From the Shadows

The trio of mares suddenly halted mid-sprint in the town square. Twilight's head snapped back and forth, seeing the intersecting trails of crystals amidst the square, finally all visible, now that she had chosen to look.

"Alright," began Twilight as she turned around to face her two friends in the dark streets, Dash's face still damp from fearful tears, "I think Sombra's leading us in circles. That's probably why we've been having such a hard time trailing him."

"You mean he knows we're following him?" asked Rarity, raising an eyebrow as she stomached the thought, "Should we even be following his trail? I mean, he could be leading us right into a trap or worse."

"Which is why we're splitting up."

"What?!" yelled Rainbow Dash, hovering up to Twilight's snout, "The elements of harmony only work if they're united. We need to stick together!"

"No Rainbow!" yelled Twilight back, louder than the Pegasus had countered her seconds before.

Her tone was confrontational, completely unlike her, and Rainbow Dash felt herself, on a very rare occasion, backing down.

"Celestia needs us to bring him in without expelling him from Equestria! It's the whole reason she brought him here in the first place; we'd waste everything if we used the elements on him!"

"Now," she continued, beginning to pace back and forth, "he seems to be targeting us, the elements of harmony; I don't know why, but he's only shown up at our houses, and I think he's hit us three so far. Which means that Pinkie, Applejack and Fluttershy are in danger. One of them is next, and we can't let Sombra get to them; I know he's up to something, and we have something to do with it, so we need to stop him before he can do whatever he's planning."

"So, we're going to split up," she ordered, "Who lives farthest from here?"

"Fluttershy," answered Rarity.

"And who's closest?"

"Pinkie," answered Rarity again after a moment's hesitation.

"Ok, Rainbow, you're going to Fluttershy's; you can get there faster than the rest of us. Rarity, you're going to Pinkie's. I'll get Applejack. chasing him down is no good, so we need to get everypony up and about; if nothing else, maybe the elements of harmony will deter him, so after we get everypony together, meet in the library; from there, we'll start on hunting Sombra down."

The princess was much more direct, much more assertive than her previous self. Perhaps it was that she was finally embracing her new regal titles; perhaps it was something else, but it didn't matter, and her authority was recognized as her companions darted in opposite directions to retrieve their absent friends.

Twilight watched them go, then turned, and ran as fast as she could, pumping with her wings, still too freshly adorned to be much use in rapid flight, to gain speed. Her hooves pounded against the cobblestone roads, and she slowly gained ground towards Sweet Apple Acres.

****************

"Hey?" called Applejack, expecting an answer and an explanation as she called into the unfamiliar darkness all around her.

"Hello!" she yelled a second time, and the sound of hoof steps began to approach her from somewhere in the distance, echoing throughout the formless void and reverberating in the air all around her, growing louder and more ominous with each passing moment.

"Who's there?"

A paced, slow, foreign voice answered.

"A friend," it serenaded, its owner still concealed in the shadows.

"Come out so I can see you."

"It would be better if you came to me," came the response.

"What's the matter?" she taunted, "Afraid o' the light?"

"Are you afraid of the dark?" countered the voice; deep, oddly familiar yet exotic, but the speaker remained hidden behind a veil of darkness and uncertainty.

Applejack recoiled a bit, but then retook her stance; she was not about to back down to an invisible presence.

"Come to me," beckoned the voice, "I have something you need to see."

"Why should I trust you?" she asked, hesitantly approaching the end of the light's influence.

"Like I said," replied the voice articulately, "I'm a friend."

"What are you thinkin' on showin' me, friend?" the mare asked as she reached the wall of darkness, nothing visible before her; the light simply ended, and the darkness held everything unknown in its embrace, including her supposed 'friend'.

"The answer," came the simple response.

"The answer to what?"

"Do you wish to end the greatest doubt of your life, or do you choose to stay within the realm of comfort? You can come, or you can stay, but decide," iterated the voice, inches in front of her, but hidden regardless behind the dark veil of secrecy.

Applejack looked around quickly; she was alone. It was just her and her concealed companion. She closed her eyes, sighed once as she realized that, perhaps, the biggest question of her life was just beyond her sight. She wasn't about to let the opportunity for truth to come forth pass her by.

She filled her lungs with cold, heavy air, and stepped out of the light.

Walking forward, the world simply disappeared in the blackness, save for sound, and her hoof falls resounded throughout the nothingness around her.

"Where are you?" she asked aloud.

"Just follow my voice," came the reply.

"This better be worth it," she challenged.

"I promise you, the answer is to the question that haunts you more than anything else in this world. If you wish to be rid of its presence, don't lose heart."

Applejack grew a bit concerned as she penetrated deeper into the darkness, when the faint glow a distant light reached her eye. Her steady walk evolved into a hurried canter, and the sound of her resounding hoof beats bounced through the air.

The light source grew nearer and nearer as she hurriedly approached. She reached it, and tried to vacate the darkness for the light, but when she went to go through the threshold, something blocked her entry. An invisible wall, a window without glass, locked her out, and her snout scrunched up and the brim of her hat folded into her eyes as she slammed headlong into the barrier.

"Ungh! What the hay?" she called out, stepping back in shock.

She tried again and again, striking the barrier in growing frustration after each failed attempt to forsake the shadows, until she wheeled around, and shouted into the darkness.

"What's goin' on here?!Just who the hay are you and what are you toyin' at?"

Silence responded.

"What kind o' friend are you if you won't even show yourself?" she called, raising her voice in anger, "Enough foolin' around! Come out so I can see you!"

"As you wish," crooned the voice, and again, the sound of distant hoof steps, resounding in the expansive, empty air, began to draw nearer.

A silhouette began to take form, the first faint rays of light beginning to fall on the figure as it approached, teasing at its existence as more and more of it became visible with each passing second. Applejack looked into the darkness intently; it was tall, methodical and cautious in its movement. Dark and shadowy, like the environment it clung to, but above all, ominous; not quite menacing, but looming, seeming to prowl around the light, hesitant to enter its influence.

Cautiously, like a foal testing the water at a pool, the figure crept one hoof out of the darkness, a dull, ambient aura encircling its flesh. A leg followed the hoof, then a torso and the beginnings of a snout, until an entire figure came to be in the weak radiance of the glow.

"Sombra?" gasped the mare.

It was definitely him, though he wasn't quite the same; he was unarmored, and his ever-present cape, as well as his ever-present scowl, were absent. He looked her in the eye once, a hint of what seemed to be regret or sorrow, or perhaps the two together, dancing behind his irises; they were red in their centers, but clear and warm elsewhere, anything but menacing, and anything but the look the dethroned normally adorned.

"You think you're a friend?" she continued, angrily and confrontationally; the king looked down at his hooves, pawing at the ground gently as he waited for a chance to speak.

"We're anythin' but friends! We're on different sides o' a fight; you're my enemy! If you think you're gonna change anythin' on me, you're dead wrong! I ain't doin' nothin' for ya, and I ain't gonna put up with any o' your tricks!"

She paused for a moment, catching her spent breath, and allowed the stallion a turn to converse.

"I didn't expect you to trust me, Honesty, which is the reason for the concealment," he explained, gesturing towards the darkness, "And I know you still won't trust me, but I have a simple offer to make you."

"I ain't havin' none o' that." she said, and began to storm away, "Why would you wanna help me; and why should I believe anythin' you say?"

"Because I know what it's like," he answered from behind her.

She stopped where she stood, and slowly turned around. Sombra's eyes matched hers; sad. The brow descended weakly into a wide, pleading gaze, begging for understanding and compassion without having to ask for it.

This Sombra bore no resemblance to the one she'd known. His lack of armor and bare hide made him seem more as an equal; his confidence and power was gone, and he seemed, more or less, vulnerable. His mane fell down around his shoulders with no crown to hold it in place, and his normally displayed fangs were sheathed behind a sorrowful frown.

The king, in a compassionate voice, continued.

"I know what it's like to lose something you once held dear, something you long for every waking moment of every single day, and the hopelessness that comes with not being able to do anything to reclaim it. For me, it's a home. For you, it's..."

"My parents," she whispered, finishing his sentence for him.

"However, I was at least blessed with memory of what I lost," explained Sombra, nodding a bit, "My curse came when I was ripe; yours came before your memory had blossomed. You have nothing to cling to, and your heart, therefore, is incomplete"

Applejack looked away; she didn't want anypony, especially Sombra, to ever see her tears.

"But if you wish, I can help to fill that hole."

Applejack looked up at the king with glossy eyes; his normal devious grin was replaced with a sympathetic smile, sincere and inviting, and she felt herself draw a few steps closer.

"You'd do that for me?" she said in disbelief, "Why?"

"Like I said," he explained, "I'm a friend, one who understands your pain. I know how you feel, and if I can help you endure what you miss in your life, I will. I learned to cope on my own, but it took me centuries. You don't even have more than a few decades; you need my help, and I will give it to you if you're willing to see the truth of your past."

Applejack sniffled once, and nodded her consent as she adjusted the inheritance on her head.

Sombra gestured towards the light source, and stood before it, beckoning her to join his side. They stood two abreast, gazing into the glow. Sombra looked to his right; Applejack's gaze was unflinching in concentration. He lowered his brow once, and his horn began to glow as a scene began to unfold on the other side of the glow.

A room; wooden walls and simple furniture, a bowl of red apples in the center of the coffee table. Packed suitcases lay beneath a darkened window, and the clock read midnight.

Applejack kept watching, secluded from the world she saw in an observant trance, but Sombra's eyes saw nothing but the expression on the mare's face. She was thoroughly captivated, and somewhat hopeful, which would make the reality of the truth all the more...effective.

Sombra felt himself falter a bit in his act, and a toothy grin began to grow on his chin, but he suppressed it, and remained in character. He wasn't lying about anything; everything he'd said was true, but the reality of truth, as he knew well, could be much more horrifying than the conceptions of imagination and assumption.

Sombra turned an eye back to the scene behind the glow.

A stallion and a mare entered the room together, hurriedly and with upset expressions on their faces. The stallion wore a familiar hat, and the mare, in resemblance, appeared much like the pony at his side. He could feel the anxiety radiating from his companion, and he knew the recollection to be doing its job.

Sound was absent in the scene, which left room for the mind to wander and assume, and as the stallion said something to the mare, she nodded and began to heave up the luggage from beneath the windowsill. The stallion did the same, and they made for the door.

Before they left, however, a small darted in at them. Thin and lanky, no more than a few years old, a red hide, a blonde mane, a green apple on his flank and a face full of tears. He cried as he rushed to the stallion's side, but as he tried to cling to his leg, he was thrown back by a swift hoof and a scalding glare.

He was angrily reprimanded as he tried to throw himself around the stallion a second time, and was struck across the face with a firm backhand, and, with a hoof extending upwards, was told to go upstairs.

The colt fell onto his flanks, sobbing as he stared up at the pair, praying for sympathy and acceptance, but all he received was a glare, and an uncaring scowl. The colt bowed his head, and wept. The pair turned to leave, beginning to push against the wood of the door, but turned around to face a new pony as she entered the scene.

Old, pasty and green with a silvery mane, cradling an infant as she angrily scolded the other two adults in the room. A silent argument came to be within the light; glares intensified as passions ran hot, and mouths opened wide in noiseless shouts and words of malice.

Sombra looked again to the mare at his side; tears had set in, and again, he swallowed a surfacing wolfish grin.

The silent exchange continued, and Applejack's exasperated and panicked breaths became the only sound in the void. Eventually, the stallion waved the older mare away, and with his female companion, turned to leave, toting luggage behind them. The door slammed shut, but produced no sound, as the pair hurriedly vacated the home, and the stallion's hat fluttered to the floor behind him.

He never came back for it.

The old mare approached the colt, still sobbing in anguish, and wrapped a forelimb around him as she cradled the infant in the other. Then, another foal, a filly, younger than the colt by her appearance, wandered in down the stairs; she was confused and was rubbing tired eyes with an orange hoof, her long blonde hair in a mess on top of her petite scalp.

She spoke, and was answered by the mare. She spoke again, a question by the looks of it, and the mare shook her head. Immediately the filly's green eyes flooded over in tears, and she ran back up the stairs, leaving the others behind.

The mare cradled the others in silence, and the vision grew old as nothing happened, save for tears striking against the hardwood and pitiful heaving and sobbing from the room's residents.

Eventually, the colt rose, and looked into the mare's eyes in a heartbroken gaze, and then, plodded upstairs.

The mare herself rose after a short pause, struggling on aged hips to rise from the ground, and she too, turned to go, but, as if on a whim, she turned back around.

She walked over to the doorway, still sealed shut, and stooped. She picked up the stallion's hat, a brown Stetson with a crescent carved out of its brim. She dusted it off, looking down at it glumly, and then turned, and with the hat in one hoof and the infant cradled gingerly in the other, returned back upstairs as the scene swirled around itself into nothingness, and a blank light took its place.

Applejack's eyes, dampened and red by anguish, heaved air in and out as she fell onto her flanks, her hat falling off in the process. Her braided mane fell down her back, and she stared wide eyed into the light, the trance having been broken but its effects still lingering with no possibility of ever leaving.

The sound of her breathing, coming in frantic chokes and gasps as despair blocked her airways, was interrupted by a low, rumbling voice at her side.

"A pity isn't it Honesty?" said Sombra, standing over her, and looking down to her with a condescending scowl, "All these years longing for the knowledge of your past, and now, this."

He shook his head slowly, closing his eyes as his chin stooped a bit. He leaned in closely, his intense eyes opening inches from hers, and his teeth bore into a smug grin.

"I don't believe it," stuttered Applejack defiantly, "My parents would never do anything like that. Granny said..."

"Granny said?" interrupted the stallion, raising a brow sarcastically, "And whoever said she was infallible? A lie fabricated for a good purpose is possibly the most effective, as well as the most potent, of all."

Applejack looked up at him in horror; could this really be true? Could this really be the answer?

"Your 'Granny', I assume, told you that your parents loved you, and didn't want to leave, but they had to," he said mockingly, "and that they would come back some day. And no doubt she gave you your father's hat, saying it was a token, a promise by your father of love and guidance for the life, your life, he has been, and forever will be, absent in."

"Then why hasn't Big Mac said anythin' to me? He was there, I saw him! And he was the one who told me that Ma and Pa disappeared when we were foals!"

"Your brother hardly says anything of importance regardless. Why should he tell you?" Sombra challenged, "Even if he was keen enough to realize the reality behind your parents' absence, he would be apprehensive to tell you anything at all. After all, you're his baby sister," he said, talking to her as an inferior, mockingly and scornfully, "and he wants to protect you from the painful truth. And like I said, a lie made up to hide the truth is the most potent of all, because the mind accepts it."

Sombra began to stalk around her.

"Everything you've known regarding your parents was told to you by another; you saw little that night, and remember even less. You've accepted lies your whole life, and I'm trying to show you the truth, but you deny it!"

"Honesty," he scoffed, "If you were truly worthy of your element, you would know me to be telling the truth."

He lounged inwards to her as she sat silent on the cold, hard ground.

Sombra whispered into her ear, "And the truth is this; your parents didn't love you. They despised you and your siblings alike, and left you forsaken and hopeless on the patch of dirt you call home in the care of somepony else to seek a life without you. Your family lied to you to protect you, but now that the truth is yours, its strength is overbearing."

He paused, stopping over her head as he looked down with piercing red eyes.

"You see Honesty," he whispered, chivalry rather than ice in his voice, "sometimes the truth hurts more than not knowing."

He began to walk off, his footsteps echoing in the darkness.

"Maybe," he said over his shoulder to her, still sitting motionless in despair, "you should reconsider what you think to be true. Because one day, the truth will find you, and despair will come with it."

He disappeared into the darkness, his sound fading away, and she was left cold, alone and afraid in the hollow embrace of the faint glow of the light.

She winced, doubled over, and cried.