From the Shadows

Sombra sat on his throne, made black by a layer of crystals, overgrown over the once gilded throne of the castle's previous regal resident. He leaned on his hoof, which was rested on the oversized chair's arm-rest, deep in thought, as well as boredom. He had already done plenty since his re-crowning, and now, he was simply waiting for his actions' results to return.

The king had already made good use of his new privileges; conscripting a small army and staff from the surrounding towns, after exterminating the members of the previous regime of course, beginning to redecorate the castle's interior to fit his more opaque color preference, and, perhaps most importantly, sending forcefully recruited envoys to the Crystal Empire, using fear, primarily that of losing their loved ones, to... "persuade" them to do his bidding.

After all, he needed news of Cadence's reaction to becoming a widow, namely, her decision on whether or not to try and rule the Crystal Empire, especially after hearing about Celestia's current situation. He could have gone himself, but then, what was the point of being the king if you had to actually work yourself; he'd worked so hard to get back to the top in the first place, and by the gods, he'd relish in the privileges of unfamiliar comfort.

But, other than that, there was still a different pony's response to his second coronation that he was waiting on.

But, before he could think any more in the oh so wonderful silence of his throne room, one of the faces he was waiting on came galloping through the doorless threshold to the throne room, made so by a bit of an overzealous display of power the night prior.

"My liege," yelled the stallion, his hide white, but sullied by dirt and grime, in a voice resonating in uncertainty and fear, "I bring news!"

"Well then," rumbled the king, not shifting his position nor his expression, "Let's hear it."

"Cadence has resigned her throne, and retreated to the northern mountains of the Griffon Kingdoms. She took the Crystal Heart with her, as well as many of her associates with her; I had to gather this information from the townsfolk. There are few in the Empire that remain. Most fled after their princess. My liege...they are broken."

The stallion's tone was panicked, and his voice trailed off as he finished. Though the news he was delivering was accepted well, he seemed to hate himself for telling it, and to hate the reality behind the things he had said even more.

The king leaned forward in his throne as the envoy finished, his teeth bearing themselves into a grin as his brow descended menacingly. And, upon seeing the stallion below him, at the bottom of the steps leading to the throne, look down and away from his gaze, he rose.

He began descending the stairs slowly, coming closer to the stallion as he stayed frozen in fear-instilled discipline.

"This is good news indeed," he crooned in his rich, exotic baritone, "The Empire will be vulnerable, ours for the taking. By the end of the month, our territory will double, our resources, triple. And as for the deserters; they won't last. The griffons are not unified, and will be easy enough to pick apart. Cadence and the Crystal Heart will be mine before the year's end. Very good news. Well done messenger."

The stallion looked away, avoiding eye contact from Sombra's murderous stare, but the king took it for something else.

"Do you not agree?"

"My king," he said, more out of fear than loyalty, "It is good for some."

The king stopped, reaching the bottom of the stairs, and though he stood on the same level as the white stallion, he towered over him, looking down a bit disapprovingly.

"I knew many in the Empire, and now...It's a ghost town. I find it hard to see it the same way you do."

Sombra sighed a bit.

"A king does not ask for the royalty of his subjects."

"I meant no disrespect my liege," added the stallion, his tone becoming panicked in a moment.

"It does not matter what you meant, because what you said and felt say more than your intentions. Perhaps a bit of...reformation is needed?"

"No, no, no," insisted the stallion.

"Ah, but the mines need workers, and they have proven to be excellent character builders. Perhaps you would like your family to join you in the quarries?"

"My king, I beg of you..."

"Guards!"

A squadron of armored ponies, dressed in ebony, crystalline armor, their eyes green and possessed by fear, burst into the room, and carried the kicking and screaming stallion outside, while Sombra returned to his throne to think things over. Everything was going so well, what could possibly go wrong?

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

Twilight jolted herself awake, coughing and sputtering as she drank in the ashy morning air. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, and dusty from the soot that surrounded her. Her exhausted eyes looked around through the haze, lingering over what was left of Ponyville, reduced to nothing more than ash and smoldering embers.

This reality had been what caused her to lose any faith and hope left in a continuation of the life she'd known, and that despair, coupled with the two-day sleepless ordeal Sombra had put her through, had been what caused her to cry herself to sleep in the grey, ash covered grass of the remnants of Sweet Apple Acres.

She sniffed again as she, unwillingly, began remembering the past few days. Celestia bringing Sombra to her for the first time to be reformed, the uncomfortable night she'd tried to spend in the library with her brother keeping an eye on the king downstairs in the guest room. How the guards had all left to take one of their own back to Canterlot's military hospitals, just before Shining had gotten sick; she knew his ailment now, but she'd been blind before.

How she'd tried, perhaps ignorantly, to make Sombra comfortable in town, educating him on everything he'd wished to know, about her, her friends, Ponyville...he'd played her. He had used her kindness to take advantage of her, and the fears of her and her friends to grow stronger. Then, he simply got away.

His power was too great, his ambition too strong; what could she have done? Once free, he'd again played her, using her own determination to guide her around town in the vain pursuit of a one-sided chess game, one that Sombra knew well, one that she was green to.

He was just too cunning; too smart, too free with no morals to restrict his pursuit of power, too lust-filled to be deterred by a simple gesture of friendship or goodness, too power hungry to stop shy of complete victory, and she'd been a fool to think she could stand to him before.

And now, because of her foolishness, everything she'd known was gone. Her friends, her brother, her home... her life.

Now, she knew the taste of fear, the meaning of pain, and her heart ached as she struggled to muster the will just to breathe. She knew the feeling of helplessness, the sensation of despair, all because the one that had taught her for so many years had left them out in her lessons. But, her newest teacher knew them well, and he had made sure to pass them on. They were lessons she would never be able to forget. Never.

She struggled to her feet, feeling cold within to match the crisp morning air and the cooled flames all around her. Her eyes were dry now; she had no tears left to cry, no love left to share. They were gone, replaced with something else. It had started as fear, then sorrow, and evolved in the night with thought to become something else she hated to admit dwelled within her.

If her peers were still around, they would be disappointed in her for feeling as such; but, they were gone now. Love was gone, killed within her by the fires of doubt and fear, and drowned by the torrents of sorrow. Friendship and morality had been proven void by the heartless, numb hand of manipulation and death. All these things, fear, sadness, despair, agony, loss, solitude...they'd come together to make something new to her. Something stronger than what she'd known before, but decaying and painful to hold. Something she needed, but something she didn't want. The tool of her demise, and the only hope for her future.

Hate.

Gone now was regret; vengeance had evicted it from her heart, and had taken root in her mind. She'd forgotten about love; it was gone all around her, buried under the rubble of the homes around her, and floating through the air beyond her snout amongst the lingering ash. They would never come back, but she needed to avenge them.

Her vigil was complete; now was a time for action. She'd been reborn in the fire, not herself anymore; something else, darker, but, stronger.

She would avenge them. She would punish their killer.