his chest. “All of us, ponies. Our souls disturb the natural order of things by merely existing.”

The vortex started spinning, mesmerizing Sombra by its complex beauty. Suddenly, huge bursts of black started sprawling from certain dots, staining the vortex with the dim dark colour.

“The easel is crafted. The canvas is ready. The only thing left is color. The most chaotic of an artist's tools, don't you think? The colors follow no rules — they mix, they spill, they flow, ever-changing. Our souls are the color, Sombra. From us, the Ink is born!” Larissa smiled, watching Sombra back away in slight shock at the sight of her display.

In but a flash, the vortex collapsed on itself, snapping, ripping itself inside and out. The magical fire trembled and swirled, as it descended down, flowing right back into Larissa’s horn.

“Unlike arcane energies, the Ink follows no rules. There are no spells, no blueprints. You're not building anything. You're painting the world around you. But you can't paint with dull colors, oh no! How do you paint white canvas with white colors? That is why kindness, courage or generosity will only serve to enhance the true components of the Ink - fear, dismay, hatred! The blacker the color, the more visible it'll be on a clean canvas.” Larissa looked back at Sombra, who was dumbstruck at the display he just witnessed. “The 'spells' you read about in that book — they are but a decoy to lure you into thinking that dark magic is just arcane magic painted black. A miserable lie! Dark magic has no spells, it follows no rules! It comes from us and it therefore is just as volatile, just as unique, and just as limitless in potential.”

“The stronger my feelings are… the more powerful I will be?” Sombra muttered, his mind still contemplating the newly discovered information.

“You are absolutely correct!” Larissa clapped her hooves in joy. “You learn so fast! Your teacher is proud of you!”

“The endless amount of potential that you can bend to your will — is that not the stuff of dreams?” Larissa looked at Sombra with a strange fire in her eyes. “Oh, when you finally realize this potential of yours, you’ll grow up so much, even in your own eyes.”

“I don’t that’ll be necessary… I’ve grown up enough, I think.” Sombra took a step back, creeped out by Larissa’s sudden shift of subjects, and found himself stepping into a small puddle of water. “What the—”

Before he could say anything else, Sombra sunk underneath the floor, as if the stone had suddenly turned into water. The cold liquid embraced him, wrapped him in its deathly grasp, flowing into his nose, ears and eyes. Confused and lost, Sombra started fighting, desperately waving his legs in order to swim upwards, but the blue abyss was sucking him in faster than he could swim.

“Death waits for the slightest lapse in concentration, my darling. You may encounter a drunk, who’s ready to split you open from neck to abdomen for a couple of coins.” Larissa looked down on him as he was sinking. “It may be a wild animal. Or you may just drown — like right now. Feeling grown up right now, eh?”

Sombra swam with all his might, cursing everything and its mother with the foulest of curses. What did just happen? Why was he drowning in solid objects?

Larissa’s entertained muzzle was enough of an explanation. Fueled with anger and fury, Sombra fought against the stream and pushed himself to the limit, yet to no avail. Soon, his vision became dark and muddy, while his slowing heartbeat was the only thing in his ears.

Death had its ghastly hooves wrapped around Sombra’s neck. How could it end like this? Dying a nopony, in some old library, taken by a spell of a mad whore. Maddened by such prospect, Sombra began to panic, his last wits escaping and letting loose the primal fear of death.

“Have you ever pulled a worm out of the ground? You look just like one!” Larissa continued to gloat, as her silhouette became blurred. Losing his strength in a desperate struggle, his lungs collapsing from the lack of oxygen, Sombra opened his mouth and breathed in.

The illusion vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared. Sombra’s eyes shot open and he found himself on the floor, lying in a rather uncomfortable position, his fur dripping with sweat.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? You look like you’ve seen a gho—” Larissa just barely opened her mouth to spew some more pretentious crap when Sombra rushed straight at her and pinned her against the bookshelf.

“You bitch! What did you do to me?!” Reason and logic were left behind in favour of pure rage. “What did you do?!”

“Oh, it was nothing. Just a little mind trick.” Despite being nailed against the bookshelf, Sombra’s hoof violently pressing on her throat, Larissa seemed as gleeful as ever. “You seemed a bit bored, and I thought you needed a demonstration.”

“Demonstration?! You almost killed me!” Sombra’s indignant shouts only provoked laughter from the Inquisitor.

“Oh my, such a big colt and yet he wets himself after a bad dream! Perhaps I ought to change your nappies; is that why you’re so grumpy?”

“I’ll gut you!” Sombra bellowed right at her. Larissa didn’t seem fazed in any way.

“Somehow, I doubt that will happen.” She smiled and suddenly disappeared, her body turning into black mist and evaporating. Sombra backed off, his heart starting to pound like a war drum.

“You didn’t think the illusion was over, right?” Larissa’s disembodied voice reached him. He looked around but saw nopony — it was as though she was speaking right in his head.

“What the fuck is going on? Where are you?!” he roared, his eyes darting from corner to corner in vain hope of spotting that slim figure.

“This is quite comedic, you know. I could kill you with ease, right here, right now. Me, a weak mare, handling a brute such as you — don’t you find it funny?”

“Why don’t you do it, then?!” Larissa turned silent for a moment, and the library went quiet, with only Sombra’s heavy breathing disrupting the silence.

The library suddenly started wavering, as if it were but a reflection in the water. The surroundings turned more and more bizarre before fading away completely. After a few moments of standing in complete void, Sombra opened his eyes.

Everything was back to normal, it seemed. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Except a very weak, distant sound. Sombra looked around, trying to find its source, but could see only shadows. Larissa was nowhere to be found.

“Hey! Larissa!” he shouted. There was no response — either he was still in the illusion, or… he was dead. “Hello?! Anypony here?!”

The sound got a little louder, and Sombra finally concluded it to be… crying. Was it a child? It definitely sounded like one. With his only alternative to wander into nowhere, Sombra followed the sound. The closer he got, the louder the crying became and soon it was clear that it was a child.

“This isn’t even remotely funny!” Sombra snarled, feeling more and more distressed. “This is not funny!” The sound led Sombra into a dead end.

A small filly, her appearance obstructed by darkness, was lying on the floor in the middle of the corridor, in the puddle of incredibly unnerving not-quite-liquid that reminded of tar in which bubbles occasionally popped. No, not bubbles. They were anguished faces. The filly herself occasionally trembled and shivered, as if crying.

The longer Sombra stared at her, the more the crying changed into screams of terror and anguish. The shrieking seeped into his brain, enveloping his nerves in pure pain. Sombra gritted his teeth, grabbing his head in feeble attempts to ease his pain.

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” he screamed, his head about to explode from the noise. It got more and more loud until Sombra could no longer hear his own thoughts.

Suddenly, it all stopped. The screams were silenced and Sombra collapsed on his knees, panting heavily. When he finally gathered enough strength and courage to look up, he saw Larissa, standing where the filly used to be. Her face was, for once, not distorted in a grin, but in concern.

“Oh, forgive me. I forgot you’re not familiar with my defenses.” She helped him to his hooves. “The Ink manifests in the most… unsettling of ways, depending on what you feed it with. Next time, just wait for me to come out."

“You… you’ve been inside my head, haven’t you?” Sombra spoke slowly, his mind still recovering after the trip.

“Inside your head? No, not at all. I only made you see what I wanted you to see.” Larissa smirked. “And before you try to lunge at me again, you weren’t in any real danger.”

“But… But I was…”

“Drowning? Indeed, you held your breath for quite a long time. But I was in total control. It’s not my first time, fucking with colts like yourself.” She didn’t even look mad, still making double entendres despite what Sombra said to her. “Now, I hope, you understand how crucial it is to utilize every power at your disposal? You’ll never know what will endanger you and those you love in the near future.”

“Yeah… I understand…” Sombra nodded. “About what I said… it’s…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! A lot of strange stuff comes out my mouth at the heat of the moment, too. Let’s pretend nothing happened, okay?” Larissa approached Sombra, looking straight into his eyes. “I will help you protect yourself from such assaults. I am not the only one capable of such things. So, my sweetheart, are you ready to embrace this power? Not just grace it with a look, but use it to its full extent?”

For some time, Sombra was just starring right back into her eyes. He didn’t know what he was expecting to find in them. He didn’t know what to expect at all anymore. What did she even hope to gain from this? The clearest and sincerest emotion he could see in her eyes was excitement, eagerness.

“I agree.” Sombra sighed, closing his eyes. Larissa was right about one thing — she really had him cornered. Whatever manifestation her dark powers took, it gave her a huge edge over him. And who knew what kind of hardships he would need to go through in his future life? Perhaps, many more of his comrades’ lives could be saved in the next winter when the white alpha would return.

“Wonderful! I knew you had it in you.” Larissa smiled, clapping her hooves together. “But we can handle it later. I just remembered I had plenty of errands to run today. You go on ahead and take the rest of the day off. See you in the evening.”

“Yeah. Sure. Evening.” Sombra murmured in response. So far, no book in this library caught his interest. Perhaps heading out and meeting with his friends would be the best option.

***

The candle flickered slightly when Sombra put the lamp on the cupboard. With a sigh of relief, he crashed into the bed, feeling the soft mattress greet him. It had been so long since he’d slept in a really comfortable bed — those constructs in the barracks hardly qualified.

That was about the only benefit of staying in this wretched place. Throughout the entire time he’d spent outside, Sombra could not drive away the thought of coming back here. Perhaps it was the fact that he’d have to share this bed with a madpony or that Crumbled Paper was sleeping just a few floors away from him, tired after slobbering all over his Lord’s ass.

Larissa still hadn’t returned from her ‘errands’. Today’s events were still fresh in Sombra’s memory and even the few cups of ale he’d shared with his friends didn’t drown them. She made him fear for his life, and did it so effortlessly.

The door suddenly creaked, disturbing Sombra’s concentration. He lazily tore his head away from the pillow to take a look and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Larissa standing in the doorway.

“Sorry I took so long,” she drawled, throwing back her hair that obstructed her vision. “Can’t do it faster when you’re dealing with this bad boy.” She swung her tail around before sitting down and hugging it.

Whatever errands Larissa had had to do, it involved a huge amount of bathing and hair brushing.

“What? Is something wrong with my hair? Oh, come on, don’t tell me I have split ends!” Larissa immediately started checking on her mane and, after a short period of ruffling herself, she turned her sight to Sombra. “Come on, sweetheart, don’t scare me like that.”

Smiling playfully, she walked up to the bed, next to Sombra, and put her hoof on his cheek. “You look stunned. Must have been a long time since you’ve seen a real mare.”

“I… Gah!” Sombra barely managed to snap out of the hypnosis and pushed her hoof away from his cheek. “I’ve seen mares aplenty, thank you very much.”

“Oh, so you’re experienced already.” She had a knack of turning things he said into something she could use. “I’m starting to like you even more.”

“Where did you even find the tools for… this?” Sombra asked, genuinely interested. Most mares in Granitza only had the option of splashing some water on themselves in old wooden tubs.

“Hehe. You see, tools of torture are not the only things I carry around in my baggage.” Larissa replied with a smile and suddenly yawned. “Oh, I’m beat.”

Sombra didn’t even notice how she slid to the other side of the bed and snuck under the blanket. For a moment, it seemed it wouldn’t go any further, but then he felt a gust of warm air on his ear.

“Tell me a secret, pumpkin: how many mares have you had before me?” she purred tenderly, her hoof wrapping around his neck.

“N-none. I have duties to attend… to.” Sombra gulped, gritting his teeth. Larissa’s hair gave away a sweet smell of honey. It seeped into his nose, shutting down his thoughts. A single breath and he had already forgotten what he wanted to say.

“Did I tell you that you’re a bad liar? If I did, excuse me for repeating myself.” Larissa inched a bit closer, leaning on him, her long mane falling on Sombra’s shoulders. “But that doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. Nothing matters. It’s only you, I, and the long night ahead of us.”

Sombra closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see that smile, but it didn’t help that much; he could still feel her puffy, soft mane and the warmth of her body. In desperate hope that, like a predator, she would lose interest if he showed no signs of life, he kept absolutely still. However, his eyes shot open when he felt Larissa pushed him down and straddled him.

Before he knew it, he was staring deep into her eyes, her mane flowing down on his chest, her tight black leather corset rubbing against him. Amazing — why was she still wearing it?

“You feel tense. Relax, pumpkin. The world is a terrible place, but it’s important to know when to let your guard down.” Her voice was sweet, mellow, welcoming. Sombra felt her tail wrap around his hind leg, tingling in the most sensual of places. He felt his mind being swiped of rebellious thoughts.

“I… I need to… I…” Sombra started to lose control over his instincts. At any minute, he could snap, but he no longer felt like it was a bad thing — in fact, quite the opposite. He wanted to lose control. He wanted to give in. He wrapped his hooves around Larissa, pulling her even closer.

“Good colt. Keep going.” To seal her victory, she locked lips with Sombra in a kiss, going in aggressively, preventing retreat.

Sombra’s mind went hazy and his sight was clouded. His head was empty of thoughts. Her smell, her touch — it was driving him nuts. He had to have her. He was obliged to.

The only thing he still felt was something rough and cold rubbing against his chest. The more active Larissa acted, the stronger it felt. Sombra felt his mind going back to him once he focused on this feeling.

It was his pendant, that little thing, a piece of his old life that he refused to take off. And now he was glad he did. Carefully, Sombra turned on his side, Larissa landing on the soft bed, and then tried to distance himself away from her, pushing her away.

“Huh? What’s the matter?” She opened her eyes, confused after having her prize taken from her.

“I just remembered! I didn’t check the perimeter!” Finally, in control of himself, Sombra wrestled his leg out of Larissa’s tail and sprung up from the bed. “I’ve got guard duty! Gotta go!”

“Oh, forget about it! Others can handle i—” She moaned with irritation, but Sombra interrupted her.

“No-no-no! I’ve got to make sure! Got to check! Later!” Without turning around, he rocketed out of the room away from Larissa. Only when he walked at least a few corridors and descended to the upper levels could he let out a sigh of relief.

Too close. That was way too close. For all the promises he made to himself, he’d succumbed to her charms rather easily.

With guilt eating away at him, Sombra looked at the small pendant. He had been wearing it for so long, he’d forgotten he even had it. Yet now, it’d saved him from becoming his own libido’s victim.

How could he let his guard down like that? Larissa didn’t need dark magic to control him, it seemed. While heading outside for a breath of cold fresh air, Sombra thought about the ways he could prevent this from happening again.

Learning to control himself would be a good start.

***

The door creaked softly when Sombra gently tried to push it open. The hinges were too rusted to be opened silently, so the only option left was to take it slow and pray that Larissa wouldn't wake up to the noise. If she was asleep at all, that was.

It had taken Sombra a while to get a hold of himself. He couldn't recall how long he’d just stood in one place and stared into the cloudy night sky. At first, he didn't want to return at all — he could ask for shelter in the nearby houses. Granitza's residents were always glad to help out a fellow soldier, since most families were somehow tied to the military, but leaving his post was not something Sombra would do. After all, it was his duty to protect the sex-crazed mare. He couldn't leave her unless she ordered it.

Treading carefully, Sombra peeked into the room. The dim light of the nightstand’s candle was still shining, but the candle itself was almost burnt down completely. Even a slight gust of random wind would blow it out.

Larissa had tucked herself away at the right hand side of the bed, her mane covering the entire pillow. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Sombra closed the door behind him and approached. He had to lie down with her again — not a thought he cherished too much.

Although, now, Larissa looked so much different — no grins, no insidious expressions. Instead, her mouth formed a light, content smile. At times, she would move, wrapping the blanket around herself, as if trying to protect herself from something, or protecting something with herself. There was something so enchanting in her peaceful, loving expression.

An angel asleep, a demon awake, Sombra thought to himself and found himself smiling. What was really running through the head of this weird crazy pony? A mystery he'd not soon uncover, if ever. He wasn't sure if he wanted to, really. The sooner this whole endeavor would end, the better. Erasing the smile from his face, Sombra quietly slipped underneath the blanket and made himself comfortable on the soft mattress.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered, mostly to nopony, a bit to himself and a tiny bit for Larissa, and then softly snuffed out the candle, plunging the room into complete darkness.

School in session

Sleep was merciful that day. Even though Sombra had not been as upset anymore once he returned to the bedroom in the cellar of the Mayor's house, there still had been a lingering feeling of dread that befell him each time he contemplated the possibility of what could await him. To say that this mare Larissa was a rapist and a psychopath would be like describing the winter in Granitza as 'sort of cold'.

He yawned widely. Sleep had not yet left his limbs and his mind was still hazy and so he reached to the side like he was used to from his time with Orthoclase's parents, wanting to fetch the glass of water he always placed on his nightstand back then. It was a motion of such routine that he did it without much conscious thought. It therefore came as a surprise when his hoof poked something soft rather harshly, and he heard a soft 'uff' from the side. Wait, what? Opening his eyes properly, he found himself facing Larissa, with his hoof in her hair, as he had touched her head with his sleepy motion. "Hmm, continue," she murmured in an almost drunken voice. "Only if you're gonna str-" A yawn. "-stroke me, though."

Every ounce of sleep that yet lingered in Sombra's limbs disappeared immediately, as he quickly retracted his hoof, cursing the old habits that were dying so hard. He hoped that this momentary slip-up would just slide, but Larissa dashed those hopes, rolling on her back and rubbing her eyes to drive away the morning blur. After clearing her vision, she turned her head to Sombra, with a weary smile and one eye still closed.

Sombra could only stare back like a dumb sack of potatoes, while the memories of the previous night promised him an impending punishment. Larissa's widening grin made him realize how foolish he must have looked, so Sombra decided to break the silence.

"Good morning... mam," his voice was a bit raspy and rough. He really needed that glass of water.

"N'aww, mornin', sweetie," she replied, her voice more ludic than before as she gave him a sleepy smile. With her movement came a strong scent of mare that Sombra would notice immediately, a mixture of natural musk and her usual hygiene products. She flexed her back a little, eliciting several audible popping noises. Her corset was still where it had been before - on her person. "You seem worried. Something wrong?" She didn’t sound angry. Or in any way mysterious, for that matter. It looked as though she hadn’t planned an execution for his denial last night. The day was starting great.

"I'm fine. Just need something to drink." Hoping for a quick escape, he slipped from under the blanket and stood up. His armor was nowhere to be seen, and he couldn't for Abyss' sake remember where he put it: the sight of Larissa now joyfully rolling around, the bed now being her own little kingdom, was far too distracting.

The blanket was really helpful to conceal her private parts from him in an enticing manner. She might be loose, but she wasn't unclassy about it, or so she would like to think of herself. "Out the door, down the hall," she told him, sounding slightly disappointed, probably because she noticed that he was not going to fall for her appeal even now. Another yawn escaped her throat.

"Thank you," Sombra replied coldly and walked out the door. Once outside, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief. A short rest from any kind of 'exciting' sights was in order.

The hallway echoed with his hoofsteps. The mansion's cellar reminded him less of an actual cellar, but of catacombs - long, dark, menacing. It felt as if he could stumble upon a forgotten skeleton at any moment, but there were only momentary whistles of wind and crackling of torches. Soon, he reached his destination - the first door down the hallway. He pushed the door open, and what he saw made his jaw drop.

There were rows of bags, gently put upon one another in neat rows, filled with different edible vegetables, as well as crates and barrels with the imperial marking stamped om top. He felt a slight sting of magical energy coming from it - the mark was surely charmed, probably to prolong the lifespan of the food stored within. Grinding his teeth in anger, Sombra walked by, looking around for an open barrel of water. So much food, and yet every season, Granitza experiences food shortages. This made the memory of punching Crumbled Paper right in the jaw that much sweeter.

Finally, he located a barrel with a tap: conveniently, there was a big wooden cup, placed right on top of the barrel. Pouring just a little bit more than he wanted, he drank it all in one big gulp. Refreshed at last, he headed back, having no other option on his mind. Hopefully, Larissa would be up for now and would give him some kind of a task.

During his absence, Larissa allowed herself a quiet sigh. Maybe she was getting old, it seemed, but usually any stallion was hers instantly as soon as she dropped the hammer on them like she had on Sombra. No, she thought to herself. There was probably something else, but not that it really mattered right now. Rising from the bed, she conjured a set of clothes from the closet to float by her side as she left the room, wanting to head out and pour herself a bath. Like hell she was going to begin her day without some basic hygiene.

With her horn, she snuffed out the few candles that had illuminated the room and left, heading towards the bathroom. "Sombra, come here!" she called out as she went past where he was taking his drink. "I need a bath."

"Great." Sombra murmured in frustration. First, she wanted to make him her toy. Now, she needed a slave.

Not only that, but he didn't have any idea where he'd find her an actual bathtub. Shutting the door behind him, he quickly spotted Larissa walking down the hall. There was quite a bit of distance so he had to yell: "That's a two or three hour walk, at the very least. I could commission some buckets instead." The only thing close to a bathtub he knew was a small river deep in the woods. He and his comrades would oft come there after a long day of duties to take a dip and relax. Young lovers would sometimes arrange their meetings there, as well - it was a lovely sight in summer.

At those words, Larissa would turn around and shoot him a disbelieving look. "What? You want to tell me this place has no bathtub?" she asked in a disbelieving voice.

Sombra nodded solemnly. "We're not in the capital anymore," the phrase came off a bit too smartass-y, but he couldn't help it. When playing with fire, one had to be bold.

"Oh, you don't say?" Her voice mirrored his sarcasm in kind, though a bit more obscured. "Well, unless you have a better idea, then, you'll clean me manually." She made a move to return to him down the hallway, stroking a strand of her purple mane out of her hair. "And you'll get someone to build a tub afterwards." There should be enough spare wood around, she figured.

Sombra stood dumbstruck for a few moments, the mixed feelings of anger and dread welling up inside. Above all else, he hated being looked down upon. The problem was that, should he rebel, a sad and tragic end he would meet at the hooves of this wretched mare. She had already shown she could kill him slowly and painfully, back in the library. Still, he could not just let it slide.

"With all due respect... I'm a soldier, not a woodworker." That was way too bold. He had to soften the blow. "I could have Crumbled Paper provide you with an assistant. I'm sure he has hooves to spare."

He hadn't noticed any servants other than guards in the mansion yesterday, but there were bound to be some. Who was keeping this building in such state, otherwise?

"Yes," she said giving him a flat look. "You are quite the handsome soldier, too." With a sigh, she looked up for a moment. "Though really, this depends on what you want to be doing here. Do you actually think I need a soldier to guard me?" Returning her eyes to his, it was evident that the answer was no. "So really, I'm doing you a favour. You can either go out there and freeze your shapely flank off building my tub or you can touch yourself some good ol' maremeat right here." The clothes that Larissa had taken were still hovering by her head. Her Inquisitor's robes that she wore above the corset. "So, you sure there isn't something else that is tub-like?"

A coffin, how's that for a tub, Sombra really wanted to say that outloud, but he held back... barely.

"I'll... look around." Crumbled Paper just had to have a bath installed here, he figured. No way somepony like him would last a few days without the comforting feel of squeaky cleanliness.

"Wonderful," she cooed, before making a move to return to the bedroom, wanting to lie down on the bed for as long as he moved. There were a few things to do for her later, though all in all, it wasn't too much. That was really the nice thing about having subordinates, she felt. The clothes hovered above her while she waited for him to find somewhere to soak. Had she felt like it, she could just fashion herself a simple bath out of a log with a few flicks of her horn, but where was the fun in that?

The search didn't take too long. As it turned out, the bathroom was also down in the cellar, hidden in a separate section of the cellar. At this point, it was obvious that the mansion's catacombs stretched much further than the building itself. There were two rooms - one with the round, wooden tub, big enough to fit at least six ponies, and the other one was the sauna, fashioned out of stones that would heat up and provide warmth and steam. The sauna looked rather poor, so Sombra figured it wasn't used very often. Most likely because there was no output for the fireplace that provided heat for it.

Figuring ahead of time that he would have to do all the work, Sombra had to run back and forth between the storage and the bathtub to grab enough barrels of water to fill it up. Heating up the water was not a big issue - with a minor magical manipulation, he charmed the water to heat up slowly, then dispelled it once he thought it was hot enough. The whole process was tiresome, and by the time he was done, streaks of sweat were running down his muzzle.

Larissa didn’t interrupt his activity right until the end, when she appeared in the doorway, eyeing the environment and the ongoing action with interest. "And here I thought I'd need to be greasy today," she said once he got into view, though she had let the clopping of her hooves announce her presence so he wouldn't be surprised. "Could also use one," she added once she approached a bit more and took a good look at him. Leaning forward, she smelled his body scent. "I like the smell of a strong body's work." She looked up at him before taking a step past him into the room, her clothes by her side.

"Enjoy." Sombra said, taking a step back from her. He turned to the exit, hoping to get something to eat as well while she was bathing.

"Nonono," she said, putting her clothes down on a nearby bench before turning to him, standing beside the tub. Sombra might wonder why she was still wearing the corset. Was she gonna bathe with it? "You will bathe me, dear."

"Can't you handle that yourself? I've got you a bathtub, what more do you want?" Sombra replied, his voice slipping tones of anger.

"For you to relax. It's getting me all worked up," she replied in a calm tone that went contrary to what she said. She took a towel from a nearby pile of them, since this room apparently had no shelves, she noted, and held it between herself and Sombra so she could get rid of the corset and climb into the tub. "Come," she said, putting the towel to the side and sinking into the water properly. "Oh, and would you fetch my bath lotion, oil and brush from our room? Should be somewhere by the door. Didn't get much of a chance to tidy up yet."

Sombra took a deep breath and walked back into their room. This mare was a whole clusterfuck of weird. The very first night they settled in, she was practically begging for a rut, and now she felt it was too improper to undress in front of him? What was so important that she was hiding under that corset? Her irrational behavior was annoying him to no end.

After a brief search through her stuff, he found a hefty bag full of differently colored bottles and flasks. She didn't strike him as an alchemist, so he assumed this was what she wanted. Desperate to get this bathing thing over with, he carried the bag back into the bathing area.

"There it is." He said, carefully putting the bag on the floor.

She had her hooves folded in front of her. "Should be it," she said dismissively, pouring a generous amount of different bottles and flasks into the tub using her horn. The mixture of it caused a sweet scent to fill the room that was almost intoxicating. "My hair," she told him once the tub was full of bubbles and foam. "Gently, please."

"Urgh." For a brief moment an idea of drowning her in this very tub came to his mind, but once he remembered how easily she climbed into his head, he drove it away and begrudgingly began his work. Having to deal with his own mane all the time, he was pretty well-versed in hair washing, but his black bundle of rough joy couldn't even compare to the soft, silky heaven Larissa was sporting. There was something mesmerizing about it... it felt almost like...

Sombra instantly suppressed any further thoughts regarding this feeling and pulled back his hooves, to apply the lotion. This was waking too many memories. Bad memories.

"Do you have all of your bodyguards wash your hair, or am I getting the special treatment?" The unwanted trip to the past put him in the most foulest of moods. He didn't even try to sound engaged this time.

"If I have them," she gave back vaguely. Very soon, her mane was glistening with the lotion, the appropriate smell of flowers filling the air. Sombra moved on to brushing, but his movements were rough and Larissa couldn’t help but let out a light ‘ouch’ each time he touched a sensitive spot. "You seem tense, Sombra," she continued, actually using his name this time. "What’s wrong, pumpkin? Never brushed a mare’s mane before?”

"Not exactly my line of work." He grumbled in reply, while applying another dose of lotion.

"I know, I know, but even such a mare magnet such as yourself needs a little education in femininity." She leaned back, smiling at him. Sombra’s anger was amusing her.

He didn't reply. Rage was clouding his mind, preventing him from retorting with anything than a straight up insult. He was just about to be done with her hair - all that he needed now was apply some soap and wash it all away. He looked around, trying to remember where the damn thing was.

Finally spotting it in Larissa's bag near the wall, he was about to go and get it, but on his way didn't bother to look down and notice a small puddle. One uncareful step and the slip sent him reeling into the barrier of the tub, as he tumbled over it right into the water.

Emerging immediately, he spat and cursed loudly, as soapy water got right in his eyes and throat, making his swears sound more like the gurgling language of elder beings.

Larissa giggled. Although she really wanted to taste his sweat, the acrobatics he displayed were worth the loss. "Careful. One more trick like that, and I might think you’re a performer of sorts. Then I’d have you dance for me." At least the tub wasn't damaged.

"This isn’t funny!" His frustration with her cool demeanor was worsened by the fact that he could barely see past the blur in his eyes, and to all injury to the insult, it was burning like fire. He was blinking furiously, trying to drive it away, but nothing seemed to work. "Augh, shit... Damn it..."

She relieved him of the burn in his eyes with a flick of her horn. "You think so? I thought it was sort of funny. Are you out to entertain me?" Her eyes briefly lingered on the pendant that he was still wearing, though she didn't ask about it and shrugged it off.

That question. That one single innocent question was the last drop. She was toying with him, she enjoyed this little game of cat and mouse, knowing she was more powerful, that she could do all this with no repercussion. It was driving him mad.

"I have had enough!" He bellowed, lunging at her and pinning her to the side of the tub. "I don't care if you're an Inquisitor, or the fucking Head of Inquisition, I won't let you treat me like trash!"

His eyes, still red from the soap, were burning with anger, and in the air, Larissa felt what she had longed for ever since she first saw the first signs of Sombra's mutation. The sweet, heavenly dark power, boiling within him, like a hateful ocean hungry for devastation. Her senses, attuned to such tunes, sung to her - she was right. Right all the way. The stallion was special.

"Hurt me," she whispered to him, teasingly, wanting to test his metal. "Break my bones, smash my limbs, crush my skull. I won't even fight back, dear." With her head, she leaned forward and licked his cheek. "You taste delicious~" she cooed while she was almost drowned by Sombra at the edge of the tub, a lot of it having spilt out already. "I'd love to taste your..." A hoof touched his thigh.

Sombra's heart was beating like a drum, pumping more and more adrenaline into his system. Baring his teeth, he put his hoof right on her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her back off. He didn’t know how to proceed, but he was not going to stop. In a few minutes, this water would turn red with her blood.

All his thoughts suddenly disappeared when he heard a voice from behind the door.

"A leak? Oh, goodness gracious!" The voice belonged to a mare, certainly, but Sombra didn’t recognize it. Before he could think or do anything, the door was open, the elderly mare’s face appearing in the doorway.

"What is going o..." she went silent when he noticed the ongoing scene. At first, Sombra thought that he was a goner, but then he realized, judging by mare’s flustered expression and fast worried breathing, that she mistook Sombra's fit of rage for... something else entirely.

"Knock, please? Can’t you see we’re busy?” Larissa looked at the elderly mare with a coy smile. “Now fly away, I’m busy with my stallion.”

"I-I-I... Excuse meeee-" The maid screeched and slammed the door behind him. The loud sound of hoofsteps signified that she retreated quite in a hurry.

Sombra backed off immediately, as if doused in cold water. Well, he was right about one thing – Crumbled Paper indeed had maids here. Another thing he was sure of – he was now dead. The anger that accumulated throughout this morning disappeared in a flash, replaced with despairing void. He was sitting in the water, motionless and completely clueless, unsure of what to say or do. It seemed to him he was finally done for.

"Damn, she ruined the best part" Larissa murmured to herself, sitting up more straight in the tub and looking at Sombra. "And here I thought I’d see how angry you can get." With those words said, she unceremoneously dabbed her head into the water and shook it underwater to get rid of the shampoo that Sombra had put in there but never managed to finish rinsing because he fell in the tub. Once done, she withdrew her head, using her horn to free her sight of the water. Her wet mane looked even more luscious than dry.

"So... You're not going to kill me for this?" He was still in a bit of a shock about this entire situation. Only a couple of moments later, it finally struck him. Her powers, the tricks she used - she was never in any danger at all, was she?

"Oh, pumpkin, I’ve had stallions treat me way rougher than this." Larissa asked sweetly, tittering at the idea. "But I’m sure you will catch, and even overtake them, in time." She came a bit closer, though kept a bit of distance this time. "Do you remember what I’ve told you about the Ink?"

"Y-yes… It’s the dark energy, created by our own souls through… negative emotions?" He remembered the library.

"Correct. I’ve just wanted to see what emotion would generate the most energy inside your muscular body?” She relaxed in the tub, all of her lower and most of the upper body hidden behind the muddy, soapy water. “A body I’m hoping to examine closely. Much closely.”

"Yeah... I figured that one out." He murmured in reply. He acted rashly, without thinking, but Larissa was merciful enough to spare him from the consequences. Not only that, but she was actually expecting him to lose his cool. The lack of control weighed upon him, as too heavy an armor. It was infuriating.

"May I have a moment to myself? I need to pull myself together," Sombra asked. He had a lot to think about. A lot to consider. But deep inside, he felt that this madness would end in his favor, if he'd just observe and learn.

The plans were changing. Sure, his pride would take a hit, but it was bearable. The new plan was to watch and learn. And also shoot down any seduction attempts. That part was out of the question.

She wasn't too fond of him excusing herself. Firstly she wasn't yet cleaned properly, and secondly, there was a burning in her nether region that his rough treatment earlier definitely didn't fix. Still, she figured she would feel his hard, throbbing meat spilling his hot-

Larissa blinked, noticing that she had been staring blankly. "Uh, sure, go ahead," she said, a bit distracted by her unruly thoughts, but he wouldn't ask anyways. At least the hot water of the tub was concealing the redness of her face and her breathing was easily explained by the adrenaline of the moment.

The rest of the day passed without much weird occurrences. It would suffice to say that it was boring. Larissa spent a good chunk of her time investigating papers and documents, talking with Crumbled Paper and Lord Radiant. Throughout this time, Sombra was relieved of his duties and used this spare moment to check up on his comrades. Before letting him go, however, Larissa notified him, that he was to be back before the sunset, and come straight to the library.

He found her deep within the storage of knowledge, lying right on the table, too consumed by the book she was reading to notice him immediately.

Sombra coughed softly to notify Larissa of his presence without breaking her concentration too much.

Her reaction was rather stark. Upstarting, she dropped the book, its back hitting the ground with a loud thud. "Gah!" Her eyes landed on Sombra and she calmed down while her horn picked up the book again. "For a stallion your size, you're quite sneaky."

"Thank you." He took it as a compliment, though one could never know with this mare. He flipped over one of the books, scattered on the table and glanced at the title - 'Legends and fairytales'. "You're interested in Granitza's folklore?"

She closed the book with a snap and put it to the side. "A bit. I find it tells a lot about the culture." Still, Larissa remained on the table. "Can you guess why you're here?"

"You want me to read to you?" Nev would commend his wittiness if he had heard that.

"Well, not quite," she said, though this gave her an idea. "You can do it afterwards, though. Read me a bedtime story." With her horn, she ignited the candles that were fixed to the shelves around the room, illuminating the wooden bookshelves that looked quite old in the flickering light. It was still rather dark, yet this hid some of the dust. "But first, I wanted to have you practice some magic with me."

"I understand... What do you want me to do?" It's been so long since he casted something complex. Simple charms, telekinesis - those were everyday things, but it was doubtful Larissa would be satisfied with anything simple.

"You know, the nice thing about the Ink is that it is only limited by your imagination," she told him, beckoning him over so she could look into his eyes, those wonderfully warped eyes. "Do you reckon you can get in the mood for it, though?"

"You mean... get mad?" He remembered what she wanted from him in the bathtub.

"I could help you if you want." She gave him a toothy grin.

"No. I think I can manage." He replied and turned away, deep in thoughts on how he could anger himself. He could bite his own tongue or something - pain always provoked rage. But he couldn't know how much pain would be enough, and he wasn't up for torturing himself to death. Instead, he opted to seek rage within his memories.

He remembered how condescending Crumbled Paper was. Concentrating, he recalled every moment of his encounter with him. It made him a little pissed, but nothing more.

"You're hot when you have that look on your face," she cooed quietly, as there was little need to talk loudly. There was probably something she could do to infuriate him, but instead she waited. "There has to be something that can reliably infuriate you. A preference for a negative emotion is nothing unusual, it’s something every dark mage develops, and yours is clearly anger." She turned on her back on the table, looking at him upside down, her hair flowing down the side of the table like a silky curtain. She wrapped her robe around herself a little with her horn.

Sombra dug deeper. There had to be something, something that would be painful enough. He remembered his training, everything that went down, but nothing. Then, he remembered the chilling cold, the howling wind, the crushing feeling of loneliness when he was wandering the woods, after he ran away from Crystal City.

The air suddenly became heavier. Breathing became a pain - it was as if sharp sand was rolling down your throat, cutting and tearing the flesh.

It was crude, Larissa felt. It was to be expected, given that he was so untrained. Come to think of it, she didn't even know if he could read. "If you get there," she began, slowly, gently, not wanting to break his focus too much, "make sure it’s obedient. Control the emotion – don’t let the emotion control you." There was a glinting of her horn and the air flimmered in a circle around them as Larissa shielded the shelves around them, locking the two of them inside the little bubble.

"Yes... Yes, I got it..." The memory was unpleasant, not so much because of its contents, but because it was linked, directly to those memories he'd rather remain buried. Cutting his memory trip short, he tapped into the energy, dwelling within him. He did it before, so long ago - and it, too, caused pain.

The tip of his own horn let out a small zap, before the dark energies started to manifest into a small flame. It fluttered and shook, even though there was no wind. Quite a basic construct, but a construct nonetheless.

"Hmm," she hummed quietly, closing her eyes where she lay lazily on the table. "You’re doing good. Now fuel it. Let’s see how big it can get.”

"I…I’m trying!" Sombra growled in reply. The energy wasn't content on being manifested into something as innocent as a small orb - it thirsted, it wanted. It almost felt... alive.

The fire started to crackle and shift and then began to coil, increasing in size before it collided with the barrier Larissa put forth. Sombra tried his best to snuff it out, but it just kept growing stronger.

Contrary to Sombra, Larissa had no interest in extinguishing it. This wasn't normal fire, she felt, as its mere presence made her fur stand on end and a shiver run down her spine. This was way more visceral, way more hungry. "Steady," she told him, a bit louder as the fire was disrupting the silence. It could possibly even hurt Sombra, though she didn't want to stop him. There had to be a limit to how far he could go. She needed to know where it was.

The torrent of flames roared and twisted, trying to pierce the protective bubble. Sombra fell to his knees, as the dark flames began creeping down his face, glowing with menacing colours, and small wisps of purple energy emanated from his eyes, crackling and shaking in tune with the flames.

"Gah...agh..." His mind was swarming with memories. How he was slowly slugging through the deep, dark woods, how he ran through muddy streets, choking on his own streets. He tried to block it off, he wanted to forget it all, but it wouldn't disappear. It kept going. From the streets - into a lonely park, covered in snow. There were no trees, except a lonely birch, standing over a lonely grave.

"NO!" Sombra bellowed, and the black inferno retreated back to him, hiding him in a whirlpool of ghastly energy. Sombra's voice started to change, into booming, resonating growl. The dark energies, too weak to do any real damage, began to scratch and rip pieces of stone from the floor, lifting them into the air and crushing them into rubble.

She raised an eyebrow as it seemed like he was holding the energy back. Why'd he do that? Nevertheless, it looked like he was losing control. "I think that's quite enough," she told him in an imperative voice and a flick of her horn caused a horrible feeling to reach his forehead, as though something was being sucked out of his forehead. A strand of swirling, black energy floated towards Larissa's horn to coalesce around it before she withdrew a small, red crystal out of her cloak and tapped her horn against it, the energy seeping in to it, causing it to glow faintly. The energy refused, it fought back, even causing her pain, but Larissa safely sucked it inside the crystal, trapping it within. Once that was done, Sombra would feel drained beyond belief, both magically and physically, and even Larissa was breathing heavily. "That's..." she started, breathing in deeply. "-enough."

The maelstrom started to lose power and eventually died down, revealing Sombra on his knees. The magical fire that caught his fur and mane disappeared without a trace, and after all signs of the dark power ever emerging disappeared, he collapsed, plunging into a dream immediately. The only evidence of his outburst was the spiral shaped destruction left on the floor by the maelstrom.

Larissa remained like this for a while, trying to regain her composure. Damn, this had actually beed difficult. He forced her to drain his energy. It was something that she could usually perform with ease, as most unicorns she needed to drain were far weaker than herself, thus making their excess energy… manageable. Needless to say, she hadn't expected Sombra to be this tedious to empty. "And I just showered," she muttered to herself as she felt somewhat hot, doubtlessly sweating at least somewhat. "Alright, big boy." She slowly rose from the table and its legs broke from the bit of movement, making her eep as she fell and land on her belly. Good thing he hadn't seen that. Sighing, she got up again and took a look at the libary briefly. She could tend to this the next day. With her horn, she picked up Sombra and put him across her back, which was easier than hoisting him with magic right now, and shuffled out of the room, just wanting to drop him in bed.

The Wolf

The wind, whistling through the thick foliage, brought the warm breath of the south. Sombra was grateful that Larissa chose this day to go on an expedition into the forest.

The last few days were pretty uneventful. After his complete recovery from their 'lesson', Larissa assigned him some minor duties, like cleaning her clothes or fetching ink once she ran out. If she needed to meet up with somepony, she'd let him go, otherwise he was always near her. Of course, each night, she'd attempt to woe him once more, and it was getting increasingly difficult to turn her down. Before, he could shoot down any naughty thoughts with the anger he felt at her, but as he got used to his new chores and position, she stopped being the oppressor and felt like a really sweet piece of meat he'd love to dig his teeth into, metaphorically, of course. The only way he could persuade himself to not fall for her allure was his pendant, which unearthed memories that burned away any desire.

The library became their classroom. If Larissa wasn't busy reading another book, she'd tell him about different dark mages, the legends the commonwealth created about them, and which one of them were true. She did have him try to conjure more dark magic, but she always put some limit from now on - the tasks varied each time, but they were always relatively innocent. Sombra guessed that she was just not too happy about fixing the floor after his outburst.

However, the library was also, relatively, the reason for their current expedition. Larissa dug up an old tome, written in old crystallian, and decided to decipher it. After some sleepless nights, she discovered that it portrayed the beliefs of ponies of these lands, long before the Empire was ever created. Inspired by this finding, she decided to investigate one particular thing that caught her eye.

"Remind me, why are we out here, again?" Sombra asked, swiping at the air to drive away the insects flying at him.

The mare by his side turned her head slightly, her eyes looking into his from underneath the hood of her cloak. It was a running theme with Larissa that she was always dressed in a way that looked stylish without being overbearing or gaudy. It was almost unreal. "An obsession of mine," she answered, not minding the little creatures swirling around her. Then again, she had cast a protective charm that for some reason made her invisible to these pests. Given the relative warmth, it might seem strange that she was wearing a hood, but she had said that the wind would just ruin her hair. "We're on an adventure, boy. Don't you ruin it with your questions." They had started walking into the forest quite a while ago with apparently no rhyme or reason to where they were actually going.

"I don't think it would ruin your fun if you'd tell me our destination." Sombra replied, flexing his neck, feeling slightly tired. After all, he got to carry all the heavy bags. "These lands aren't friendly to outsiders. One needs to avoid travels, if possible."

"I would tell you where we're going. I really would," she told him in an apologetic way that was almost believable. "I just don't really know where exactly we are going either." It really seemed like she was going by simple whim, as there was no map, no compass, no nothing in play here. "If you're asking what we're looking for, though, it's some sort of derelict building."

Sombra couldn't help but snicker. "Alright, then. The derelict it is."

When the sun was in high zenith, Larissa decided it would be ample time for a break. They settled under the nearest tree, unpacked the bags and grabbed something to eat, while they were at it.

"Good thing summer is on its way." Sombra murmured, taking a bite out of a small slice of bread. "Otherwise, there'd be no shortage of wolves."

"But then you wouldn't need to haul water with you," she reminded him. Snow would be pretty easy to melt on a campfire. She herself was eating a loaf of bread with a side of cheese, since apparently she could resist having it a little bit better and more expensive than Sombra either way. "Then again, your abs have developed nicely." Her eyes leered at his crotch.

"So, you're not worried about the wolves?" Sombra raised an eyebrow. He got used to her ogling him. As long as he wasn't ogling her, everything was under control.

"Sweetie," she began, giving him an actual flat look that was directed at his eyes. "I am the wolf." She opened her mouth wider than was reasonably to be expected of a mare her size and bit off a sizable chunk of bread.

"I wish I could have your confidence at the start of the next winter, when the White Alpha returns." Sombra replied, finishing the rest of his meal.

"Maybe you will," she told him nonchalantly, packing the rest of the bread again to put it back in their bags, which only Sombra was carrying. The cheese, she kept floating by her side. "You know, you would really need unicorns in that village." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Wouldn't the Inquisition want you back?" He began packing the bags, the break was coming to an end. A long trek ahead awaited them.

She hummed indecisively at that. "Sure they would." And that was it. She didn't intend to continue that line of conversation. Getting to her hooves, she made the thicket rustle with her movement. Even now, the insects were avoiding her. "Let's move." There suddenly was a need to move for her, and she made her impatience known by the way she shifted her weight around.

"Very well." Sombra replied, following Larissa's lead. As they kept going, a sense of unease crawled into his psyche. The seemingly endless labyrinth of massive trees, intertwining roots and leaves that shadowed the very sky scared many of the locals from going too deep into the thicket of woods. Who knew what was hiding there, away from the main roads, among the trees more ancient than the Empire itself?

Perhaps, he was thinking too much into it. After all, Granitza stood here for Emperor knows how long, and so far nothing daemonic had came out of the woods, except the White Alpha. This was just like any forest in Crystal Empire - a landscape full of resources and potential hiding spots. Still, he couldn't help but wonder how many generations had these trees withstood - the deeper they went, the bigger and stronger they seemed.

"You know," Larissa broke the silence after a while during which there was nothing heard besides their own steps and the rustling of leaves. Even the animals seemed to avoid this place, it seemed, or at least they were more versed in the art of hiding. Well, except the insects that had managed to irritate Sombra's hide quite a lot at this point. "It's moments like this where I wish there'd be brigands or whatever lying in wait. Anything but this silence." It was a hidden criticism levelled at Sombra's silence. Then again, she couldn't really blame him. It was in that moment that her hoof hit something that gave a dull thud compared to the rustling of dirt beneath her hooves. "Oh?" Kneeling down, she inspected what looked like cobblestone.

"Huh." Sombra raised an eyebrow and kneeled before the stone, eyeing it thoroughly. "Weird. This doesn't seem like a natural stone."

"Because it isn't. Look here," she told him, looking up and pointing at its shape. "Way too angular. It's almost a perfect cube. Someone worked on that." There had to be more nearby. That or someone just dropped this here somewhere. "Look around and see if you can find something. This was maybe a road."

"Roads? Here? I don't think so." To imagine that there was once a trace of civilization amidst these green depths was a preposterous idea. Nevertheless, their finding remained a fact, and Sombra started looking at the ground more thoroughly, in case there was anything else of interest. However, it was something else that caught his attention.

"Do you see this?" He pointed at pieces of rough fur stuck to the bark of a large tree. Wolves. They oft used the bark to scratch any itches they couldn't reach by themselves. "We're in the wolves' territory now... I don't like this."

"It's not night yet," she called over to him and approached, lowering her head to take a closer look at the fur herself. Still, they wouldn't be getting back before nightfall either. Closing her eyes, a shimmer emerged from her horn but there seemed to be nothing that was influenced by her magic. The rock. There needed to be some sort of object it had belonged to. Of course! "We need to start digging," she stated.

"Not sure if that'll be of any use." Sombra looked around for any possible clues on where to go next. "This ground is chockfull of roots. Even if we find anything, it'll be after long hours of hacking at roots."

He took a few steps away from the stone and peered into the shades in the distance. "We're better off heading back. We're way too deep, this won't end well."

He expected a reply, a snicker or maybe a grope, but none followed. He turned around and realized that he was standing all alone and, what was even more implausible - in a completely different location. At least he thought so, the environment all looked the same.

A little more than a moment was all it took. Larissa had taken a few steps away from him, so why couldn't he see her anymore? Or hear. A gust of wind went through the thicket and made it rustle, and even his calling wouldn't get her to come out again. The wind intensified, making it increasingly difficult to hear anything that was going on. Even the insects had disappeared.

Whenever he looked, there were only shadows. He couldn't even return home now, he was completely clueless about his location. It invoked unpleasant memories.

"It's alright. She's probably hiding somewhere, ready to jump at me at any moment." Sombra murmured to himself outloud, trying to calm down his pounding heart. It felt as if there was something more sinister than wolves here now. Nevertheless, he had to move - stillness is death, in many situation. He picked a random direction and began his march.

Deciding where to go was surprisingly easy, given that all options seemed equally unappealing. Every now and then, the trees admitted a bit of light to pour down on him. It was late now, the light turning orange. It drew dancing shades upon the trees with the wind making the leaves shake and the brushes shiver.

Sombra figured that he could use some simple spells to figure out his location. Perhaps, fire a small spark into the air to alert Larissa, or anypony, of his whereabouts. He aimed his horn into the sky, concentrated just enough at the very tip and released the gathered energy.

The ball of energy dissipated without having flown even two meters. Sombra tried again and again, to the same effect. His blood felt cold inside the veins - magic wasn't working here.

A bird's cry resounded through the air just as he made that realization. The very forest was mocking him, taunting while making its roots rise, it almost seemed to make him trip, the thickets thorny to gouge his sides and the stones unsteady, each one of them bearing the risk of slipping and potentially breaking his neck. What was wrong with this place? Had it seemed this menacing the entire time or was it just Larissa's company that had made it seem so banal, almost innocent the entire time?

There was no way other than forward. Sombra took a deep breath and steadied his movements: this wasn't the time for panic. He was a soldier, he should be above fear. And yet, this place chilled him to the bones.

After, what seemed like an eternity, he saw an opening, a glimpse of a field among this monstrous labyrinth. Sombra rushed, ignoring the thorns and roots, falling and getting up a few dozen times, low-hanging branches scratching his skin. He saw an opening that might lead to a way out, and he went straight for it.

He found himself in the middle of a small field, a place relatively free from the gnawing feeling of dread and despair. Only shortly after he realized that he wasn't out of the fire - he was right in its centre.

The trees seemed to yield where he stood, preferring to stand back and bow their crowns as if there had been drawn a line that they couldn't cross. Only tall grass grew here, almost as high as Sombra stood, making his head stick out only a little bit above it. There was something ahead, he could see: A tree, old, tall and boney with not a single leave in its crown.

"We're here," came a voice from behind him and Larissa emerged silently from behind a swath of grass. She was smaller than Sombra and therefore could hide completely in the grass. "Can you feel it?" she asked him, nodding towards the tree. "This soil is stained with magic… Powerful magic, beyond our generation. This was once a place of..."

"Of what?!" Sombra peered into the thick grass, trying to note flashes of Larissa's dark cloak.

"Of worship," Larissa replied quietly, keeping her eyes forward. "I’ve thought it all a myth. Only found in the legends and fairytales. Long before the unicorns of the lands that would become Crystal Empire knew about arcana, they worshipped things way beyond their understanding… or our understanding, for that matter. Shamanism." She started moving through the grass towards the centre of the grove. "Follow me in my steps. One wrong move, and it will tear you to shreds." Her horn was glowing constantly, although there was again nothing that he could see her influence directly with magic. The closer they got, the heavier the air seemed to become, the very breath they took becoming more difficult by the moment. Leaving behind another swath of grass revealed that which lie at the centre: A withered altar hewn out of the bony roots of the tree. Its edges were shaped with fine precision to resemble the shape of a wolf's head and the bark of the dead tree that rose above it bore eldritch symbols and pictograms of figures, mostly ponies it seemed from the way some had crude wings and others were surrounded by a halo of what appeared to be protective magic. They were surrounding the figure of an enormous wolf that appeared ready to pounce.

"By the Emperor..." Sombra uttered, never having seen or felt anything like this before. He heard of many religions, but none of them ever worshipped a monstrosity such as this.

"Interesting," she muttered, holding out a hoof to stop him from progressing further. In front of them appeared to be something that almost looked like a perfect circle around the shrine that was not overgrown by grass or any other vegetation in any way. It was just... barren. "Can you feel something ahead?" she whispered to him, motioning to the barren land with her head.

"Yes... I feel a presence... A powerful presence." He felt as if the presence was familiar, like he encountered it before.

She noddded in reply. "Not only that, though." Using her magic to plug some of the grass from their vicinity, she motioned for him to watch closely. "If I'm right, then..." Throwing it over the edge, it shrivelled up and withered right before their eyes as if it was decomposing right before their eyes until only dead earth remained.

Sombra staggered back, shocked at the sight. It was powerful magic, no doubt, but for it to be here, in the wild, on its own? This place looked ancient, over hundreds of years old, there was no way a spell or a charm could last this long. Either this was an anomaly, or the caster was the best damn sorcerer in the history of the world.

"Shh!" Larissa intoned sharply and her magic aura enveloped Sombra, keeping him in place. "How bizzare..." She slowly released him once she could be completely sure that Sombra would not move away suddenly again. By now, the daylight was almost gone.

"What?" He exclaimed, turning to Larissa. "Can you finally explain what this place and what the Abyss we're doing here?"

"I read about this, Sombra," she replied, letting her eyes roam across the ground, the shrine, the grass. Anything that might help her make heads and tails of this mess. "The shamans, that lived here a long time ago, have built this place to honor their god. They are long since gone, but whatever they worshipped…" She lowered her head and touched her horn to the ground for a moment. "It might be a spirit, or a ghost. It still lingers here. I’ve always thought the stories of shamans spoke of weak-minded, gullible fools, a parody of spellcasters, but this ..." she exhaled deeply. "This is proof. They drew their power from here. We need to destroy this shrine, now."

"Destroy?" Sombra looked at the nightmarish construct of wood once more. "Whatever helps to keep Granitza safe, I'm in. We're going to need a torch."

"No wood," she began, sounding a little distant as the shine of her horn continued. "No oil, no simple spell will undo this. We’ll need to." Her horn shone yet brighter, and Sombra could hear a faint, suffering sigh from her throat. "Sombra," she wheezed. "Help me." There was a hoof, offered to him.

Sombra grabbed her hoof and pulled her towards him. "Damn it! What do I do? How... how do I help you?"

"You're strong," she replied in the same tone as though she was suffering a heavy migraine. As Sombra watched, he could see that there were black lines scrawling from her horn over her forehead as though the blood inside her veins was turning to ice. Whatever was inside this shrine, it didn’t take kindly to Larissa’s suggestions. "Kill it," she muttered, her voice erratic. "Before… it con-"

"Hold on, Larissa." He pointed his horn at the shrine. A ball of dark energy began to gather at its tip. "It dispelled my magic before, but let's see how it'll handle this!" He poured the distress that he garnered throughout this trip into this attack, hoping to shatter the abomination in one powerful swoop.

"Whatever you are, I'll destroy you." Sombra said, preparing to launch his attack, but something stopped him. Suddenly, he stopped charging the ball, and it just dissipated, filling the air with dark shimmering sparks.

Larissa barely managed to regain her composure as the unknown presence let go of her. She wanted to ask Sombra why he stopped, but noticed that he was staring straight into the eyes of the wooden wolf, completely motionless.

Her thought process was interrupted by a loud crack. She immediately turned to its source, and saw the wooden shrine rip in two, and if torn by an unseen, powerful force. Several splinters flew right past her, leaving a long scratch on her cheek. Then, before she could make up even a single thought about what happened, the destroyed shrine went up in flames.

Breathing heavily, she raised her head a little to get a better view, not understanding what exactly had happened. How did it just...? "Sombra?"

Sombra was still standing still, his eyes focused on the shrine. Suddenly, Larissa felt her senses fail her, and her mind drifting asleep. She reeled, trying to stay awake in vain, and then collapsed, shutting her eyes and drifting away into a dreamless slumber.

She awakened shortly after. Immediately after opening her eyes, she looked around to check if they were still in the same place. Much to her disappointment, it looked like they returned to where she and Sombra split up. The stallion himself was a few meters away from her, waking up from slumber, just as she was.

The whole affair definitely didn’t go according to her plans. "Sombra?" she intoned, sounding as though she had to ground herself in reality again. "The fuck happened?" She rubbed her eyes before feeling her head, wanting to check if her horn was still there for some reason.

"I..." Sombra shook his head in confusion. "I... had a vision."

"I'm pretty sure we just inhaled some poisonous polen," she replied, rubbing her head. "Let's..." she began, trying to get on her hooves again, ", just go."

"That was no hallucination. Believe me, I've been under the influence once - this was completely different." Sombra replied, dropping the bags he was still carrying and searching them for a flask of water. Once he had found it, he levitated it to Larissa. "Either this was somewhat of a defense mechanism, or a dream spell. Need a drink?"

"What dream spell? Think I sucked you off while you were out?" she asked him, taking the bottle of water and taking a deep gulp. "Pretty sure it was magic."

"Ugh, whatever. Did you satisfy your curiosity? No more trips planned?" He replied in an irritated tone.

"It," she began, frowning. Had it satisfied her curiosity? Not at all, if she was honest. "No, not actually," Larissa replied honestly, approaching Sombra. "Let's get back, though, sweetheart. I feel a little drained." By now, it was almost night. Strange. The dream fit seamlessly into the time they were having right now.

"Good idea." One of the few, actually. Sombra felt tired as well and he wouldn't mind a good nap. Hopefully, Larissa was tired enough to keep away from him for at least one night.

One thing still lingered in his mind, though. That moment when he looked into the eyes of the wolf, etched into the wood. He saw something wicked... something crazy.

He saw a titanic bird, of fire and metal, breathing flames like a dragon, turning anything in its way into ash and cinders. Behind it, a great firestorm followed, the very earth becoming black, charred coals. The phoenix was flying unhindered, until it turned its preying eyes to Sombra - but he didn't shake. He didn't run. He felt the scorching heat, its immolating maw opening to gorge on his flesh: but instead of turning away and escaping, he let out a chilling howl, summoning a blizzard of ice and snow. Right after his summon, the wolves came, bringing a blizzard of claws and teeth. Together, Sombra and the pack rushed at the firebird, the hellish flames splitting before their charge. Staying ahead, Sombra steadied his body and then lunged, leaping into the air right at the firebird, ready to clash with it in a battle to the death. In that dream, he was not himself. He was the wolf. He was the Alpha.

Sombra shook his head, still dizzy after the short sleep. The vision made little sense, and he couldn't understand the reason for it. Did he eat something bad this morning, or was Larissa right, and it was just an acid trip? Perhaps the shrine put him into slumber, and the sleep was the result of all the stress. Nevertheless, they were going home now, and that was all that mattered. He couldn't wait to down this memory in conversations with his friends, as well as a few cups of beer.

They would make their way towards Granitza again, both of them side by side, like warriors walking away from a battlefield. It was dark already when they moved, so Larissa kept her horn lit for a while, before her magic gave out. There was a headache growing behind her horn that she couldn't shake off and was getting worse the more they walked. It got so bad that, halfway to Granitza, Larissa lowered herself against a tree, breathing deeply. "Sombra," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I really don't feel well."

"All drained, huh?" He hummed. What a sight - she actually was tired. "Have some rest - I can carry you."

She was leaning her head against the tree, eyes closed. What was wrong with her? The entire ordeal with the shrine had just been an illusion, right? When Sombra moved in to grab her, he would notice that she was hot to the touch and sweating. Fever.

"Oh, crap. You're going to need a doctor. Now..." He leaned under her, positioning himself just right. Larissa was clearly in a bad state - he'd have to handle her with care. "-up you go."

He stood up, lifting her into the air. Larissa was by no means light, but Sombra felt confident that he could carry her home. "You'll be fine, don't worry."

"Thank you," came the quiet reply, but she didn't feel confident enough with speaking further. Her stomach was turning and she was concentrating on not sullying Sombra's hide. She would make herself completely limp on his back. She didn't care if it was not the most flattering position for her to be in.

Soon, they came out of the woods and back into the town. Sombra immediately hurried Larissa to the mansion where he could put her to bed. Out of any medics, they only had their garrison's surgeon, who earned extra gold by helping the commoners, but that wasn't an option - he knew jack shit about magical afflictions, and even less about how to treat them. Sombra had only himself to rely on.

He entered the mansion, ignoring everypony in his way. Thankfully, he didn't encounter Lord Radiant, although that decrepit fuck was unlikely to get up by himself, or Crumbled Paper. Once they reached their bedchambers, Sombra carefully put Larissa down on the soft bed.

"How are you feeling?" He checked her head - it was still burning. "Not good, I wager." Before heading out to make her something to drink, he levitated a small bucket towards the bed - in case she felt sick.

"I'll be back soon. Hold on."

By the time they had arrived in the village, Larissa had completely descended into a state of half-sleep. She knew what her problem was: Magical entropy. This shouldn't have happened, however. It made no sense. The more she thought about it, the more she felt like she was going to be sick, so she tried not to. Dimly noting that he had said something to her, she turned her head. "Water," she croaked, feeling like there was sand running down her throat.

"Yeah, yeah." Sombra murmured and then ran off. He soon returned with a cup of water from the storage. Guessing by the color of Larissa's face, he immediately knew that he'd have to help her drink.

"Careful now." He held her head with his hooves, while levitating the cup, pouring the water down her throat in controlled dozes, so that she wouldn't choke.

The first gulps were nigh-on painful, but the more the drank, the easier it got. Still, it upset her stomach and she soon signalled him to put the cup away. There had to be something they could do. However, Sombra wasn't a proficient spellcaster, so that wouldn't do. Of course! "The gemstone," she muttered, meaning the little gem she had used to suck up Sombra's excess magical energy when they had trained in the library. She had drained him of excess magical energy back then to prevent him from hurting himself. It might be able to help her. "From the library."

"Give me a moment." Sombra rushed away and soon returned with the gemstone floating by his side. It was pulsating with dim light, hungering magic.

She held out a hoof to accept the gem. What followed was remarkably unspectacular, as she simply held it against her horn. There was a small sizzling upon connection and the inner glow of the gem dimmed before Larissa went limp, falling asleep, her breathing slow and even. The gem fell out of her hand and onto the ground.

"Whew." Sombra breathed a sigh of relief. In a way, they were now even - she once helped him, and now, he helped her. Feeling spent after the long day, he snuck under the blanket, hoping that Larissa wouldn't mind, or kick him too much.

The night itself would be spent in silence. Larissa was sweating still, making the bed somewhat clammy and hot, but it wasn't something she could regulate anyways, so complaining would've been wasted breath. In the morning, she would still sleep, fevering, although her breathing was normal, and her sleep was calm and sound. Sombra took it upon himself to watch over her. Until her full recovery, he had to be around her days and nights.

Prologue

The milky white clouds were running in the sky, which itself had the color of a river that streamed down into the unknown, and undoubtedly, found itself a cliff to fall down from. The sky must be alike. Somewhere, far beyond the horizon, this crystal blue water would fall down from the sky to pour all over the land below. Maybe that was how the great seas and oceans were formed: with clouds turning into land the instant they hit the surface.

Summer brought many other beautiful gifts as well, like the breeze that blew through the streets and alleys of Crystal City and around the ponies that strolled around thereupon, who shuddered from the surprising amount of cold it brought. It contrasted strongly with the sun that was pouring its scorching heat down on the world.

The huge red-burning disk in the middle of the heavenly ocean was the pinnacle of summer's power. It was the most precious thing in its collection, its pride, and most beautiful wonder. The golden rays hit the young crystal unicorn right in the eye, making him wink and turn away. The sunlight made his blue sparkling coat seem almost blinding. If he could fly, he would seem almost as blue as the sky. But why would he need to fly, when he already was in the seventh heaven?

Amethyst turned away from the sun and smiled to himself. The warmth seemed to wrap around him and the south-west wind played with his long pale red mane. It sometimes got into his eyes as he walked, and he had to brush it off with his hoof. Ponies that saw him walking down the street would immediately brighten up if they were sad, or smile at him, if they’d already been happy. They looked at the colt who sashayed down the street, his every step looking like a jump of a swift and agile bunny.

But none knew the reason for his happiness. That reason was quite simple yet at the same time important, perhaps the most important thing to ever happen to a colt in any country, in any time period, in any empire, of every species. The moment every husband awaited day and night, anywhere in the world. The moment, when he’d become a father.

Amethyst stopped for a second and inhaled, filling his lungs with fresh air of summer. The tiny particles of dust slipped into his nose, tickling it, and right when was about to let out a loud sigh of happiness, he let out a loud sneeze.

"Gesundheit!" the nearby crystal pony called out to him, looking at this happy unicorn.

Amethyst scratched his nose, and smiled at the stranger. "Thank you!"

"You look very happy, friend. Care to share the news?" the crystal pony asked. Amethyst was pleased by this friendly attitude, and the fact that the stranger cared.

"Of course! These news are too pleasant to be quiet about! Today, I will become a parent! I am a father!" he proclaimed, while the emotions filled him to the brim. He couldn't just stand still anymore, and jumped into the air shouting loudly.

"I am a father!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, while up in the air. Many ponies turned around and looked at him. Some looked with displeasure, because shouting in the street wasn't really a common occurrence in Crystal City. Amethyst blushed after realizing that dozens of eyes were pinned right at him.

"I'm happy for you, but you don't need to yell, you know," the stranger noted, though he smiled at the same time. Amethyst could only utter an awkward apology, and slowly make his way onward down the street. The color on his cheeks still persisted as he galloped through the crowd, though many ponies looked at him with smiles. Some already knew this feeling, having lived through this moment, and now it just warmed their hearts to see yet another colt experiencing it.

The crowded streets of Crystal City were buzzing like a giant hive of bees. The sharp tips of gigantic towers that looked upon the city below, like mountains that stood before a small field, were turning the light into many multicolored rays. It was a special feature of the crystals the towers were made of. All inhabitants of the city enjoyed looking at the lightshow in the middle of the hot day. This natural display of beauty that appeared when a masterful pony tampers with the elements of nature showcased what kind of heights the Crystal Empire had reached through the generations since its creation.

Finally, Amethyst reached the garden of the maternity hospital. The beautiful birches along were rocking back and forth due to the soft touch of the wind. The green leaves, which covered their crowns with a natural garland, trembled and whistled during even the weakest breeze. All of these trees had been imported from other countries, for the fields of the Crystal Empire were quite harsh to plants and trees, allowing only unhealthy looking grass to grow on its surface. Every tree that’d be planted into the Crystal Empire’s soil would wilt and die slowly, which made the sight of them all the more precious.

Because of that, the public parks were one of the most beautiful places many miles around. The Emperor really wanted his subjects to see the beauty of nature not only in the reflections of crystals, but by witnessing the wild growth of trees, flowers, and bushes.

Amethyst reached a small bench on the side of the road to the maternity hospital, not far from the entrance. From that place, he could overlook all the windows on the front of the hospital. In one of these rooms was his beloved wife, the pony Amethyst treasured more than anything in his life: Willemite.

The dreamy unicorn looked down onto the ground, remembering the day the good news had befallen his ears. It had been a rainy day; the sky was covered in the shell of grey clouds, and the small droplets of water only starting to fall down turning into thousand small particles, when his beloved approached him with a wide smile on her face. Even though the sun was hidden far behind the thick curtain of clouds, her eyes had shone brighter than any star.

Amethyst was just waiting for her to return from the hospital. Willemite had felt sick this morning, and he’d accompanied her to the doctor. But it turned out that, after a session with the first therapist, she had to visit yet another doctor.

Amethyst looked at her, confusion clearly written on his face. He just didn't understand what happy news the doctor could’ve had for her. The only ponies that shone this bright when coming out of hospitals were those who've just been informed that they were not sick, or?

"What are we so happy about, hmm? I never saw you this oozing with excitement since I proposed to you," Amethyst said, tilted his head, and looked straight into his wife's big brown eyes.

"Amethyst, I have great news for you. After visiting the therapist, I decided to pay a visit to gynecologist, just in case. Do you know what he told me?" she said with excitement that almost made her jump in place and bite her lip.

"Dear, I'm not a mare, I don't know what gynecologists tell to you," Amethyst joked, and Willemite giggled. She enclosed him in a warm hug, rubbing her head against his temple.

"I'm pregnant, honey! We're going to have a baby!" she said in a festive voice, right into his ear.

The rain was getting stronger, but Amethyst didn't care. He didn't look for shelter. Instead, he pressed his wife against himself as hard as he could. There were no words in the entire world that could describe his love for her right now. Burning, bright, passionate, all these words paled before what he felt. Willemite, his most precious pony, his beloved gem, his wife – she’d have a baby! And it was his baby! His son or daughter!

Amethyst smiled. That day, they’d both gotten wet and barely managed to get home without falling into a puddle of mud, but they were so happy that they didn't even notice. And now, after waiting for so long — these eight months dragged on for ages, it seemed — the day had come. Today, he would see his little baby in all his or her glory. He already imagined how she or he would look like, what kind of future would await him or her.

If it was a mare, it’d be the prettiest mare alive, even more beautiful than his wife, which would be an impressive feat to achieve. The colts would be swarming before her door, offering their heart and hoof to her. Even the Emperor would be blinded by the way her crystal coat would reflect the light. And there would come a day when she’d come to her old parents, smile innocently, and tell them that they’d become grandparents soon.

If it was a stallion, he’d be brave and strong, courageous and honorable. He’d become a great general, leading the army of the Crystal Empire to victory, or a wise magician, a teacher of the arcane arts in the University of Magic. Every mare in the Empire would talk about him, and turn as red as a tomato when he passed nearby. Their eyes would follow his gait, and some of them might even faint in amazement.

Suddenly, Amethyst noticed movement in one of the windows. He quickly turned his attention, fixing his sight at this one square hole in the wall. His heart beat like a war drum, the sweat ran down his face, and his mouth widened in an insane smile. It was born out of great worry, but anypony who would see him right now would think he were insane.

Finally, all his worry turned into nothing but fog as his beautiful wife leaned over the windowsill. The wind suddenly struck, making her silver mane flutter and wave around her horn as though nature was trying to showcase her beauty. Her coat shimmered with bright green color that sparkled and flickered in the sunlight. She looked down, noticing her husband.

"What is it?" Amethyst shouted, looking up right at her. She smiled to him in return.

"It's a stallion! Come up here, take a look at him!" her melodic voice reached his ears, and Amethyst rushed to the entrance.

In just several minutes, he was going through the white corridors, wearing a medical gown. The doctors wouldn't allow otherwise; sterility had to be kept. Besides, Amethyst didn't want to ruin the pureness of this hospital. Even from the outside, this building looked like it was polished until the surface started reflecting the sun like a mirror. But the kids were obliged to have the best things.

Finally, Amethyst reached the room wherein his wife was waiting for him. The doctor, who kept an overly serious face through their entire little journey, opened the wooden obstacle in the eager father's way, and welcomed him to enter.

The room was quite spacey and comfy. The walls were painted in a soothing pale pink color to keep the young mothers calm and relaxed. Two beds stood lengthwise by the walls opposite of each other. There were also a few cupboards and shelves nearby, but what really attracted Amethyst's attention was the cradle right in the middle of the room.

Willemite sat on the side of her bed that stood in the right side. The instant Amethyst entered the ward, she jumped off and approached him to encase him in her warm embrace. In return, he kissed her on the cheek and carefully ran his hoof through her curly mane.

"So, how are you doing, dear?" he said in a dreamy voice. "How did everything go?"

"It's alright. I don't think you really want to know the details," Willemite noted sarcastically, and Amethyst sneered. He had a lot of reasons to refuse being along with his wife, along with accoucheurs, mainly because he had a very strong memory. If he saw something shocking, he would remember it for the rest of his life. So the secret of childbirth stayed just that, a secret for him.

"Yeah, I really don't. So, how's our boy?" he whispered in her ear.

"Take a look yourself."

There was somepony else in the room, a young mare, which was peacefully lying on her bed reading a book, when Amethyst entered. Now, she put away the romance novel, and looked on the couple right before her. She had brown mane and pretty red coat.

"Congratulations, Willemite. You're so lucky to have such a loving husband!" she said, not even knowing if her voice would reach the happy mare's ears that was too occupied with her husband's whispers.

"Thank you! I wish you luck. May the sun’s light always follow you and your children," Willemite replied to her. Amethyst looked over his wife's shoulder. This mare seemed to be Willemite's neighbor, and they, most likely, had become good friends while lying here. The mare's belly looked like a balloon, which signified that she had at least 6 months of pregnancy behind her.

"Hi!" Amethyst greeted, and smiled awkwardly, seconds later receiving a painful poke in the side by his wife. "Ouch, that was completely unnecessary."

"Oh, really? Come on already, let's look at the child," Willemite concluded, and together, the two parents approached the cradle. Amethyst leaned over the wooden wall and looked upon his son for the first time.

The baby slept peacefully, lazily turning from side to side, wrapping the violet blanket around its fragile body. Sometimes, he swung his small hooves around in his bed, as if running somewhere. Once in a while, the child let out a quiet squeak, while shielding his eyes from the light. At one point, the little colt tried to reach his own horn.

The one detail Amethyst noticed was his color scheme. He and Willemite had very bright colors, both mane and coat. Both of their parents had bright colors as well, so Amethyst couldn't figure out why the child was born with colors like these. He had a dark gray coat and pitch black mane, which the kid sometimes used as his chewing toy, though he quickly realized that it wasn't edible. Even his horn was of pale grey color, which meant that his magical aura would be of the same.

Well, Amethyst thought to himself, nature can pull off many tricks. Who knows, maybe one of my ancestors wore the same colors. In fact, this dark color scheme will benefit my son in the future. Girls like edgy boys, right?

"He's adorable, is he not?" Willemite gushed, looking at her newborn son, when suddenly, he stopped whirling in the cradle and turned his head towards his parents. He slowly opened his eyes and took a good look upon the world around him.

"Oh, my, these eyes. These are mine, I tell you!" Amethyst exclaimed, looking into his son's green eyes. They reminded him of the trees outside, and himself, when he looked into the mirror.

"Yes, he has your eyes, but my nose!" Willemite responded, pointing at the child's small nose, which really did resemble her own.

The child raised its tiny hooves towards his parents, letting out quiet mumbling. It consisted of incomprehensible cooing, but Amethyst couldn't help but lend his own hoof to the child and see what he’d do to it. The kid wrapped its weak limbs around his father's hoof and started biting it with his toothless mount. Amethyst let out a giggle. It tickled.

"He's such a beautiful kid. One day, he will make us proud," Willemite said, smiling and looking at her son.

"Hah, what a fine stallion we shall raise! All the mares in the kingdom will fall to his feet and beg for the engagement ring, I am certain!" Amethyst proclaimed proudly, receiving another poke into his side. "Ouch!"

"It's way too early to think about that... But I have to agree. You can't dislike such a pretty face," she said, and they both looked as the child tried to swallow Amethyst's hoof completely. A minute passed, another one, and they still stood there, looking at their little boy.

"What should we name him? My father would love the name Ruby Eye. He always adored that name, and would have named me that way, if I were a colt," Willemite offered, but Amethyst made a disappointed face and shook his head in denial. No, that was no name fit for his son. His name must be something special, something truly great and amazing. This was his son. He had to receive the best thing life had to offer, starting with a name.

"No, no, dear. He needs an uncommon name, a name that will show him that he's special. He's different from the others, because he is our son," Amethyst said, sounding very serious. Willemite turned quiet, and he carefully took his hoof away from the child, and leaned closer to him, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Listen to me, my sweet child. You are destined for greatness, I can feel that with the very bottom of my heart," he whispered, and moved closer. "One day, the whole Crystal Empire will be talking about you. You will be famous, you will be great, you will be powerful, but most important of all, you will be happy."

The child smiled at him, and let out sounds that sounded like laughter. Amethyst smiled, feeling his son's warm breath on his cheek.

"Bear this name with pride, for one day, it shall become famous around the whole Empire... famous around the whole world! Bear it with pride, and always remember those who gave you life... Sombra."

Author's Note

Leave your thoughts and comments below! Hope you'll enjoy the rest of this saga! Have fun!

Always Near You

"He-he. You really shouldn't have done that. Now, you'll suffer the wrath of my almighty pawns!" the reverberating young voice exclaimed, as its owner made a bold move on the chess board. He moved one of his pawns forward, threatening his enemy's rook. He smiled widely, showcasing his white teeth.

"Argh, blast it! I swear to the Emperor, I thought I had you... It seems I was mistaken," his opponent replied, desperately trying to save that rook with a pawn of his own.

"No, friend, no. That's another mistake you made: going in for the kill!" the young voice spoke happily as the queen quickly flew through the air, swiping the rook off the board.

"Well, my friend, that's shah for you. Make your move," the young voice exclaimed and his opponent sighed heavily.

"I can't do anything. Congratulations, Sombra, you win."

Two young boys were sitting at the table with the chess board lying right between them. Just minutes ago, a bloody war had been waged on its colored squares. One of the combatants was a very young colt with black mane and pale grey coat. He had big green eyes and wore a little red linen scarf that looked hand-woven, surely made by his mother. The other was a teenager, a unicorn, probably between sixteen and seventeen years old, with an ivory coat and grey mane. He was quite fit; he probably liked to run around his neighborhood a lot.

"It seems the pupil hath surpassed the teacher, alas," the teenager exclaimed, and the young foal clapped his hooves together. "You're a quick learner, Sombra, I'll have to give you that."

"Thank you, Star Gem, I really appreciate that. But still, you were the best teacher ever!" Sombra said and smiled at his teacher.

Star Gem sighed and swiped the figures away from the board. It was amazing really – he’d started teaching Sombra the art of chess just two weeks ago, and now the young foal could easily match him. It seemed like this boy had the mindset of a true tactician – he quickly adapted to any situation on the imaginary battlefield, his young brain quickly came up with new strategies that Star Gem didn't even know were possible.

Sombra got up from the chair and started running around the garden to chase butterflies in celebration of his glorious victory. Star Gem, too, got up, and looked at the young child – some years ago, he used to be just like young Sombra right now: young, full of energy, and ready to learn and play all day long. Sometimes, he envied children.

While the dark colored foal ran hither and yon in the garden, Star Gem gathered the chess figures and put them bag in the bag along with the board itself. He liked days like these, sunny and beautiful, when no one had school and he could just have some fun.

Colts his age liked to hang around mares, or bunch up in groups to do something nasty like drinking their lives away in some high-quality pub since children of rich landlords were never satisfied with less. Star Gem was a bit of a loner in his school. It was one of the most expensive schools in the city and, just as expected, it was filled with either complete snobs or complete thugs. Star Gem preferred the company of his little friend any time over any of those jerks.

Sombra ran a few more circles around the trees and, eager to catch a butterfly, overestimated his physical capabilities, thus burrowing his face in the soft grass. Star Gem couldn't help but chuckle at the little pony.

"Be careful, Sombra, I don't want you to get hurt. Your mom's going to kill me if anything happens to you!" he joked. Sombra got up, wiped the dirt away within a second, and galloped towards Star Gem with a wide smile that showcased his milk-teeth. The boy had pretty sharp teeth for his age, the teenage unicorn noted. He once saw him biting off a piece of wooden furniture for Emperor's sake! Star Gem had such a hard time explaining why father's favorite cabined got deep teeth marks on its surface.

"I'm alphight, Staph, no need to woffy... ah!" Sombra managed to utter, before noticing that he got his mouth full of earth. He started spitting it all out, coughing, when some small chunks got into his throat.

"Blegh, yuck. I hope I didn't swallow anything bad," he said, swiping away the remaining dirt on his lips. For that, he received a hearty laugh from Star Gem.

"Oh, my... Sombra, you're hilarious. When you grow up, consider a career as a comedian, okay?" he laughed, approached his little friend and wiped the dust from his cheeks. These years of innocence, these years of being a child — Star Gem remembered his fondly. He remembered how he used to run around the garden, playing with his favorite toy: a wooden figure of a winged pony, a so called Pegasus, from foreign lands.

His games had been as innocent as the games of a six year old could be: imagining himself flying high up in the sky, soaring across the clouds as his wide and strong wings touch these milky stains. He’d fly another circle around the biggest tree in the garden and safely 'land' near the table, where mother was preparing dinner. Those had been such great times, back when he could see his mother and father much more often than now. His wooden companion always landed near the plate that was filled to the brim with food, and Star Gem never forgot to give him some too.

"How long till mommy gets back?" Sombra asked, looking at Star Gem with his big brown eyes. He smiled and hugged the kid, pressing his head against his chest. Not too hard – they weren't relatives after all, the little one might get confused or scared. Just a friendly hug, nothing more.

"Your mother should be here any moment. As long as I remember, she just needs to wash the dishes, and that's all. Considering how long it has been already, she should be done by now, and is now making her way here," Star Gem said, remembering what the clock showed when Willemite asked him to watch over Sombra.

"Do we have time for another chess game?" the dark colored foal questioned, looking at his friend.

"Well, unfortunately, no. You might not have noticed, but chess sessions can take a lot of time. How about we play something else?" Star Gem offered, and Sombra grinned as menacingly as a child could.

"Alright, then... you're it!" he exclaimed merrily, and dashed to the left, avoiding Star Gem. He giggled in reply and darted in Sombra's direction.

Their chase continued for about a minute wherein Sombra jumped through bushes and over small branches, and Star Gem managed to stumble twice over the same stick, barely holding his balance. This wonderful race was interrupted by Willemite coming into the garden.

"Mother!" Sombra loudly exclaimed as he ran towards her and jumped right into her embrace. Star Gem who reeled and stumbled over every rock with his tongue hanging on the side of his mouth approached the two, breathing heavily.

"I have... to admit... He's pretty fast!" he panted with long pauses between words to inhale. The drops of sweat were running down his face, making his sparkling skin seem even shinier.

"Thank you so much for watching over Sombra. He can be such a madcap at times, I hope he didn't give you any trouble," Willemite, who gently pressed her son's head closer to her chest, said.

"Oh, no, of course not! Your son is a very good kid. In fact, this isn't even work for me. Playing with him is more fun than anything I ever did, honest!" Star Gem replied, and Willemite smiled in return with red color touching her cheeks as she blushed.

Star Gem took a moment to look at her. There was something attractive about this mare. Maybe it was the mane which flowed in the wind. Maybe it was her figure which, despite her not doing too much sports, was quite fit and slim. But what really pinned the attention to her were the big brown eyes. These weren't just ordinary eyes; these were windows into her soul. When he glanced into them, he could see everything that was on her mind. Sadness, happiness, anger, loneliness – she was like an open book which his father, for whom she worked, freely read, using her unordinary eyes to read and manipulate her. Sometimes, Misty Pearl asked Willemite to wait another month before paying out her wage, or convinced her to stay extra time before paying extra. Star Gem was always greatly angered by such acts, because afterwards, he could see such sadness in Willemite's eyes. It felt like she was about to cry every second, and the teen unicorn could understand why – she had her own family to worry about, her world wasn't limited to only Misty Pearl's house. So, every time this happened, Star Gem took some money out of his personal storage and secretly put it in Willemite's bag, since she always refused to take money from someone else than Misty Pearl. It was amazing how she always stayed proud and brave, even when the times were tough.

"I am so glad to hear that from you," she said, dropping a glance at her son who burrowed himself in her mane, probably happy to finally have his mother nearby. Star Gem couldn't agree more with him – this feeling when your protector was nearby was something that he could never forget or let go.

"But still, you had to spend your free time, so how can I repay you?" she suddenly asked whereupon Star Gem just shook his head.

"No, no! A reward is completely unnecessary. I would actually be alright with paying you for a chance to play with your son. He's such a cutie, I have to admit," the teen replied, rubbing his neck, and noticed Sombra burrowing himself even deeper into his mother's hair.

He must be having such a blush he's afraid to show it. Star Gem couldn't help but giggle quietly at such sight.

"Thank you, my lord. It's a pleasure to serve you," Willemite said, lowering her head before Star Gem, and he rolled his eyes. This idiocy again.

There was this stupid tradition of servants treating their employers like royalty. It was very popular in the Golden Age of Crystalum, during the reign of Emperor Sol. His son, Lux, had gotten rid of this tradition when he inherited the throne and tried to equalize the rich and the poor, but old habits die hard. Even though Willemite was being held by a contract only — she could leave at any time — she was still calling the members of this family 'my lord', or 'my mistress'. Star Gem always hated this tradition with passion.

"Star Gem, Willemite. It's just Star Gem, or, better yet, just Star. Please, call me that," he said with a smile, which she returned.

"If you wish so, Star," she replied in a calm voice. "I think we'll be on our way. It's quite late, and Sombra must be pretty hungry."

"Oh, of course, you may go. You've done a great service for us, Willemite. Thank you," he said, approached her, and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder. There was a plus side to being rich: he could talk with ponies that were older than himself as equals. If he ever tried to pat his father on the shoulder, he’d be frowned upon for at least a week.

Willemite rewarded Star Gem with a smile and the feeling of happiness and warmth in her big brown eyes.

"Goodbye, Star Gem!" Willemite said, and little Sombra turned around and started waving his small hoof as his way of saying farewell. Just as Star Gem had suspected, the kid's cheeks had a nice mix of grey and red colors. Oh, how shy he must have felt.

After saying their goodbyes, Willemite and Sombra left through the door that led right outside, ignoring the passage through the house. Star Gem was alone now, alone with his thoughts. He breathed in, and decided to go on a peaceful stroll around the trees, just to think about something at this time of peace.

He approached the biggest tree in the garden – an old oak with many pictures cut onto its bark. Star Gem looked at one of these and saw a big tower with a maiden looking outside, and a lonely knight who slowly walked towards her.

He smiled at the sight of this picture: he and his sister, Night Spark, made this when she was just four years old and he five. They imagined themselves as the characters from their favorite story, an old fairy-tale, and after playing in the garden, decided to encrypt this memory for the days to come.

Star Gem touched the rough surface of the tree’s bark, feeling the small pricks entering his flesh. He ignored the pain, and continued slowly caressing the pictures in the wood, his sweet childhood memories. How he missed those days when he and his sister used to play in the garden and when they overstayed, mother would come and berate them. Lovingly, of course, as every mother did.

Mother... This word was so dear to any pony ever born. Mother – the mare that made him possible, the mare by whose will he existed. Star Gem sighed heavily, remembering his sweet mother: her long, flowing, ivory mane, her warm body that had the color of a green apple. She always smelled like bread, mayhap because she’d cooked a lot. But the biggest impact left on Star Gem's soul made her eyes – big purple eyes, in which he could read her soul like an open book.

Star Gem looked down into the ground and sighed once again. "What a lucky kid you are, Sombra. Your mother is the sweetest of all mares in the world. Ah..." he whispered to himself. "I miss you, mom... I really do."

***

The streets of Crystal City were crowded. The air was busy and hot, not only because of the sun which was already going down, but because of the sheer amount of ponies on the streets. An unsuspecting eye would go blind from such a light show – so many colors flickering and shimmering in the sunlight. The air was filled with sound, so many words and sentences mashed together into one big mess, it all turned out as a horrible pressure for the young child’s ears. Sombra, who was unused to such noise, tried to cover his ears, but to no avail; the noise was deafening even then. He moved closer to Willemite, almost attaching himself to her hoof. She, though, didn't say anything about it, and just continued walking, making sure that Sombra didn't fall behind at any point.

Many thoughts were whirling in her mind. This noise, this flickering; they were all nothing to her, just a small patch of sand that flew past. All this busyness didn't concern her one bit. All that mattered was the defenseless foal that attached himself to her hoof.

Her little son. Oh, how she wished she could do more for him. Willemite looked to her left, and noticed a small café wherein ponies ordering themselves a dish of food or some ice-cream could be seen. It was nothing but a distant dream for her boy, nothing but something to look at, while saliva dripped from his mouth. The reason was simple: they just didn't have money.

At first it was all good, almost peaceful. They bought a nice new house in the downtown; it had been a pretty cheap deal. Amethyst wanted his family to live closer to the center, closer to the royalty, and thus it happened.

Not far away was a giant park, one of the most beautiful places in the whole Crystal City. Pairs of lovers used to visit it every so often, happy families gathered around for picnics and other fun activities. Sometimes, when she had a day off, Willemite would take Sombra for a walk through this park, but those days were rare and precious – she worked almost every day from dusk until dawn.

It all started to go downhill after Amethyst got into a debate with one of his superiors in the University of Magic, where he’d been employed as a professor of arcane arts. From a small grudge, it turned into a giant scandal, complete with shouting, loud insults, and threats. It all resolved after that superior said something that hurt Amethyst so deeply that he couldn't help but to punch the offender straight in the jaw.

Because of that incident, Amethyst was banned from the University; he could never apply for a job there anymore. So, he had to look for a new way to earn his living. Every day, before going to work, Willemite approached her troubled husband, kissed him on the forehead, and told him that everything was going to be alright. But after two years of empty searches, even she started to lose hope. Willemite was forced to look for a job herself and there had been nothing better but being a servant in some rich pony's house.

Her worst fear concerned Sombra. The boy was growing up, he was already six. Next year, he'd hit seven, and that meant he’d go to school. A lot of money was needed for school, even for a municipal one. She had to buy books, pens, extra learning material, and even hire teachers if her child didn’t understand something. It was a mess – and Willemite's family wasn't prepared for it.

Willemite and Sombra made their way to the downtown, or so she used to call it when Sombra was within. In reality, these were downright slums. It was always dirty, dusty, and the alleys were sure to hide some crude thug who’d beat up unsuspecting passers to take their money regardless of their gender or age. That was the main reason Sombra always stayed at home and went only outside with his parents. What would happen to a lonely child in these parts? It was scary to imagine.

Willemite was amazed at first, and not in a good way. She couldn’t comprehend why the city guards didn’t patrol here, even though this part of Crystal City was quite near to the mansions of some of the richest ponies that lived here. This question answered itself when she thought about it: the rich were just too smart to come down here. As a result, this place became a playground for their kids who wanted to have some innocent fun by beating up a pony or two.

There was no part of the street where one wouldn't see garbage or mud. A shining corner was such a rare sight that Willemite sometimes got blinded by the purity of Misty Pearl's house when she arrived there to clean and cook. The residents of the house were quite welcoming, especially Star Gem. That boy never missed a chance to help Willemite if she had any trouble. He was always pretty polite for his age and position. His sister, Night Spark, however, was everyone’s typical cookie-cutter rich bitch. Her whining and complaints sometimes got to everypony's nerves that even Misty Pearl asked her to keep quiet.

Every time she started yet another scandal, Willemite couldn't help but notice how Star Gem looked at her. There was no anger, no frustration, and no happiness either – it was just sadness. He looked at his sister’s misbehavior, and his eyes started to fill with tears. Willemite, as a mother, could see that clearly.

The head of the family, Misty Pearl, had been a widower for as long as Willemite knew. He didn't talk much about his deceased wife, preferring to ignore any questions, sometimes even turning them down rudely. From what Willemite heard, she’d died several years ago from a heart disease. She started to feel very bad for Misty Pearl’s children – losing their mother at such a young age was a devastating blow to a child. From time to time Willemite ignored Night Spark's provocations, understanding deep inside what this girl had to go through.

At last, Willemite and Sombra reached a medium sized wooden house that stood by a big wall. There were a few more houses like this nearby, but this one had stuck out for Amethyst for some unexplained reason. He thought it was really neat, and set his sight on it. He’d just said, “This is the home to raise our child in!”, or something along those lines. All in all, he had been pretty excited.

That excitement had slowly died out as he lost his job and couldn't find any other. If he’d succeeded in finding a job this time, he wouldn’t be at home right now. Willemite prayed to every god in the universe that, when she pushed the door, it’d let out a satisfying knock and wouldn’t open.

She carefully and slowly approached the entrance and extended her hoof to reach for the door handle. Every nerve in her body shivered in hope.

The door opened without any hesitation, and Willemite sighed heavily. It seemed she’d have to work double next week to pay for food. Without further ado, she entered the house.

She was greeted by a rug, made out of fur, several cupboards near the entrance, a rack, in case somepony came in with a coat, and a picture of their happy family drawn by Sombra that hung on the wall to the left of the door.

Sombra quickly cleaned his hooves on the rug and ran to his room. Willemite glanced as he opened the door leading to his 'castle' as he liked to call it and closed it behind him. He probably expected his father to meet them at the entrance, and since he didn't, the child thought he were away. Good – Willemite and Amethyst would be able to have some serious conversations without Sombra having to listen to all of this. And there was a lot of heavy stuff a child should never listen to.

Willemite opened the door that led to the kitchen and, as she had expected, saw Amethyst who sat at the table looking at the empty plate. There were still some crumbs of bread and green pieces of leaves there, so it was obvious he scrambled himself something to eat, and then sat like this, for an hour or more. The creak of the door awoke him from this slumbering state, making him shudder and look towards the source of the sound.

"Oh, hello, dear," Amethyst said, the notes of sadness could be heard in his voice. He smiled at her, but Willemite didn't react, she only closed the door behind her so Sombra wouldn't hear them from his room. Amethyst immediately turned grim, knowing what was going to happen.

"So, what is it this time?" Willemite asked in a calm voice. But through this cold monotone, the heat of anger which boiled inside her could be felt.

"They just refused to take me. I don't know why... It's like the whole world turned against me," Amethyst uttered, hiding his face behind his hooves. Willemite still noticed the red color on his cheeks. He was lying. Again.

"Yeah, so? I gave you the money, in case they asked for some. Where is it?" Willemite asked as she sat down on the chair on the opposite side of the table. The plate clattered a bit when she made herself comfortable.

"I got ro... robbed on the way home," her husband replied, looking to the side in an attempt to hide his sight from his wife's angered look.

"Again? Third time this month. Do you even understand where your addiction will take us, Amethyst? Be honest: did you visit that foul den again?" Willemite asked, as her anger started getting out of control. Amethyst started shaking from these words.

"Dear, I... I thought I could win this time. I almost ha—" Amethyst started, but was interrupted by a loud shriek.

"You're driving me insane!" Willemite hissed, rashly getting up as her blood started boiling. "You can't win! You never won, and never will! You're a born loser!"

"Please, don't say that. I made a mistake, it won't happen again!" Amethyst tried to calm his wife down, but it was all useless.

"Won't happen again? You say every time! Every time! And then it does happen again! Why do you keep betraying me and your son?! He needs your attention; he needs your love, Amethyst! And what do you give him? Nothing!" Willemite growled, walking in circles around a distressed Amethyst. Small tears started forming in her eyes. "You don't want to work for his future! You only leech on my work! I wouldn't even care, but by hurting me, you hurt him! Sombra needs that money to go to school. Do you remember that he will have to go to school soon? Books, pens, pencils – it all costs money! Money that you waste in a gambling den!"

Her screams started changing tone from anger to sorrow. The tears that streamed down her paled face became bigger and bigger every second.

"I wouldn't care if you just did nothing. But you waste everything I bring home on this addiction of yours! Do you even understand that we may not have lunch for another three weeks because of you?!" she continued to hurt Amethyst with words, but with every spoken word her voice trembled. "Why do you keep doing this to him? Does our son mean nothing to you?"

"Stop, now! I love Sombra more than my life, don't say that! I just have problems, we all do. Please, give me time. Everything will change, you'll see," Amethyst suddenly sprang up and looked at his wife with mixed fury and sadness. Willemite turned to him, and Amethyst was shocked when he saw her face. Her huge eyes were watery, and small rills of tears were streaming down from them, forming into droplets on their way.

"Nothing will change... You say that every time, and nothing changes," she uttered and covered her face, unable to continue. Something was stuck in her throat, preventing her from saying anything else. Only quiet whimpers and sobs could be heard. Amethyst got up and came closer to his wife. He wanted to hug her, comfort her, let her cry on his shoulder. She was very worried, and his problems weren’t helping at all. But she refused his offer of help by pushing him away. She didn't put too much effort into the push, but it was clear that she didn’t want him anywhere near her.

"This can't go on like this anymore. It just... can't. I can't raise my son like this... not like this," Willemite sobbed, and Amethyst froze as though he were petrified. 'Our' and 'we' were gone from her speech. Did she not consider him as family anymore?

"The bedroom's all yours. Enjoy it," she whispered and walked out of the kitchen. Amethyst didn't say anything nor did he follow her – he just stayed there and looked down on the floor. What could he do? He couldn’t do anything. He used to be a powerful figure to his wife, a Stallion with the capital S. Who was he now? Just a nuisance on the shoulders of this beautiful mare who managed to carry both him and the little child who was probably playing in his room right now? He sighed heavily and sat down on the floor. It seemed that he’d sleep alone tonight.

***

"Ehem... may I come in? Please?" Willemite asked, having opened the door a wee bit to peek inside. Her face was still a bit wet, and the notes of sadness were still present in her big round eyes.

"Of course, mom... Are you okay?" little Sombra said, drawing his attention from his drawing. He really liked to draw. Some days, when he wasn't playing with anything, he’d just sit down, grab a piece of paper, and draw anything that would come to his mind. Those were mostly the pictures of heroes, dragons, other mythological beings. Of course, since he was just six, Sombra couldn't draw very well, but his mother enjoyed these pictures a lot.

She even put the picture of their family at the entrance. That was Sombra's best work so far, though, he wasn't too proud of it. He thought it was girl's stuff to draw families and ponies. He wanted to draw heroes, and battles, and dragons. Willemite just giggled and silently agreed. Ah, childhood, what a beautiful time.

"Yes, yes, I'm okay. I just... wanted to ask you for something," Willemite said, came inside, and approached Sombra. "May I... sleep in your room tonight? I'll sleep on the floor. Don’t worry: I won't be taking your personal space."

Sombra made a very thoughtful expression.

"What for? You usually sleep in your own room with dad," he said, and Willemite sighed heavily.

"I and your father are having a bit of a disagreement, honey," she admitted and sat down near her son. "It's an adult thing. You won't understand."

"I could try to," Sombra said in an uplift voice, and Willemite giggled. His happy mood made her feel a little bit better. Following her feelings, she hugged the boy, pressing his head against her chest and kissed him on the cheek.

"Well, if you're so eager to know, I'll try to explain it, honey. You see, I work very hard so that you, I, and your… father can buy food and other useful stuff, yes? The problem is that you are a growing up boy. Soon, you'll go to school, along with your body progressing, and that means that we'll need money. Besides, you, occasionally, will get some hobbies that you may want to advance in – and that costs even more money," Willemite started telling, looking up to the ceiling, remembering every little detail. "I am ready to give you as much money as you want, but... your father is not helping me. You're a stallion, Sombra, that means that, when you're married, you will go to work to earn money so your family will prosper. Your father is not doing that. Instead, he's wasting everything I bring to him."

"What does he waste it on?" the dark colored foal asked, but Willemite carefully put her hoof to his lips to silence the flood of questions that was surely about to follow.

"I won't tell you just yet. When you grow up, you'll find out yourself. It really hurts me to talk about it," she said in a suddenly quiet voice. Sombra quickly got the hint, and didn't talk anymore.

"It seems to me that he just doesn't want to help... I don't know why. So much has changed since you were born, dear."

"Did... I do something wrong?" Sombra asked.

"No, no! It's not your fault! Don’t even think about blaming it on yourself! As I said, it's an adult thing, you won't understand. Just wait a few years. You’ll understand everything, I promise," Willemite said, slowly running her hooves through his black mane.

"Okay... but why were you crying? This can't be so bad that it would drive you to tears," Sombra said, and she quickly rubbed the remaining salty water from under her eyes.

"Your mother is very sensitive. She can laugh about the silliest joke, and cry about the cheesiest tragedy. Don't pay too much attention," she said, berating herself in her own mind. How stupid do you have to be to not even wipe away your tears when entering this room? Children can be hurt very badly by even seeing a small drop in their parent's eye!

They laid together like this for a long time. They didn't talk anymore. Sombra only nestled near his mother, and at least half an hour of listening to her heartbeat later, he started snoring quietly. Willemite smiled at this, and her heart was filled with a fuzzy feeling. How long had it been since Sombra fell asleep in her embrace like this? It didn't happen for at least five years, when he was just an infant. Willemite wrapped her hooves around him, and pressed his body closer to hers. She wanted to feel the warmth of the most precious thing she still had in life. More important than money, happiness, even her life.

With those thoughts, she slowly closed her eyes, and allowed herself to drift into the land of dreams. The images she saw seemed strange and disturbing, but the peaceful snoring of her son drove away any nightmare that might have wanted to claim her mind. He was there, right beside her, always nearby.

Snowfall

Winter in the Crystal Empire was, and would always be, a sight to behold. Entire armies of snowflakes were falling down onto the ground, covering the buildings and the rare trees in snow. There was not a single place outside of the roads where one wouldn't drown in the snowdrifts, get bogged down in these fluffy white piles. The wind peacefully carried the snowflakes, played with them, made them dance and do pirouettes.

Many kids slogged through the snowy streets, looking either bright or a bit frustrated, for it was every child’s most favorite time: time of school. The imperial education system gave kids three months of rest in the summer, and several holidays throughout the whole year, like the Emperor's birthday, or the anniversary of a great battle or victory of the past, but that was about it. So, children always had to keep their minds occupied with mathematics, geometry, the grammar of their Crystallian, and in addition to that, the language Common.

It was a language created in association with several other countries, specifically the Gryphon Dominion, a strong kingdom located in the south, and the Conglomerate of Mountains, made up of doglike creatures living in the mountains far to the north. They seemed to only live by trading the minerals they dug up. Considering that the Crystal Empire was rich with, minerals, precious crystals, and metals, the Conglomerate tried to invade one time, but got pushed back so hard they gave up on this idea and resorted to trading. They still argue with the Emperor, asking to give them the lands Empire captured during the war back. But the most important part of this treaty that had given birth to a common language was the part of Great Fields. It was a short name for three tribes of ponies living right nearby the Crystal Empire, at the western border. These three tribes were: the Pegasi Republic, Earthville and the Unicorn Kingdom.

The three neighbors had quite a long history between each other and the Crystal Ponies, mainly because they were very alike. Crystal Ponies were quite similar to Earth Ponies from Earthville, having no particular features, except that the inhabitants of Great Fields were all dim-skinned. Unicorns were quite similar to crystal unicorns; the difference was, again, the fur and skin. However, the Pegasi were almost legendary in Empire for their ability to fly without using any devices except for the pair of wings each Pegasus had from birth. Earth Ponies and Unicorns, however, were never amazed by the flying ponies, having lived near them for Abyss knew how many centuries.

Earth Ponies were quite known in the Crystal Empire, for their agriculture being the reason for the Empire being in a financial crisis right now; unable to produce their own bread, they had to buy it from Earthville, who always held the Empire at a short leash, always reminding them of their inferiority when it came to trading and farming. Unicorns looked upon their crystal counterparts with indifference, rarely interacting with them. The Pegasi Republic preferred to avoid the Empire as well, only sometimes engaging in negotiations. They were rarely seen anywhere, and so became a role model for kids in the form of toys, who were amazed at their ability to fly.

All of these children would study at school when they were a bit older. History was a tough subject, but some liked it a lot. Sombra was one of them even though he didn't like going to school very much. Just like right now, as he was slogging through the piles of snow, looking down into the ground with a small rucksack dangling behind his back and an emotionless face all the way through the beautiful landscape.

Sombra stopped for a minute and looked at his reflection in a frozen puddle, right in the centre of the road. He hadn’t changed that much. He’d grown a bit, his cheeks were no longer light and meaty, he’d lost a few pounds and his limbs had become longer. His eyes looked tired, with tiny trails of pulsating veins in the corners. A long twelve hour sleep would be ideal for him, but the maximum he was able get was five hours, for the nightmares, depicting the horrible pictures he could never forget, tormented him.

Several years have passed since that night. Sombra was in the second grade, eight years old. Because of Willemite's death, the family was unable to afford a good school, and he’d been forced to go to the municipal school, which provided much less comfort for their students than a normal school would. But at least the books were given away there without the need to buy them.

The memories had imprinted themselves deep within the boy's memory, still hurting him, but over the years, Sombra managed to suppress the silent anger and sorrow. The wound caused by betrayal stopped bleeding. He’d never seen Star Gem since that day, and he hoped they would never meet again at all. The image of his mother lying in a pool of her own blood was a common guest in his nightmares, but he started to get used to it. He had maintained the state of melancholy quietly weeping in the corner only for several months, but it still left him unwilling to communicate with other children, who, mostly, looked bright and happy.

Sombra was an outsider in his school. He never participated in any games that kids from first to third grade used to play, preferring to always stay away from the crowd. He was never bullied, for others considered him to be either not right in the head or just not worthy of their attention, thus other kids avoided him as well. Good, because Sombra hated talking to others, for he feared he’d reveal his secret.

He looked more closely at his reflection and opened his mouth, examining his teeth closely. Several days after he’d used the Visio Aeternum, they’d changed dramatically, became much longer and sharper, even reminding him of the teeth a carnivore would have. It took him quite a while to get used to it, having to be extra careful when eating.

So far he managed to hide this from his father. Thankfully, they didn't talk that much and Amethyst was oft too drunk to look into his son’s mouth anyway. After his wife's death, he descended into drinking and gambling with nopony to keep him in line anymore. The only reason they still had money was because he sometimes went to beg on the street, and even giving Sombra some. He had to learn to survive on several coins for a week. The dinner in the school's cafeteria, thankfully, wasn't too expensive.

Sombra sighed loudly as he approached the gates leading to the school yard. The children were still playing there, throwing snowballs around and building castles. He ignored all the fun, went around and continued his way onward. Suddenly, another colt his age with brown mane and dark-maroon colored skin, a bit more plump than Sombra, joined his peaceful walk.

"Hello, Sombra," he greeted in a calm tone, and Sombra turned to him.

"Oh, hi, Iron Wheel, didn't see you there," he said in a bit of a tired voice.

Iron Wheel was his only friend at school, because he was an outsider just like Sombra, but mostly because he was considered mad. He was quite skilled at creating mechanisms, mostly very simple and small, but his dream was to create a machine that would allow crystal ponies to fly without being affected by the wind. He studied the design of air-balloons, which were quite common in the Crystal Empire, and called them useless and defect, since they were very dependent on wind. He drew complex schemes of an engine he would create, but teachers only laughed at him, considering such an idea to be impossible. Feeling lonely, these two became friends, sticking together and discussing interesting topics. They didn't tell each other about their families too much, however, as each had their own secrets to keep.

"Yeah, because I am that hard to notice!"

Sombra didn't reply, only continued walking towards the door leading to the hall. Iron Wheel grinned, knowing that his dark colored friend wouldn’t reply. He wasn’t much of a talker anyway. Most of their conversations went like this: Iron Wheel talked, Sombra listened, if he listened at all. He was mostly just staring down onto the floor or at the wall, as if seeing something there. Iron Wheel didn't mind his kinks since he was the only one who listened to his 'genial' ideas anyway.

"Oh, what did I want to tell you? So, I've been thinking about more effective designs for the hull and..." Sombra didn't listen to him. He didn't tell anything interesting anyway. He just needed a pony to not call him idiot when he talked about this stuff. Instead, Sombra was deep in his own thoughts, thinking of what he should do after school.

Going back home and then having to hear and smell his father's drinking was an unbearable idea. He couldn't get used to the stench of low-quality alcohol. Every time Amethyst passed him by, Sombra had to grip his mouth in order not to vomit. And his drunken screams made the boy wish he’ been born deaf, adding that to the constant nightmares, who in turn resulted in countless of sleepless nights.

It was much warmer inside the school than outside, at least that was something the school could afford – a heater. Both boys cleaned their hooves from snow and proceeded to head for the upper floor, where all the classrooms were. Iron Wheel and Sombra were in different forms, so the young, striving engineer went to the left and the grim, dark colored unicorn headed for the door right nearby the entrance to the stairs. He had a lesson of mathematics now, which he wasn't a big fan of. He’d never been a friend of exact sciences.

***

"The first time is always rough, I heard... But I hope you can teach me a thing or two later about this business. I'm sorry again, if I caused any trouble... I just wanted to make you happy again."

"I..ha...te....you."

"Sombra...forgive...me."

The scream, since the moment it had seeped into Sombra's ears, stayed there, echoing again and again. Louder and louder every single time. Sometimes, he loses track of what the other pony is speaking, for he cannot hear them over the insane shrieks that tear his eardrums into tiny shreds.

"You...f...freak..."

”This was something unreal!"

The whistling of the wind as she falls sometimes cut through the endless veil of screams, bringing a vain hope of freedom, of release from this nightmare, which disappears as scarily fast as it had appeared. But right after the fresh wind, comes the horrible impaling pain, striking him right in the head. It splits open his skull as the bloody puddle under his body grows in mere seconds. Sombra wants to run, but the ocean of blood is slowing him down. He hears growling and roaring behind his back. Something is behind him. It approaches quickly, without hesitation. Sombra runs and runs, but what hope had he? He cannot escape it. Hopelessly, he falls down, refusing to accept death by the mysterious creature, and drowns himself in his own blood.

He wakes up in the middle of the field, completely surrounded by white fog. It's so thick that he can only see several meters far. The ground is harsh and covered with broken glass. It cuts and rips into his hooves, forcing him to quickly move in every direction - if he stays too long, the glass would go too deep into his feet.

In the distance he hears a voice, calling to him. He recognizes it – it's his mother, Willemite! He makes his way with haste, following the sound, and soon starts to notice a silhouette in the thick fog. It is certainly a pony, and Sombra believes it's her! He runs towards her, wants to scream, but something is stuck in his throat, and he's only able to run.

But the closer he gets the more unclear and vague it becomes. The glass cuts, but he doesn't care, crushing the shards with no regard for his own safety.

Suddenly, this shadow extends its hoof forward, and the fog disappears, revealing its inhabitant. Willemite, with her eyes wide open, but they are completely white, with neither color nor emotion. She looks pale, staring somewhere in the distance, with her hoof extended towards the horizon.

Her lips start to move slowly, her voice is filled with cold despair, sorrow and fear. These words make Sombra stop in his tracks and stare into her blank eyes.

"Save me," she whispers, and Sombra backs away slowly.

"Save me," she speaks, and Sombra turns around to start running.

"Save me!" she screams, as he runs as fast as he can, tears filling his eyes, endless guilt overwhelming him.

"Save me!" one last shriek reaches him, before the boy falls into endless abyss, where long, oozing tentacles are waiting to devour him.

***

"Ehem!" a loud cough startled Sombra and he sprung up in surprise, turning his head left and right, trying to realize where he was. Several seconds after, he sighed with relief.

He was in his classroom. The blackboard was over several desks in front of him, and a few bookshelves lined up by the walls, containing numerous handbooks on mathematics. The walls were white with the paint getting dim and dark in several corners because of the old age. The school wasn't well maintained, but it still held up.

Mr. Fizz, Sombra's teacher, looked at him with disdain as the boy turned his head towards the elderly crystal pony. He had a water blue coat and white mane. He also had a strange defect when speaking. He would hiss, or pronounce letters as sibilant consonants, when there clearly weren't such.

"I as-sh-sume you enjoyed your nap during the lesson?" he asked, and Sombra realized that he’d fallen asleep during the lesson. The only thing he remembered was how he’d put his head on his desk to let it rest for a second. It seemed he’d been unable to fight back the sleep. He turned away, still a bit terrified by his dream. Mr. Fizz sighed, and looked at the exhausted foal with a trace of sadness and sympathy in his eyes.

"Sorry... I... just—" Sombra started speaking, but words came out as unrecognizable blabber. He tried to speak up, tried to talk louder, but failed, as the clod in his throat got bigger and bigger. The clod of fear, terror, pain and hurt. Sombra really wanted to just get up and run away from the classroom, but he held back, preparing himself for a tirade of scorn and complaints.

"Lis-shen, Sombra. You're a nice boy, I can see that. Your only problem is that you need to get some sleep. S-sh-imple as that," Fizz said, sitting down on the chair right nearby Sombra. "You just fell asleep during class. That’s not the sign of bad manners — though, in some cases it is — but a case of a very exhausted pony."

"No... I just...uff..." Sombra said, feeling his limbs becoming heavy. He really felt horrible right now. His forehead was covered in cold sweat, and the clod in the throat seemed to be going up.

"Let's put it like t-sh-his: I'll stick up for you, and you rest tomorrow. Don't go to school, just sleep and rest. After that, you'll get much better, aight?" the teacher continued, and Sombra just nodded silently. He wanted to thank Mr. Fizz, but he’d left quickly, probably wanting to give him some breathing space.

Sombra sighed loudly and looked down onto the floor. Most kids would consider this a blessing. He would rather go to school than stay near his father. Anywhere but near him.

He swallowed, trying to push the clog away from his mouth and went to the cafeteria. His stomach had already started to bother him a bit, and a few sandwiches certainly wouldn’t hurt.

***

The cafeteria room was one of the most visited places in this school, outside of the principal's office. The wall paint of the room, a special layer of colored crystals that had all the colors of the ocean, had been scratched or even torn away in many places, making the lighting in the room not as stable as it should be. The light sometimes flickered, which often caused Sombra to feel horrible pain in his eyes. He always had to watch out for flickering and bright flashes, or else he had cringe in pain, as it felt like he had sharp razor plunged into his eyeballs.

He walked past the tables, towards the one he considered his personal. It was in a dim lit corner, away from other children. Iron Wheel didn't sit with him, in fact, he didn't visit cafeteria at all, claiming that he had a good breakfast and going somewhere afterwards. Sombra analyzed the babble Iron Wheel sometimes spilt, and came to the conclusion that he had himself a good place outside where he could construct the models for what he presumed to be the machines that would amaze the whole Empire.

He quickly put his bag on the table and looked inside, digging through books in search for money. He was sure he’d put it somewhere here, between the mathematics and geography stuff. After about a minute of vain search, he remembered that his father hadn't brought anything back from his recent run around the neighborhood. Wasted everything on ale, and returned home in half dead state. Sombra had to sleep with an open window in order to fight back the retching that tormented him through the whole night because of the atrocious smell.

He sat down on the bench and put his head on the table. He was so tired; his eyelids were closing on themselves, but he couldn't sleep, since the smell of food, even though a bit foul, made his stomach produce gastric juice, causing the sucking feeling in the throat. Sombra tried to suppress it, but the thoughts of freshly baked bread with butter were clouding his mind.

He used to eat so many sandwiches back when mom was alive. He could eat a dozen of them, and she would still give him more. After a good, nourishing lunch, they would always go for a walk, since food assimilates faster if he was outside, she’d told him.

Sombra missed her so much. He missed those days of fun and happiness with Willemite beside him, surrounded by ponies he loved. No worries, no pain, no hurt, no hunger. It’d had all been so peaceful, but now these moments were but memories he wept over.

The sudden pain in the stomach, like a sword thrusting through his organs, made him cringe, almost to the point of tears. He held back, and just pressed his head harder against the table, trying to drive away one pain with another, but it didn't help. He felt the muscles in his throat convulsing and contracting as they pushed something out of him. He covered his mouth and closed his eyes, trying not to breathe in the smell of food.

Finally, the retching stopped, but the stomach ache persisted as Sombra just rested his head on the table, trying to lose himself in good memories. But only the visions of that dreaded night came to him: the cold darkness seeping into his mouth, growing through his stomach, scratching his eyes with tiny claws.

Oh, how he wished it was all just a nightmare, just a bad dream; that the sharp teeth in his mouth were naught more than a pillow that he was chewing; that the horrible pain in his stomach was just Willemite, pushing him gently, asking him to wake up. He wished he would just open his eyes and see her smiling face looking at him, asking him to come to breakfast.

Hopes and memories were the only thing that wouldn’t hurt him. But they left so quickly, their life was shorter than that of a spark. It shed light on the world, tearing through darkness, but died just as quickly, leaving the void to devour the world once again. Since the day his dreams became haunted, he had never had a day when he wouldn't stop and think for a moment of what was, and of what was long gone.

The pain struck his insides once again, this time far stronger than last time. He gripped his belly trying to calm down the craving for simple food, but the pain was getting stronger and stronger. It was like a hedgehog, spinning and dancing inside of him.

"Are you alright?" a soft voice suddenly reached Sombra's ears. He slowly turned his head towards the side the voice was coming from and saw the speaker.

A young mare, a unicorn of Sombra's age, which differed greatly from anypony he'd ever seen in this school. She had long curly mane, the color of light amber, with a small pink ribbon that gathered this long cascade into a tress. Her coat was the color of lavender, which quickly caused a memory of one of his walks in the park. The dim lighting in this part of the hall made her look much less bright, but it was clear she would sparkle in direct sunlight in a barrage of beautiful colors.

Her complexity gave away a girl who didn't have a problem with food. She was quite round in the sides, but she wasn't fat; a right word would be well fed, which was clearly seen by the healthy color of her pretty face, which had very smooth lines and likeable appearance. The ripe red blush on her cheeks was more the result of warmth than shyness.

Her eyes were pale blue, and they were pinned right at Sombra. He finally managed to suppress the horrible pain and straighten up. Sitting curled up like that was rude.

"Oh, what?" Sombra said, forgetting what she’d talked about.

"I asked if you were alright. You just sat there, holding your belly, staring at the wall. Are you hurt?" she asked gently, coming closer to him. Sombra felt warmth coming from her body.

"I'm alright. I was just resting," Sombra lied, trying to sound cold, but the sucking feeling in throat made him stutter and lower his voice.

"Somehow I don’t believe you. If you feel bad you should go to the medical ward," she stated, looking at him with incomprehension. "Come on, I’ll get you there. Some treatment and you'll be right back up on your hooves!"

"No, I feel alright. No need to help me. Just leave," Sombra moved further away from her and closer to the wall. This girl was annoying. Why was she pestering him? For what reason? He'd never seen her before, and Iron Wheel never told him about her bullying him. She was either new or had been very inactive.

"Come on, don't be such a grump. I just wanted to help, that's all," she assured, taking a long and careful look at Sombra. "Oh, I know what's wrong. You're hungry!"

With those words, she quickly ran away, and before Sombra could sigh with relief, she returned, carrying a small box. She put it on the table, opened it and took out a few sandwiches with butter. Sombra's belly growled at the very second he set his eyes on the delicious food.

"Oh, I can see the hunger in your eyes. Here you go!" the young mare said, and placed the sandwiches before him. At first, Sombra wanted to refuse the gift, but the butter looked so delicious. It was slowly flowing onto the surface of the bread, with light showcasing its color in all its glory. The boy could no longer hold back and attacked the sandwiches like a wild demon, gobbling them up in seconds.

"Woah! You must be very hungry," the girl said, amazed at the ferocity Sombra torn her gifts apart.

"Thank you...so much!" Sombra said, chewing the delicious bread.

"Oh, you're quite welcome," she replied and smiled. Sombra was stunned for a second.

Her smile was just hypnotizing. She smiled in a very specific fashion: raising the edges of her mouth and looking right at you with care and softness in her pale blue eyes. This smile was warming as a fireplace, beautiful as a flower.

"Oh, I think I'll have to go! See you!" she said, and quickly run away, grabbing the box along with her. Sombra looked towards her. She left, just as he wanted, but that smile...

It was so strange, so pure and innocent. It got inside his memory and found itself a nice corner to live in. And the fact that this girl shared her food with him — just like that—, for no charge, just because she thought he felt bad. ‘Who was she,’ Sombra wondered, ‘What grade was she from? What was her name?’

Sombra noticed that he’d started caring too much about some random stranger. He shook his head, driving the useless thoughts away and just finished up eating. She just helped him, nothing more. Who knew, mayhap she did that because she’d lost a bet. He should really stop being so trusting. Last time he’d trusted a pony from outside his family, it’d ended in a tragedy. Sombra didn't want any more tragedies. He’d felt enough pain, enough for the rest of his life.

The cold breeze was blowing harshly as the storm was getting stronger and stronger. The peaceful fall of snowflakes turned into a powerful hail of snow, piling up on fur and hair in seconds. The kids quickly put on their coats, scarves, and hats, and ran towards their parents, greeting them in front of the school.

Iron Wheel put on a light brown cap and that was about all he had to wear. He seemed to be almost immune to cold, no matter what storm was outside, he always felt alright, and didn't feel the cold of the snow scratching his hooves. Sombra, however, was far less lucky.

Without anything to wear, he endured mostly on the heat his body produced, which wasn't much considering how little he’d eaten. He also had to go home all on his own, and that was probably a good thing. He wouldn't want his father to show up at his school in his state.

But today, Iron Wheel and Sombra walked alongside each other on par, with both of them seeming unaffected by the blizzard. Some kids and their parents turned around and looked at the two with confusion.

While passing through the school yard, they both were silent, fueled and warmed by their thoughts. Iron Wheel was probably drawing yet another construction in his head, imagining every little detail, every small line, and how it would look when it was complete: yet another brilliant invention.

Sombra, however, was completely drowning in questions, and every single one of them was about that girl. Who was she? Why did she approach him? Why did she speak to him? Why did she help him? What was her name?

"You seem to be even more depressed than usual," Iron Wheel stated, interrupting Sombra's train of thoughts. At first, he wanted to ignore his supposed friend, but decided to share this strange experience.

"No, it's just that... I've met a girl today. Well, not exactly met, she hath approached me herself," Sombra started speaking, when Iron Wheel interrupted him.

"Alright, stop. That's never a good sign. She is either a bully, or a spy from bullies. Which one?" he asked. Being the laughing stock of the school earned him a strange paranoia. He didn't trust anypony until he’d made sure they weren't bullies.

Sombra thought about it for a second. She wasn't a bully, that was for sure; she wouldn't help him if that was the case. Besides, bullies had never bothered him anyway. She might be a spy, but how could a despicable lying spy have a smile so pure and innocent as hers? Her look had gotten imprinted into Sombra's memory, but it’d been the smile that’d drawn his attention. It stuck, like a picture from stone cut by masters of old with great care and attention. It was simply marvelous.

"No, she's neither of these things. She is no bully..." Sombra said, and looked to the left, through the thick wall of falling snow. He could see so many ponies running towards their parents, and his soul let out a silent shriek each time he saw a mother in the crowd. Suddenly, a trembling outline, a shadow hiding behind the many colorful bodies of other ponies, caught Sombra's attention as it walked through this noisy gathering.

This figure reminded him of that girl so much.

Grappled by interest and curiosity, Sombra quickly pushed Iron Wheel towards the approximate location of the girl and dragged him along, trying to chase her down, or at least get a good look. The snow was deep and rough, sometimes leaving scratches on Sombra's unprotected hooves. Iron Wheel tried to fight, unaware of what was going on.

"What the Abyss? Where are you dragging me, pray tell? Let me go!" he demanded in an annoyed voice, greatly displeased that he was violently taken away from his thoughts of mechanisms.

"Keep quiet!" Sombra hissed quite angrily, which seemed to shut his friend up. They both followed the vague silhouette, tearing through the endless snow on the ground, and the one falling from the sky.

Suddenly, the girl stopped, probably to look around. When it seemed like she was about to turn around, Sombra quickly pushed Iron Wheel into the bush and jumped inside it right afterwards. The cold snow got stuck to his belly and chest, but he quickly swiped it all away and looked through the leafless sticks of the bush.

The girl looked very happy, enjoying every moment of the raging blizzard. The snow that struck her in the face didn't even faze her as she opened her mouth, letting all of it fly in and melt into water. Then she jumped right into a big bank of snow, not far from the bush the boys were hiding in. Sombra was able to make out what she was wearing.

Her fur coat looked incredibly expensive; it was probably imported from the Gryphon Dominion. It looked fuzzy, soft, and warm, making sure not even the strongest wind could tear through its thick layers. She was also wearing a light green scarf, like a leaf freshly torn from a tree. It was such a nice change from the palette of white and grey that dominated in this time of year.

"Here she is. Look!" Sombra whispered to his pal, and Iron Wheel lazily got up, swiped the snow that got stuck to his face because of his ungracious landing, and mumbled something under his breath. An angry glance from Sombra was enough to persuade him and take a look. He slowly made his way forward and looked over Sombra.

"Hmm, I have never seen her before. She must be new," Iron Wheel concluded. "Though, I did overhear some girls talking about a new student in their class."

"So, what did they say?" Sombra asked impatiently, trying to keep his voice down. Meanwhile, the girl started shoving her face right into the snow and swimming in it like one would in a pool. She was definitely having lots of pure childish fun despite being dressed so fancy.

"Hmm, can't recall. I think they said her name was Krystal," Iron Wheel replied. Sombra turned away from him and continued to stare at this strange mare, having fun with snow.

"Krystal..." he repeated quietly. This girl was so strange. So much questions about her and not enough answers. She was as unexplored for the young unicorn as the neighboring countries were for a bird in the cage. She was mysterious, and it attracted his attention like a fire attracting a firefly, following its path to impending death.

Sombra didn't know what to do about this now. He was mystified by this mare, it angered him. For so much time he had been able to avoid unneeded interest, and now, he sought some because of some mare.

He sighed heavily as Krystal was finally done with her childish game, got up, shook the snow away, and continued gracefully prancing her way home.

"Are we quite finished? May I go home now?" Iron Wheel said, looking angrily at Sombra, but he didn't even turn.

"Yes, go," Sombra dismissed him, and he left, without even saying goodbye. But the dark colored unicorn didn't even notice that. He was far too engulfed by thoughts and guesses. He tried to answer the questions he couldn't understand without any help whatsoever.

After about an hour of staring into the howling wind, carrying the snow around, he came to the conclusion that he should keep an eye on this mare. Whoever she was, she’d helped him, and that was very strange and suspicious. Sombra decided that she was up to no good. Nopony had ever approached him like that before, offered help without asking anything in return. Maybe she planned to stab him in the back, and was now trying to get closer to him just like Star Gem did.

Sombra drove away the memory of that atrocious villain, and looked around, checking if there was anypony near. After making sure he was alone, Sombra sighed heavily and looked into the darkening sky with sorrow, for it was time to go home.

There wasn’t any place worse than home.

***

The old wooden door let out a pitiful creak when Sombra gently pushed it. The hinges had gone rusty long ago, for nopony had oiled them for a long time. The young unicorn sighed and went inside the house after swiping away the snow that got stuck to him during his trip through the raging blizzard. He lost his way while looking for a correct path, and came much later than even he had expected.

The snowflakes fell from his mane and fur onto the floor and melted away within seconds, turning into small droplets of water. Sombra looked around the corridor. There were black stains on the rug, a few scratches on the walls, and a picture in the crooked frame.

It was the picture of Sombra's family. Nopony ever even moved it from the wall it had been hung upon. The paper started yellowing at the corners, the glass had been shattered long ago, and it was tilted to the left a bit. Sombra came closer and looked at the fallen symbol of perfection.

Just like his family, this picture was slowly dying. His mother was barely seen as her image was scratched and overwritten with black ink. The long dark trails were going down from the place where she once gloriously stood. Sombra had put so much work in this picture especially her... Now, it was naught but a piece of paper with something scratched on it, being an eyesore to both him and Amethyst.

Amethyst refused to keep such a reminder around and smashed the picture by throwing a cup of ink into it. He screamed about Willemite betraying them, calling her a whore, a sellout, a roadside slut. It hurt Sombra greatly since he knew the truth, but he was far too afraid of his father to tell. His tantrums and drunken rage fits caused Sombra to lock his door for the night.

The boy shuddered at a thought of spending the whole next day here, along with him.

Suddenly, the sound of a glass bottle falling down and shattering into hundreds of pieces reached Sombra, serving as a signal to run to his room as fast as he possibly could. He would close the door, hide in the bed and pray that his father wouldn’t break down the door. He quickly dashed towards his safe haven, but the sounds of hoofsteps, chaotic and random, reached his ears.

Sombra was just inches away from his room when suddenly something stood in his way and he crashed right into it. The floor greeted him with a few splinters, piercing his skin in several places.

"Watch where ya... goin’..." drawled Amethyst, reeling from side to side, his nose red from alcohol. The stench coming from him was unbearable. Sombra slowly got up, while trying not to look at him.

"Please, let me in," he pleaded quietly.

"What did y’say? I can't hear that bitchy voice o’ yours. Speak up! Are ya a stallion or what?!" Amethyst growled, his voice unstably changing tones, hurting Sombra's ears with its unbearable volume.

"I just want to pass," the boy said trying to raise his voice, but the sound, coming out of his mouth was just as weak as it’d been before. Amethyst spat to the side and turned his muddy eyes towards him.

"'Want t’ pass, 'please', bleh-bleh! You are such a failure!" he screamed and started circling around Sombra, like a vulture around a fresh corpse it was about to devour. Sombra looked down onto the floor, trying to hide from his sight.

"I wanted a son, not some spineless wretch. But, why am even I surprised? You’re a son of a cowardly whore!" he mumbled in his unstable voice as Sombra barely held back from just shoving him away and entering the room.

"Please... let me pass. I am tired, I want to sleep!" Sombra begged, but Amethyst looked at him with laughter born out of confusion in his eyes.

"Oh, he's tired! Tired because of what?! Ya don't do anything around here! You just eat and sleep in my house! You waste my money that I earn with sweat and blood, ya disgrace!" he spat as he spoke. Sombra swiped the drops away from his cheek, and sighed. He couldn't bear to hear so much lies from him. The only food he ever had was at school. He starved at night, and now, he had to listen to accusations and lies. But there was nothing he could do.

"I work from dawn till dusk to feed you, support you, try to turn you into a real stallion and you just leech away on me! You good for nothing runt, you don't even understand how I feel! What it is like to be a responsible pony, to work your damn croup off the whole day only to see your stupid face at home, with your mouth wide open, ready to gobble up another dish of food!" he mocked, standing so close to Sombra he could smell the vile concoction he’d drunk today. The boy couldn't take it anymore as everything inside him turned into pure emotion.

"You don't even go to work!" Sombra shouted, surprised by the power he’d put into these words. As his father looked at him, Sombra realized what a mistake he’d made, and closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. Tears of anger, tears of frustration and resentment for the false accusations aimed at his mother and him. But the worst was only waiting behind a corner.

Amethyst's hoof was heavy, packing a lot of a punch as he put all the strength he had into that angry smack. Sombra fell down on his knees, pain piercing his right cheek where the hit had landed. He felt the metallic taste of blood, touching his tongue, and several drops fell down onto the floor, leaving red trails on his lips. He tried to get up, but before he could even move, another powerful punch went straight into his jaw. He fell down, holding back the scream. The rough surface of the wooden floor scratched his cheek.

He opened his eyes, feeling the cold tears streaming down on their own accord. He could no longer hold anything back, but before he could say anything, Amethyst placed his hoof right upon his throat, pressing harder and harder every second, threatening to choke him.

"What did you say, whelp?! What did you say?!" he screamed loudly, right into Sombra's face, so he could hear him. The boy could only let out a few coughs. The blood started accumulating in his mouth as he couldn't do anything to spit it out or swallow it. The pain pierced his throat, making it even harder to breathe.

"P..khh...please...s...hkh...stop!" he barely managed to whisper through the blood in his mouth. Amethyst looked at him with drunken enjoyment and finally let him free. Sombra quickly turned around and spat out the blood, barely holding back from vomiting. The muscles in his throat continued to contract, allowing him only to cough and utter disgusting belching sounds. Amethyst turned away from the sight.

"Argh, disgusting! I ain’t gonna clean that up," Amethyst said with a twisted expression on his face.

Sombra couldn't even reply, as his stomach started pushing out whatever was within it, for the taste and the sight of blood made him too sick to contain anything inside right now. He covered his mouth with his hooves, trying to hold it all inside. The bile was crawling up his throat as though it was alive, sending spasms throughout his body . His face became sickly green, and his vision started to blur. He looked down, staring at the puddle of blood mixed with saliva wherein small crimson bubbles in some places swam.

"You… weakling!" Amethyst hiccupped between the two words, and slowly reeled back to the kitchen. He almost fell when going through the doors, but leaning on the wall helped him to hold his balance.

When his stomach finally calmed down, Sombra lowered his hooves. They were covered in blood; it continued to drip from his mouth. The salty taste was still present in his mouth, but he couldn't do anything about it, nor did he want to. He felt so small and pathetic to the whole world.

His body was convulsing, every single nerve was shaking and trembling, demanding him to do something, smash, crush, destroy something. The anger and frustration in his soul was too great for him to hold back, as he rushed to his room, quietly growling to himself. He left the mess behind him, too infuriated by his father to do anything he asked.

Barely holding back all the rage, demanding him to smash something open, he jumped onto the bed, bundled up in a thin blanket, barely protecting him from cold and buried his face in the pillow. It became a little wet from his tears and small drops of blood on his lips.

In his head, he processed all the memories he had concerning Amethyst: how he helped him when mother told him to get out, how they sometimes played in the park together. Not as often as with Willemite, but it had still been very fun. Amethyst knew so many fun games to play.

He wanted to sacrifice all these tender moments he had for a chance to cause him pain. Hit him in the face, break his bone, stab him with a knife, and twist the blade

"I hate you so much.... I hate you so much!" Sombra whispered quietly to himself, imagining so many ways he could harm his father, make him feel miserable and pathetic, just as he’d made him feel now. The child couldn't forgive all the pain, couldn't forget the suffering he endured during these two years. It was the first time Amethyst had beaten him up so badly. First time! All others were endurable, but this he could not forgive. Never.

Sombra continued to entertain himself with the pictures of his father's suffering and dying, as he slowly slipped into the land of dreams. This time, he didn't fight it back; too weak to do anything besides imagining Amethyst's demise.

Even though his thoughts were such a mess right now, he was absolutely sure of one thing: he'd not be staying home tomorrow. He’d go to school, and it wouldn’t even matter what happened to his health. Even if he died... that'd probably be for the best.

***

The wind slowly seeped through the crack in the wall and flew through the room, making the edges of the blanket shudder. Sombra shrank into a fetal position, trying to keep himself warm from the sudden breeze. He continuously moved his lips, as if saying something. The clotted blood on his lips made them feel rough, which caused him discomfort, making him turn around in his bed even more often. He was, probably, in the middle of another nightmare.

Meanwhile, the wind made its way through the room and towards the desk. It hadn’t changed that much at all. Several of the pencils were gone since Sombra had to use them for school; the pictures he drew were still hanging on the wall, a little bit yellow and faded from age. They fluttered gently in the breeze, the iron nails attaching them to the wall preventing them from flying away. However, there was only one picture lying on the table that was completely separated from all others.

The black and white bird was incomplete. It was still missing the upper body and the head. The tail, the body and the legs: it all had already been completed long ago. Judging from what was done, the bird would look pretty lifelike, especially bearing in mind that it’d been drawn by a child.

And yet, it would never be complete. Never. This bird, that once flew into Sombra's room and impressed him so much that he had to start drawing it, was long gone. It left the Crystal Empire, migrating to warmer regiments of the world. And on its wings, it had carried away many things Sombra valued and loved.

The bird would never return, it took the toll for its beauty in this house, from this pony, and now, it would take its last gift.

The wind picked up the drawing, as it slowly moved and fell from the table. The wind played with the piece of paper for a minute, making it dance and perform full twists, as it dragged it towards the window. The paper hit the rough surface, slowly sliding down to where the crack that appeared here from several hooligans throwing a rock just a few months ago was. When it finally reached its destination, the paper slipped through this crack and flew away into the raging blizzard that continued to rage upon the Empire.

Author's Note

Welcome to the arc two of the saga.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, and what do you think of the new characters, introduced here, also the theory about the languages! Let me know - I'm writing this for you, you know.

Land of Dreams

This was it, the beautiful day.

Sombra walked quickly through the park, making his way to Krystal's mansion. So weird. Not long ago, he had walked to a mansion to destroy it. Now, yet another mansion awaited his arrival, but for another reason — hopefully, a much more pleasant one.

The pouch filled with the much needed drug was dangling on his side, the strap painfully rubbing his skin. The strap of guilt, however, rubbed his soul even worse. He couldn't let go of the feeling that something would go wrong, that he should stop and throw the drug away, but he didn’t. He had already paid much money therefor and he was worried that he would let Krystal down.

Maybe she just invited him over to show him the interior and decorations. Maybe she had purely clear and innocent intentions and it was Sombra who was so perverted and corrupted by this life of freedom that he could think of nothing more than stealing the poor girl's innocence yet again.

She had informed him that her parents would be gone for a long time and that they would be all alone in there. Sombra felt torn inside, between the hope of it being just a friendly invitation, and the beastly desire for her.

The thought of entering Krystal's house for the first time terrified him a bit. He was afraid to see something weird, something out of the ordinary. Her house seemed like an unexplored cosmos, and he was a lonely traveller venturing whither nopony had gone before.

The bright spring day seemed to be shining with light that reflected on the crystals everywhere, yet another proof that Krystal had something serious on her mind. She told Sombra to come at this day; they’d skip school and their morning jogs. The unicorn loved the attitude of his maturing marefriend — she started to realize the pointlessness of these rules and was slipping from these shackles slowly and steadily.

Sombra inhaled, feeling the fresh air seeping into his lungs. Everything would be fine. Whatever Krystal had in mind, he wouldn't disappoint her. He, her champion, would always make her happy, no matter what.

Though, it wouldn't hurt to make sure. Or should he abstain from using the drug? He couldn't decide. The matter at hoof was far too important for him to fail at. He had to make the right decision.

Sombra weighed his options. Krystal obviously had to remain unaware of the fact that he’d used a drug. So, if she wanted what Sombra hoped she wanted, then he would be in a tight spot. If not, then, well, a boring tea party. He just couldn't make the final decision. Too much was at stake right now. Though, if he thought about it, he couldn't say exactly what.

Doubts, doubts, so many doubts — he couldn't stand it. Doubts lay in the past, he had to throw them away. No more doubts, only the strength of resolve and the undying love for his pony. And his resolve was telling him one thing.

"Now, or never!" Sombra told himself, pulling away from the set path as he looked for a quiet and secluded place. He found it in the form of the small field hidden behind bushes. This didn't look like a popular spot for picnics, so Sombra quickly took off the strap and placed it on the ground. As far as he knew, the drug would react properly if inhaled it, so he wrapped the bag filled with Dust with his magical aura and emptied it all over the strap.

The dust sparkled in the sun like snow would. Red, blue, green — the particles looked like they were each part of a different gem. Sombra wasn't aware that the sun could have such an effect on the dust. However, he hadn't bought it as decoration.

He carefully scrapped the Dust together, forming a line of roughly three centimetres. At one point, Sombra wondered if it would be enough. Mayhap the dealer had ripped him? He’d said it’d be all he had at the time. He calmed himself with the thought that he had never tried it before, so, how the Abyss should he know how much was needed? The dealer was the pro here, thus he had probably given him enough and even more, perhaps.

Sombra took a deep breath and leaned closer to the drug. His nostrils already felt kind of tickly, tempting him to sneeze, but this urge was quickly suppressed.

The particles of the drug tickled Sombra's nostrils as he inhaled. Just as he reached the end of the line, he leaned backwards in preparation to sneeze, but a sudden headache prevented it. The pain was so sudden that the unicorn gasped, grabbed his head and closed his eyes in an attempt to alleviate the pain. It came in sudden spasms, like thunderous strikes with a great hammer right onto his skull. His eyes started to water and his limbs became numb.

"Ah, shit!" Sombra couldn't hold back from swearing as the mind boggling pain filled his skull and hammered on his brain over and over until he fell to the ground.

Suddenly... he felt relief. The pain left, though the ground felt a bit shaky. Sombra got up, struggling, fighting against the unexpected weakness that had taken over his body and opened his eyes.

His breakfast started crawling up his stomach when he saw the disturbing picture. The world... had changed. It was not Crystal City, not anymore. The skies were crimson red, with black clouds crawling through this nightmare. The trees were curved and rotten, twisted and sick, as it seemed that some kind of fungus was growing on their surface like tumours. This strange excrescence looked like it’d be... flesh.

Sombra felt sick when he looked around. The ground was moving and shifting under his hooves, so soft and warm. It smelled of rot.

Loud groans and screams of agony and pain reached his ears.

Where am I? Am I dreaming? Is this a nightmare? It feels far too real to be a nightmare. The smells, the visuals — it is all far too real.

Sombra cast his gaze heavenwards, hoping against hope that the crimson sky would relieve the sickness. He wished he hadn’t.

In the sky, far away from the ground, a thing, which was difficult to describe in a mortal language without descending into insane ramble, was hanging. Enormous tentacles, each longer and wider than the city itself, were slowly spreading from the formless, disgusting main body, which consisted of hunks of rotting meat, blobs of goo and wide open eyes that stared onto the ground below. As Sombra examined the abomination, he saw that the monster had thousands upon thousands of mouths, each hiding billions of razor sharp teeth. The mouths were grinning as if expecting a feast soon. Long filthy tongues that dripped gore would sometimes escape these maws and swipe at the air, spilling disgusting liquid.

The main body of the monster was bigger than the moon itself and it seemed as if it was getting closer. Fear clenched Sombra's heart. He was no coward, but a sight such as this was enough to make him shiver. And yet, he could not stop staring at the formless eldritch horror.

"Heeeey... Sombraaa..." A soft, gentle whisper reached his ears. Fighting the strange fear that made him stare on the monster, he turned to the voice only to come face to face with a butterfly. It had blue wings, with green speckles in special places. It looked so fragile and beautiful, almost as if it was made of glass.

"Follow me," it whispered once again in the same voice as before.

"Who... are you? Where am I?" Sombra asked, but the strange butterfly didn't say anything and just started flying away. "Hey, wait!"

Sombra ran after it, his limbs finally ceding control back to him. There was nowhither else to go — he’d either follow the butterfly or stay to behold the monstrosity. He ran, the rotten and burnt sticks swiping at his face like claws. Sombra felt the roots of the corrupted trees trying to coil around his hooves to stop him, to choke him, but he still ran, ignoring the pain. The fear and the butterfly were giving him power.

The butterfly didn't slow down as it flew towards the light and Sombra tried to keep up. At last, the dark, deserted forest started to change to a more acceptable landscape. The trees changed to brighter colour, the ground became less soft but firmer instead. The smell of rot and death started to dissipate.

Sombra closed his eyes for a second, trying to gather his strength, and when he opened his eyes again, his surroundings had completely changed. The skies were not only bright and clear, they were sparkling with every colour. Blue, pink, violet, orange, green, red — the sky was like a picture of a chest full of different gems from a fairy tale book. The colours twisted, constantly changed, making the sky painful to look at.

Sombra reverted his gaze back to the ground and saw that he stood amidst some trees on a grassy field. They seemed to be made out of glass, each and every single one of them. Sombra tried to move and noticed that the grass was solidified liquid; the instant it touched Sombra's hoof, it splashed apart.

The world didn't make sense, but the explanation was waiting just up ahead. Hundreds and thousands of butterflies were gathering in one big cloud, the sound of their flapping wings filling the air. Sombra noticed something through the tiny gapes in this colorful defence.

"There, there, my darlings. No need to get so touchy," a familiar soft gentle voice reached Sombra's ears. "Tee-hee... no, stop! Stop!"

"What... Blanket?" Just as these words fell from Sombra's mouth, the barrier of butterflies flew away, only a few staying behind to please Blanket.

She was lying on her back, rocking left and right, giggling, as the pretty insects landed on her belly and wings, tickling her.

"Oh, whom did you lead to me, my darlings?" Blanket cooed, noticing Sombra. The butterflies flew away, leaving their mistress alone.

"None other than Sombra himself! How are you doing, my darling?" she playfully sang. "You look troubled."

"Of course I look troubled. First, Krystal invited me over and I'm on my way, and the second after, I'm in some kind of Abyss-like damnation with giant tentacle-demons and ground made of gore!" Sombra lost his temper, getting sick of constant headache and the nonsense he just saw. "Now, you're here! Will you now explain what the Emperor is going on?"

"Oh, oh, so angry. I like it when you're angry. It gives you that heat that I love to see in a stallion!" Blanket responded, coming closer. "You know that kind of heat when I touch your cheek and it burns my hoof like hot coal?"

"Cut it out, Blanket! Where am I and what the Abyss happened to me?" Sombra growled. Serveral butterflies around them shuddered as if hurt by his anger.

"And I thought you had grown up! No, no, my little, pretty foalie Sombra stays the same — silly and funny!" Blanket tittered tauntingly. "My pony, you're in my world now. Welcome to the Land of Dreams wherein many adventures await — sexual and not."

"Land of... Dreams?"

"Aye, love," Blanket cooed. "Did you come hither for me? To give your lonely, blooming Blanket a bit of stallion care?"

"Actually, I wasn't even going hither. I just... eh... suffer... narcolepsy," he lied. He couldn't tell his inner 'perfect mare' that he thought he had problems.

"Nu-hu-huh! Don't forget: you sleep with me. I know your secrets," Blanket spoke with reproach. "Love, you don't have any problems, you're just untrained. It's not every day you get to have sex while being drunk."

Sombra shook his head, trying not to think of things Blanket might become aware of. It was scary to imagine that somepony might know him better than he did.

"Do you have any grasp of the concept of privacy?"

"No, should I?" She blushed. "Or are you shy of me peeping on you?"

She stood at the tips of her hooves, pursed her lips and jumped a little, taunting Sombra like a little filly. "Do I make the mighty alpha stallion shy by peeping at what he does when nopony's looking?"

"Cut. That. Out!" Sombra groused. "How old are you?"

"I'm very young, as young as you want me to be. If, one day, you become perverted enough, I may take the form of a little, innocent filly, which just so happens to wander into the wrong part of town. And then you come and satisfy my hatching desire, even before it is born. How kind of you!" Blanket cooed as she approached Sombra and gently licked his cheek.

The frustrated unicorn pushed her away, getting sick of all of these games. He was somehow pulled into the Land of Dreams, and it seemed that Blanket was responsible therefor.

"Listen, Blanket, I didn't come hither for you. I need to get to Krystal as fast as possible. I'm afraid that whatever I have seen back there would try to hurt her," Sombra said coldly. "And if I can be pulled into this place, that means, she can be as well."

"Woo, sounds exciting. A big adventure: Krystal and Sombra versus the giant demon in the skies. How cool!" Blanket mused. "I'd certainly read such a novel. Does it have sex scenes?"

"Blanket!" Sombra shouted. "I need your damn help and you keep taunting me! I have to admit: my mind is sick if it came up with you!"

"Ho-ho-ho! Alright, lovercolt, I'll help you. To leave this world, you need to reach the Queen of Butterflies," Blanket said, sitting down on the grass. "But... you better take this."

She raised her hoof and a small butterfly flew out and started circling around the stallion.

"It's dangerous to go alone."

"Ha-ha, funny," Sombra grumbled. "Will this butterfly lead me to the Queen?"

"Yes. Just follow her. And remember: if you are tired or just want some caresses, you may always come back to me."

"Don't count on it," Sombra replied and started following the butterfly as it led him further.

"Oh, my, you can be so boring at times," Blanket cried out after him as he ran. "Now, if you excuse me, I want to have my whiskey on the moon, if you don't mind!"

She flapped her fluffy wings, shattering the liquid grass, and took off into the skies. The clouds, made of cotton candy and sugar lumps, obscured the view for her, so she simply made them rain hot chocolate with a simple magical spell. After dodging a few more sugary clouds, she reached the moon. Its cheesy surface was soft and quite hot, surprisingly. Blanket quickly made herself comfortable on the surface of the moon, materialized a bottle of whiskey near herself and opened it. The sound of the bottle popping out the bung made several clouds near her shatter into dust and fall down on the ground in a sugary rain.

"Run, run, Sombra. I hope you find your way to your heartache... Ah," Blanket said, pouring whiskey into a rainbow coloured glass that had literally grown out of the moon’s cheesy surface. "Typical stallion, just one night and he needs me no longer."

***

The butterfly flew swiftly, without stop, without break. It swung its fragile wings, putting them in danger of being shattered by the wind, but it still flew ahead. Sombra tried to keep up, boosting himself with encouraging thoughts and occasional pushes with magic. He had to reach this mysterious Queen of Butterflies, whoever she was.

It seemed so strange. He was perfectly okay just half an hour ago, and now, he was running through fields of liquid grass, following a butterfly made out of glass. Was that Dust the portal to the other world? He didn't know. He was far too concerned about Krystal's well-being. He was scared that she might get hurt in this world.

"Sweet Emperor, watch where you're going!" The pony angrily growled at Sombra as he rudely pushed her away. She wanted to give the brat a hateful glance, but the second she managed to look into his eyes, everything was clear.

The white of Sombra's eye was completely red with blood and his pupils seemed sparkly and muddy, like colourful puddles surrounded by crimson ground. His horn was constantly sparkling and flickering with energy, letting out small lightning bolts that would leave small marks on whatever they hit. One of these struck the pony on the flank, leaving a small part of scorched coat, which she immediately swiped off.

"Stoned dipshit!" she screamed at Sombra as he continued running into an unknown direction. A stallion looked at her with surprise while she got up and pointed towards Sombra.

"Stoned dipshit," she repeated in a calmer tone, dusting herself off before proudly walked away.

"Yes, I see. Disgusting," the stallion replied in a cold voice, prompting a nod from the mare.

Finally, Sombra reached the entrance to the Queen's castle. The gates were made of diamonds, into which the funny, winking faces were constantly smiling and laughing at everything around them like trapped reflections.

"Alright, I'm here... Now, how do I open this thing?" Sombra asked himself a question and immediately got an answer. Something soft and soothing touched his backside, which turned out to be Blanket's mane.

"Easy. I'll open it for you. I'm the master of unlocking, you see," she cooed, slowly rubbing her head against Sombra's rear.

"Blanket... stop that. Please," Sombra asked coldly and an offended Blanket carelessly trotted away from him towards the door.

"Ha!" She harrumphed and approached the door, her horn glowing brightly. The door started shaking before it cracked and fell apart. Suddenly, the magical essence on Blanket's horn dissipated and everything stopped.

"You know... have you ever thought about this: do you even need Krystal?" she mused playfully. "There are many other good mares out there. Why do you have to be so sticky to this one?"

"What?" Sombra deadpanned; he could practically feel his anger rising at the apparition.

"I mean, why her? She's not even that pretty," Blanket continued. Her words were like needles that were being thrust into his soul. "Why have only one when you could have all?"

"Shut. Your. Mouth!” Sombra whispered hatefully. "I know you're just a fragment of my imagination, so, consider yourself lucky. Otherwise, I would have just crushed you into a puddle for saying something like that."

He approached the door, trying to buck it open.

"She's my destiny, my fate. She's the only pony who actually needs me."

Those words provoked... laughter from Blanket.

"Really? You really think you're such a saint? So, you sniffed a pile of drug because of her," Blanket's words shook Sombra to the core and he stopped.

"Y-yes," he replied unsurely.

"Clarify, please. You did it for her, or to satisfy your bestial desire?" Blanket questioned. "You see, I do not think that Krystal really needs you to be addicted."

"I-I... Damn you!" Sombra snapped, kicking the door so hard it finally turned into diamond dust.

Even Blanket was scared by his loud shout, standing quietly near him, looking quite pale. Sombra sighed heavily and lowered his head.

"No more lectures, Blanket. I don't want to be lectured by my sexual fantasy," he growled. "Just get me to the Queen."

"Oh, yes... I see," Blanket replied, looking melancholy for a split second. Then, she reverted back to her sultry smile.

"Well, maybe you at least consider the possibility of a 'trio'?" She asked, prompting a questioning gaze from Sombra. "Ménage a trois?"

"What's that?"

"A threesome,” Blanket looked quite bored while saying that as if she was explaining something simple. "You know, you, I and Krystal get together for one big, fun night?"

Sombra stared into the ground for a second. His eyes suddenly widened and he backed away.

"No, no. I think I'll... pass."

"Aw. Seems, you're still a little too young. That's sad. We would make such a fine company. Just imagine: I'm on top, she's beneath, and you're in the middle."

"I'll go now. Bye!" Sombra said and quickly followed the flickering pavement towards a big mansion wherein the Queen resided.

Blanket smiled. Of course he liked the idea. He just couldn't put two and two together and figure out how that would work out. Poor boy! Well, he'd have plenty of ménage a trois in his time, Blanket was sure of that. Though, how he’d treat his marefriend worried her greatly.

For the first time, Blanket was worried about a pony she had never met and would never meet at all, unlike her creator.

He will find his way, no doubt.

Wild ponies don't wear jewelry

Author's Note

Sorry for taking so long to update. My school is being a real pain in the ass, and I don't have nearly as much free time as I used to. Still, I'm trying my hardest to keep them coming. Please, bear with me.

Wild ponies don't wear jewelry

“Ortho, tell me the first virtue of the Imperial soldier,” an aged, bulky crystal pony, dressed in thick leather armor, sighed, looking at the huge mess in the middle of the camp.

“Discipline and obedience, father,” a skinnier colt replied, sitting down on the ground, his forelegs crossed in front of him. His greenish coat was barely hidden behind a dark, furry cloak, which barely protected him from the biting cold. The ends of his sky blue mane were tied together, forming a short braid, made more for the freedom of movement that for the purpose of beauty. “I had to leave for a moment!”

“Hush, Orthoclase. These kinds of excuse won’t save you from the officer’s whip,” the bulky pony said, swiping the snow off of his son’s cloak. “Or, to be more exact, my whip.”

Orthoclase sighed, closing his magenta eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath. Yet again, his father was disappointed. He hated this feeling of being an absolute failure, and yet his constant screw-ups reminded him again and again that he would never become a real soldier.

“You’re drawing near the age of conscription, Orthoclase. When you’re in the army, I won’t be able to cover you up all the time. You need to learn to take care of yourself.” Father’s tirade was overdone, and yet it worked, worked every time.

Orthoclase was jealous of his father. Any colt would be – he was a respected officer, commander of the whole unit of Imperial border guards. He was strong, brave and harsh, just like a real soldier. When Ortho was a foal, he used to steal dye from mother’s drawer, and, in desperate attempts to make himself look a little bit like his father, dye his body in dark yellow and his mane in fiery red.

“I know, Mr. Rubin. I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking down into the ground, just like two years ago, when his father caught him smoking. Rubin smiled and patted his son on the shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’re still learning. Now, help me clean this mess up. Dumb animals can’t help shoving their noses where they don’t belong.” The two started gathering different tools, scattered across the ground. Countless of different tracks were covering the ground here and there, each belonging to a different animal.

“Hey, look over here!” Rubin exclaimed, pointing at the deep hole in the snow. “It’s a boar. A big one, too. Let’s follow it!”

Rubin smiled and grabbed his trusty crystal rifle. Orthoclase had always been fascinated by these instruments of war. Made of the crystals found in the depths of the earth, these guns were possessed only by the Crystal Empire, which advanced its warfare beyond the whole world. A long, sleek surface was hiding immense power inside, and once released by pulling a shutter at its edge, it would spit out a blast of energy that was enough to blow a rabbit into bloody chunks.

Orthoclase got to fire his dad’s rifle only once, and when he did, he had to gather the pieces of the rabbit from all over the room. Thankfully, it was only a doll, but Rubin said that Orthoclase would encounter real gore in the near future, and that he should be prepared. Mother was greatly displeased, but dared not speak up against father: the traditions were strict – the stallion, as the sole protector of his family, had to be obeyed regardless of circumstances.

As he and father were slowly crawling through the snow, Orthoclase thought of the responsibility his father was always talking about: of a protector, of a warrior. The very sound of these words made him shudder: they sounded too heavy, too powerful for him. He much preferred the short and sweet ‘fun’, that his friends were obsessed with.

“Eyes on the prey, Ortho!” his father grumbled, breaking Orthoclase’s dream of dragging a mare into his bedroom for pure joyful ‘fun’, and pointed in the direction the tracks were leading. “I’ll scout ahead. Stay here, and signal if you see anything suspicious.”

Rubin left with haste, leaving Orthoclase behind. The young stallion stopped in his tracks and watched his father disappear in the white gust. He looked around, found a relatively windless place, protected by trees and hid himself there.

If only he could become a real soldier without having to be responsible. He would make his father proud and have a lot of fun. That was a perfect solution, a win-win. Why Rubin had to be obsessed with responsibility was beyond his understanding.

Orthoclase felt lonely, standing in the middle of the forest with nothing to do. He liked it better when he had a camp to watch over, but now there was no other choice than just stand in the snow and wait till father had returned with the prey. Mayhap they would manage to sell it to the traders: meat was useless to them anyway. But money, on the other hoof, would always be useful: a loaf of bread in this season was a rarity.

Orthoclase bit his lip, thinking about the life on the Earthville border. Being the richest and most prominent traders in the whole world and the best agriculturists in the entire world, they probably had more than enough food not just for survival, but for trade and even fairs. And here, on the border with the Pegasi Republic, crystal ponies oft had less than enough food to sustain a village. And a town such as Granitza needed a lot of food to survive.

“Well, at least my family prospers, for now,” Orthoclase figured, watching the snowflakes dance in the wind. They reminded him of tiny wisps that were so plentiful at night during summer. A nice little shard of that peaceful time to keep him refreshed through this winter.

Orthoclase gulped once he heard the rustling and his brain started figuring out the possibilities of who that could be. His father? No, he would have called Orthoclase out. An animal? Most likely. But what if it was another pony?

Orthoclase carefully turned around and faced the direction whence the sound was coming, behind a thick dead bush. Its prickly thorns looked menacing, guarding the way to the source of the sound. Orthoclase gulped and approached the bush.

Maybe he should wait for father? What if it was some beast that would attack him? He couldn’t defend himself, he was unarmed. Maybe he should just ignore it; it could be his mind, playing tricks on him.

“Who are you?” Orthoclase mumbled nervously. His voice barely disturbed the snow hanging on the dead branches, therefore, as expected, there was no answer beyond more rustling.

The rustling was getting closer and closer. He wasn’t scared easily: his friends would need a dragon to scare him, but the unknown was simply terrifying. He simply could not comprehend what would approach him. It couldn’t be an animal, it just couldn’t.

They never got this bold, not around here! Animals were always scared of ponies, and fled at the first sight of them. So, whatever was making that sound probably was no animal.

Finally, the rustling stopped, and Orthoclase thought he would get to relax now, but then the momentary silence was broken by a loud thump. Orthoclase jerked a bit, startled by the sound.

That definitely did not sound like an animal, more like a very big bag falling over.

The curiosity overpowered his fear and Orthoclase, taking a deep breath of frozen air, stepped forward into the bush. The thorns scratched his skin, but it was numb anyway. Orthoclase tore through the dead bush and entered a small, snowy field. A field like any other, except what it had lying in the centre of it.

His blood turned colder than the snow itself and he carefully backed away, shivering. Orthoclase closed his eyes, gathered all his might and finally managed to fight back fear’s claws and screamed: “Father!”

The scream rocketed through the forest, and Rubin heard his son’s cry for help. He immediately forgot about his prey and dashed to the source of the sound. His soldier instincts kicked in, he ground his teeth and grabbed his rifle by its middle with his teeth.

He jumped over a small log obstructing his way and landed on the opposite of where his son was standing. He gazed at his son questioningly and Orthoclase quickly pointed at the sight that scared him so much.

Rubin had seen a lot of horrible things, but this sight still managed to shock him. A crystal unicorn, a stallion, was lying in the snow motionlessly.

“Is...is he dead?” Orthoclase asked when Rubin approached the pony on the ground. Rubin checked the pony’s pulse; it was weak, but at least it was there.

“No, he’s still alive. Come on, Ortho, help me get him to safety!”

The dried blood on stallion’s sides, stomach and neck made Rubin shudder: what had this young pony been through? He looked eighteen years old, just a little older than Orthoclase, but the many scars, several of them looking quite fresh, on his legs and sides revealed a pony with a harsh life.

Rubin noticed a golden pendant on the stallion’s neck. It sparkled in the light, and looked relatively clean. Maybe it could answer his questions, tell the story of this pony. Maybe, but it was of no importance right now: they needed to get him to safety before he would freeze to death.

“I’ll carry him, you take my rifle,” Rubin commanded. It was a long way to their house; they should hurry up. There was no telling how much time this stallion had spent in the snow and how long he would have before the frostbites got severe to the point he’d lose limbs.

***

Screeching voices, loud rustling, then silence.

Loud voices, endless pain, then silence again.

The wicked circle of pain and peace was a circle of torture, as Sombra climbed out of the grave, but fell down once he thought he had almost reached the exit. All he remembered that he was walking through the forest, and now he was here… in nowhere.

Blackness. Endless fields of black were stretching out to the horizon, blending into a dark void. If this was the other life, the world where the dead were treading, it certainly seemed far too empty.

Light. Dark. Light. Dark. Endless flashing. Sombra wanted to gouge his eyes out, tear his eyeballs out of his eye-sockets, but to just make the flashing stop. His heart was beating… slowly… lazily, like it forced to make every single thump.

Sombra didn’t want to stay in this place. It scared him. Every fibre of his being was revolted by this canvas. He didn’t want to be part of it. So he opened his mouth and breathed in.

All was gone in a flash. The canvas, the void — it all disappeared and he was greeted by the warm, welcoming flame of an oil lamp. Sombra struggled to open his eyes, feeling trapped in his own body. When the haze dispersed, he felt somewhat relieved to feel his heart beating, to feel the usual pain in his legs. What he wasn’t glad to feel was the strange numbness in his right foreleg.

His mind still foggy, he tried moving his eyeballs around as the weariness was still chaining him. His location… had surprised him.

He was in a bedroom, a big comfortable bedroom with at least two oil lamps hanging underneath the wooden ceiling. There were several windows on the left wall, a white layer completely covering what was going on outside, and several bookshelves to the right, most of which were empty.

How did he get here? The last thing he remembered was the forest, the endless forest and the snow as his only bed.

“Mom! He’s waking up!” he heard an unfamiliar voice. Two ponies entered his line of sight: one was a teenage colt; the second was an adult mare.

“Oh, good! I thought he wasn’t going to make it. Orthoclase, bring something to eat, quick! He’s probably hungry.” The mare swiped her short green curls out of her face and approached Sombra, looking straight into his eyes. The colt ran away on her command, while the mare continued to inspect him. She carefully reached out for his face, afraid to touch him, to disturb him.

“H- hello.” Her voice was so quiet, so scared. Sombra thought for a moment and figured out that he probably looked terrible. “Hello? Can you… hear me?”

Sombra kept quiet.

He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to see any new faces at all. The mare asked him whether he could hear once more, and, just to make her leave him alone, he carefully, fighting through numbness, turned his head to the left.

Appearantly, the mare took it as a reaction to her words and asked a question that was much more relevant.

“Can you… understand me?”

Sombra didn’t move a muscle. He saw no point in doing so. He would die anyway, why worry others about his untimely demise? The mare sighed heavily, probably thinking about what she had gotten herself into. Or maybe she was worried about him. Judging by her saddened eyes and weary face, she had been worrying a lot.

Soon, the young one, Orthoclase, returned, balancing a tray with steaming cups of tea and a small slice of bread on his left foreleg. The mare took the tray and put it on the nearby drawer.

“He doesn’t talk,” she stated, letting out another sigh. Orthoclase looked at her, and then at Sombra. This pony looked just a bit younger, and yet, there was so much hidden beneath his eyes. So many feelings, so much hope. He looked even dumber than Iron Wheel.

Sombra blinked, the only reaction he could manage to drive away the memories of Iron Wheel and anything that was connecting him to Crystal City. He spent the last three weeks trying to forget, wandering aimlessly into the wilderness without stop, trying to find his own doom… and yet now he was lying, stared at by some idiot full of hope and his mother. At least Sombra guessed that she was his mother.

“I don’t know whether he’s too weak to talk, whether he doesn’t understand our language or… simply cannot talk.” The mare’s speech was interrupted by a long yawn.

“Have you tried asking him in Common, mom?” Orthoclase approached the mare. Sombra’s guess was correct.

“No… Wait, let me try…” She took a brief moment and then started muttering something in Common, with an accent so horrible Sombra could barely make out the word ‘who’, and several other ones. Judging by her pronunciation, or rather, the lack of it, he could judge that he had distanced himself quite far from the capital. Everywhere but in the capital, the other languages, except the native Crystallian, were taught quite poorly. He cringed.

“Strange… He didn’t seem to have liked my speech. Maybe I was saying something wrong?” ‘Mom’ hummed.

“Or maybe he just doesn’t like how Common sounds.” Orthoclase picked up the cup of tea and slowly hoofed it to his mother. “Be careful — it’s quite hot.”

“I know, I know!” she replied in somewhat irritated voice and slowly moved the cup to Sombra’s lips.

“Come on, drink! Gulp-gulp!” She tried to imitate the sound of drinking, probably counting Sombra as some kind of idiot, but he didn’t protest. When she moved the cup close enough, he reached for its edge with his lips.

He drank greedily, unafraid to burn his mouth. It had been so long since he had tasted tea. He was so tired of drinking water from the small rivers that even the most horrible tea would feel like nectar.

“Well, at least he’s conscious again.” ‘Mother’ exclaimed, grabbing a slice of bread and putting it in Sombra’s mouth, which he then proceeded to chew on hungrily. “Tell Rubin that he’s awake.”

Orthoclase ran away again and Sombra was left alone with his mother. He managed to get a good look at her while she took a moment to relax and close her eyes: her weary face with bags under her eyes still radiated comfort. Sombra didn’t know why, but he felt a little relaxed when looking at the face of this tired, worn out mare.

Though, it was nothing but a drop of honey into a giant pool of acid.

The mother blinked a few more times, trying to chase away the sleep and looked at Sombra. “So young… What were you doing so far away in the wilderness?” she asked herself, mostly, as she figured Sombra wasn’t going to reply.

The sound of hoofsteps reached Sombra’s ears and he struggled to turn his head to its source. He was greeted with a sight of ‘Rubin’, who was probably the father of this little family.

“So, who is he?” Rubin looked at his wife and she just shrugged in reply.

“He doesn’t speak… I doubt he even can. Maybe he’s wild, who knows.”

“Is he, now? Wild ponies do not wear jewellery,” he exclaimed, and Sombra felt his heart race faster, pumping him with warmth and energy. He slowly sneaked his left foreleg across his body to his neck and rubbed a little, desperately hoping to feel the only thing dear to him, the pendant. It was gone.

Sombra pierced Rubin with his eyes, trying to express something related to a scowl, but all he could was wink at the grown up stallion. However, that was enough to attract his attention.

“Huh, what are you looking at?” he mumbled, looking back at Sombra. Rubin raised an eyebrow.

“Strange eyes… I can’t remember… where have I seen them before?” He hummed. “I think I saw other ponies with eyes like his.”

“So what? His eyes are red, big deal. Just some in-birth anomaly, that’s all.” His wife seemed to be irritated with Rubin’s suspiciousness.

Sombra kept staring at Rubin, hoping he would either react to his glances, or his body would allow him to pounce from the bed and onto him, nail him to the ground and growl ‘Where is my pendant?’

Did Sombra have the guts to kill him afterwards? Maybe kill his whole family? He doubted it. Even after killing his own father, he couldn’t think of harming a pony.

He killed Amethyst in a fit of rage. He had been provoked. It wasn’t his mistake, not his fault, not his responsibility!

He just wanted his pendant, and then he would leave.

Rubin finally noticed Sombra’s desperate attempts to get his attention and gazed right into his crimson eyes. How many times did Sombra strike his reflection in the fresh water of a creek or a pond? He couldn’t remember. He just hoped Rubin wouldn’t do the same to him now.

Rubin quickly took out the pendant and took a long, careful look at it. Sombra’s heart shrank as every fibre of his being was vibrating with anger when Rubin opened the pendant: it seemed as if he tore Sombra’s chest open and was looking at his exposed, still beating heart.

“Now, I’m totally lost,” Rubin stated, looking at the picture in the pendant.

“What’s in there?” his wife asked.

“Him.”

Silence took dominance in the room for a few seconds, and then, Rubin sighed heavily.

“I guess it’s his.” He put the pendant on the drawer by Sombra’s bed. The instant he moved his hoof away, Sombra quickly reached out for it from under the blanket. The loud thump echoed in his ears for a second, but once he made sure his grip was tight enough, he slowly dragged it towards himself, scratching the wooden surface of the drawer.

The whole family was staring in surprise at his sudden outburst of movement. Orthoclase backed away slowly, shivering a little at the sight of this possibly wild pony.

Finally, the pendant was safe, lying on his chest. Relieved to feel the rough gold on his skin, he managed to put up a weak smile and put both his hooves on the adornment, to keep his only memory safe from the world around him.

“Let’s talk in the kitchen, dear,” Rubin said, his voice stiff and calm, as if nothing had just happened. Then, in silence, he left the room.

“Please, Ortho, look after him while I’m gone,” the mare said and followed her husband. Orthoclase nodded nervously and then reverted his sight back to Sombra.

“O-okay, mom.”

Sombra closed his eyes and kept quiet. Once he’d gotten better, he would run away. There was no need to stay here.

“This doesn’t make sense!” Rubin exclaimed, having just entered the kitchen. “Why would he have a picture of himself in that pendant? Who is he? Where’s he from?”

His wife, Zlata, ignored his questions and poured herself a cup of tea. “We’ll figure it out eventually, dear. Don’t worry about…. it.” She interrupted herself again to yawn and rub her eyes, before taking a sip of the hot drink.

“I’m not worried about it, Zlata. I’m just confused.” His retort was weak and he knew it, so he didn’t stop to make a pause. “It just doesn’t make sense. If he’s wild, then why would he have a pendant with his own portrait inside?”

“Look… we can figure this out once he gets better. We’ll just ask him once he’s able to talk.”

“And what if he’s not able? What if he’s… ugh, I don’t know, a mute? It’s not a rarity… at least not anymore.” Rubin frowned, pouring himself a cup of tea from the round-bellied samovar on the table. “The longer I live here, the more mute, deaf and blind ponies I find.”

“Teens will do anything to avoid conscription,” Zlata sipped her tea and licked her lips. “Could use some more sugar…”

Rubin kept silent while his wife trotted away to get a sugar bowl. Sugar wasn’t really an every day occurrence in the daily lives of Imperials.

“Don’t take too much,” he reminded his wife, who scowled in reply.

“I know, I know!” She was more upset that usual. Maybe this deal with that wild pony put her off so much. Or maybe she was just getting tired.

After having one or two smidges of sugar fall into her tea, Zlata grabbed a small spoon with her teeth and started stirring the drink. The annoying clacking sound the cup made when she accidently hit its side with the spoon made Rubin wish he’d gone for a bit of sugar as well.

“How long are you planning to keep him here?” Zlata approached the table and sat down, setting her cup down. After taking a good sniff, she took a sip from her cup, before drinking deeply, apparently satisfied with the taste.

“What? You want me to throw him out?” her husband asked. Zlata sighed heavily, before taking a short moment to rub her eyes.

“That’s not what I meant! I just… I just want to know for how long you were going to keep him here.” Her voice sounded tired and exhausted, despite the furious notes she tried to put into it. “I want to know your opinion, that’s all.”

“I plan to let him stay until he gets better, then we can judge by the situation. Does that sound good enough for you?”

“Yes.” Another sip of the sugared tea to make Zlata feel better. “Yes, it does.” She looked into the liquid, trying to find her reflection.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll see you later, dear.” Rubin finished his tea, approached Zlata and gave her a light peck on the cheek, before leaving.

Zlata swiped the tiny drop of Rubin’s saliva off her fur and continued to patiently sip on her tea. These were the short moments of this long day she could dedicate only to herself.

The samovar kept on humming and puffing, until Zlata covered it with a towel to keep it quiet. After finishing her drink, she took a second to yawn, and then headed upstairs. She wondered how long they should keep their patient in bed, what medicine they should apply, and if they have enough bread in store to keep them all fed.