In Memoriam

Shining Armor stared at the mare before him. In that moment, the hall around him ceased to exist.

Wings, he noticed again. A horn, too. She was an alicorn. Was that important? He racked his brain to try and remember if it was, but instead of an appropriate memory, the image of a strange mare’s face rippled across his mind’s eye. She had wings, too. And a horn - but who was she?

He doubled over, clutching his head as a wave of pain pierced through his skull. When he opened his eyes again, ponies in the crowd were murmuring amongst themselves and staring at him oddly. The mare at his side was giving him a look of some concern.

And then he remembered her name.

Crystal Heart. Queen of the Crystal Empire.

His lover.

“No,” he whispered. There was somepony else; this couldn’t be right. That face flickered across his thoughts again and he let out a whimper as pain stabbed through his skull again.

“My love,” he heard from beside him. It was her voice. “Are you unwell?”

“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath and sat up straighter in his chair. His throne. The great hall returned around him, the din of talking ponies starting up once more.

He caught sight of his hoof again - charcoal grey, not white. But why would it be white? “Just a headache.”

“An ill humor,” the Queen said, nodding. “You work yourself too hard, my love.”

He offered her a wan smile. “Of course. I’ll...try to lay off a bit.”

Her laughter rang through the hall like chimes of glass. “‘Lay off?’ What a marvelous turn of phrase. Your Equestrian dialect never ceases to entertain, Sombra.”

Sombra. Was that his name? Then who was Shining Armor? The image of the other mare flickered through his mind a third time, but this time it was barely more than a mist. This stab of pain brought less than a wince.

He gave her a nod, smiling uncertainly. “I’m...happy to hear it.”

“Your majesty!” A stocky crystal stallion, a wide-brimmed hat upon his head, bowed from his place by the hall door. “The next petitioner would address you.”

“Let him approach,” Crystal Heart said. The stallion nodded and gestured to a pony behind him - a unicorn, it seemed. The mark on his flank was obscured by a rich, silken robe that trailed behind him as he walked. He proceeded down the aisle with his muzzle held high, each hoofstep padding along the bright-red carpet at an even pace.

As the unicorn approached, Shini… Sombra took the opportunity to observe the crowd. The vast majority of the crowd was made up of crystal ponies, their coats sparkling in the light of the throne room. Some ponies - pegasi and unicorns, mostly - added their numbers to the crowd, but they were huddled together in their own separate groups. There wasn’t an earth pony to be found.

Most of the ponies had eyes only for Crystal Heart, their eyes never leaving their Queen’s figure. Some watched the unicorn proceeding up the aisle toward the throne - an ambassador, perhaps? - but a surprising amount had their eyes on Shining himself.

Some seemed curious, probably due to the scene he’d just made. Others seemed sympathetic. Yet more faces than he had been prepared to see offered only scowls, narrowed eyes, or gritted teeth. They didn’t trust him. Why?

The unicorn had finally reached the stage beneath the throne. He bowed low to the ground, his horn nearly touching the red carpet before he lifted his head up again. “Great Queen,” he began, “I bring you tidings of friendship from Princesses Luna and Celestia of Equestria.”

“We are pleased to hear it,” Crystal Heart said. “Approach, friend, and deliver your sovereigns’ words.”

The unicorn stood up straighter and adjusted the robe hanging around his shoulders. “Queen Crystal Heart,” he said, bowing again in her direction. “Former Archmage Sombra.” A curt nod in Shining Armor’s direction.

Or not Shining Armor. His name was Sombra, it seemed. Who had Shining Armor been, then? A memory? A falsehood?

The unicorn did not like him; that much was obvious. There’d been a cold look in those eyes when their gazes met. And former Archmage - what did that mean? He didn’t remember much, but he did know that Archmage was a title given out only to the most advanced of unicorns. As far as he knew, too, the title couldn’t be revoked. Yet apparently, somehow, his had been.

He settled back in his chair and pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. The ambassador was speaking again.

“In thanks for opening trade between our two great nations, our Princesses would like to present you with a gift,” he said, his eyes once again for Crystal Heart alone. His horn flickered a deep blue and a neatly-wrapped package floated up at his side. The Queen’s horn lit as well, her own bright pink aura taking over and levitating the package toward her.

“It is of our finest make,” the ambassador said as the Queen’s magic carefully opened the package. “Our royal artisans labored for weeks to create it. It is our greatest hope that you take it as a token of the love our Princesses bear for you and yours.”

Crystal Heart lifted the item from the now-opened box and held it to the light. The crowd gaped and stomped their hooves on the ground appreciatively as a beam of sunlight struck it, sending swirls of colored light all throughout the chamber.

It was a sword - a rapier, to be precise - forged from what seemed to be pure silver. Its handle was set with rubies and emeralds, with sapphires forming the shape of a heart on the hilt. Its tip came to a perfect, wicked point, and the blade glinted as Crystal Heart shifted its position in the air.

“A marvelous gift,” the Queen said. The ambassador smiled. “It is a pity, though, that we have no need of such a sword.”

The smile left the ambassador’s face in the blink of an eye, but he was at least trained enough to keep it from falling into a scowl. “Your majesty?”

“Sombra, my love,” Crystal Heart said, gazing at the sword with half-lidded eyes. “Would you like a present?”

Shini - Sombra hesitated, then nodded. “You honor me, my Queen.” He took the sword in the grasp of his own magic. It glowed a deep, black-flecked red - Red? Why not blue? - as he considered it, turning it over and inspecting its make.

“Your Princesses’ gesture is more than appreciated,” Crystal Heart said, turning back to the sputtering ambassador. “But the Empire needs but one sword to defend it.” Her horn glimmered and then there was a bright, impossible light filling the room. Sombra shied back from the sudden light and waited for his eyes to adjust before looking again.

A sword hovered above Crystal Heart’s head, its tip pointed straight toward the heavens. Its blade was wrought of diamond, its handle of the finest sapphire. The crest of a heart, light blue and matching the design on Crystal Heart’s crown, sat upon the hilt, carved more perfectly than any gem Sombra had seen before. Rainbows scattered from the blade and filled the air, spurring gasps and sighs from the crowd.

“Soulgem,” said Crystal Heart. “The ancient blade of my House. The sword and shield of the Empire.”

All eyes were on her - and on the sword as well. The heart-shaped sapphire glowed with a powerful, inner light, a flame dancing within its depths as swirls of gold and silver leapt from the tip.

“Your majesty,” the ambassador began, “my Princesses did not mean to offer offense - “

“Nor did you,” the Queen said. She sounded almost amused. “Your gift is duly appreciated. I am sure that Archmage Sombra will wear it well.” The ambassador flinched at the use of Sombra’s title, but offered no rebuke. “I am pleased to accept your token of friendship. Perhaps it is only appropriate that a unicorn-of-crystal bears it in my place, as a symbol of the friendship between our two peoples.”

A murmur went up from the crowd at the words she’d used for Sombra, but Queen Crystal Heart evidently paid them no mind. Sombra did not either: He had eyes only for the sword above Crystal Heart’s head, the power within its blade all but pounding against his ears. A deep hunger welled up inside him as he beheld it in all its glory.

Yet Soulgem vanished in the blink of an eye as Crystal Heart’s magic released it, leaving the chamber feeling darker, uglier, and impossibly more mundane in its absence. Sombra blinked and shook his head, feeling the sensation of hunger disappear as quickly as it had come.

“Come, then!” the Queen announced, clapping her hooves together. “Let us celebrate the presence of our honored guests and the friendship between our nations. Let us feast in their honor!”

A cheer went up from the crowd - but it sounded off, as though it had come from deep underwater and was merely an echo, or perhaps the echo of an echo. Sombra blinked as the voices merged together, figures blurring until he could not tell one pony from another.

He blinked once more, and the hall dissolved into white.

Cadance eyed the Crystal Throne as the rest of her guards crowded into the chamber. She’d seen Celestia’s chair back in Canterlot, and while that had been no less regal, it had been...different. That was a seat - a royal one, perhaps, but a dressing of power. Gold, like the sun - Celestia’s sun. Perhaps that was why Cadance had never felt the chair itself to be anything special. It was a pretty enough object, to be sure, but it held no real power. Celestia was the power behind Equestria, Cadance reflected wryly. Funny how a horn and a few years of calling her “Auntie” had let that fact fade in her mind.

As she stood here, though, at the seat of the Crystal Empire’s power and history, there was no doubting that the Crystal Throne was the true source of power here. She’d heard stories, of course - supposedly the former Royal Family had been alicorns, just like herself and Celestia (and Luna, she added after a moment, admonishing herself for forgetting). But none of their names had survived to the modern day. She had to ask herself whether that was due to Sombra’s destruction of the Royal Family or due to their own inconsequence in light of the true source of their power.

For the Crystal Throne had survived; there was no doubting that. Over millennia, through war and famine and corruption, it had grown hard like diamond, its strength and power deeper and greater than any monarch who might have wielded it. The Throne had never spoken to her, but Cadance had felt that great, ancient weight each time she dared sit that chair.

Her own choice of words forced her lips into a tight smirk: ‘Dared,’ as if she were a mere upstart, unworthy of the Throne. At least one thing was certain: With its towering pillars of crystal; its firm, unwielding back and sides; and its dangerous yet beautiful spikes beckoning her at every side, the Crystal Throne was no comfortable seat.

“Princess? We’re ready.”

Cadance turned to Lieutenant Quill and nodded. “Have everypony stand back. Zirconic?”

The mage stepped forward. “Yes, your majesty?”

“Stand behind me. I want you to watch the crystals and tell me if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Is everypony ready?” she asked over her shoulder. After receiving a chorus of “Yes” from her escorts, she lowered her head, steeled herself, and summoned up her magic.

It was funny how it seemed that she was the only one in the Crystal Empire - well, currently, anyway - with the power to open the way to Sombra’s hidden castle. The “bridge” of dark magic that Sombra had created between the Crystal Palace and his own, twisted dimension was nothing if not thorough in concealing his tracks.

She was stalling, she realized, with light-blue magic still flickering around her horn. Her entire forehead was buzzing with energy and light, but not even a drop of power had been converted to the dark energy that Sombra had manipulated to first create the bridge.

Was she scared? No, she decided - not scared. There was nothing to fear, especially from her own magic. Then what was she feeling?

Disgust, she realized. She’d touched the source of Sombra’s power only once before, when the Order of the Topaz had requested she open the way to the Door of Fear in order to let them study its composition and, if possible, what lay beyond. The only other thing they’d found was the tower the Heart had been stored in for the centuries that it had lain hidden, and when they’d found it empty, she’d insisted they return as quickly as possible.

Twilight had been there, then, but had insisted on teaching Cadance how to access that...energy in case she’d ever needed to use it again. A lump rose in Cadance’s throat. The memory of that slick, oily magic oozing from her font; the sensation of falling further and further with each passing second; the unignorable feeling of corruption and decay… Was that what was stopping her? Was that the only thing standing between her and her Shining Armor?

She grit her teeth and glared at the Throne. It couldn’t be. She wouldn’t let herself be so soft - so weak  - as to let Shining Armor stay in the clutches of whatever monster had taken him captive. She was no simpering little Princess, to cower and whine while others did her work for her. She was better than that.

Somehow, as the first spark of darkness sputtered from her horn, she thought she felt something from the Crystal Throne, as impossible as it seemed: a flicker of approval.

She raised her head defiantly, fixed the Throne with narrowed eyes, and let out a snarl as dark, crackling energy burst from her horn and smashed into the crystals above the Door of Fear.

The transformation was like turning day into night. A dark, simmering corruption spread across the surface of each gem before jumping to the next. It was a wave that boiled over the Throne, spreading like an infection with each passing second until each crystal was covered in an oily, opaque grey.

The instant that the final stretch of crystal was covered in Sombra’s magic, a light sprang up at the top of the Throne - no ordinary light, but one of darkness, one that seemed to draw in light, absorbing rather than radiating it. It spread across the floor of the room like the light of dawn, but whatever surface it touched transformed from a bright, sparkling crystal into dark, grey stone instead. Cadance nodded to herself as the staircase down was revealed, its winding steps leading down into what seemed like a neverending darkness.

She turned around and grimaced at the looks on everypony else’s face. To their credit, Zirconic appeared interested and Cerulean merely apathetic, but most of the other ponies had made no effort to conceal the disgust that she’d so clearly felt. It took her a moment to realize that it wasn’t directed at her - not entirely, at least.

However long Sombra had ruled, there was still some memory of the Throne’s power in the Empire, she knew. To see its energies perverted like this, especially in a way that lingered in living memory even now, must have been a grave offense to any pony of crystal heritage.

She met Quill’s gaze. She was relieved, at least somewhat, to see him nod in return. He knew why this was necessary, at least. Her other guards might follow her as their Princess - though somewhere in her heart, she knew they wished for a Queen - but Quill knew how she hated using Sombra’s power. He’d been there when Twilight had introduced it to her; he’d comforted her, along with Shining Armor, when she’d nearly thrown up after first channeling its strength.

She turned back to the Throne. Each member of her escort still stood well clear of the yawning mouth of the staircase, save for Zirconic, who was busy inspecting the darkened crystals before it. “Have you found anything unexpected?” she asked.

Zirconic shook his head and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “No, your majesty,” he replied. He laid a hoof on the blackened crystal atop the throne and shivered, though from fear or excitement Cadance could not possibly say. “The bridge seems to have formed successfully.”

“Good.” Cadance moved to the top stair and nodded her head toward her guard. “Quill, Cerulean. You’re with me. Everypony else, follow up behind.”

“Princess,” Quill said. “You can’t possibly go. You need to stay here, where - “

“ - where it’s safe?” Cadance cut in. She fixed him with an even look. “Lieutenant Quill, I have no intention of allowing others to rescue my husband while I stand on the sidelines. I will save him, and I will allow neither considerations for my own safety nor the objections of my councilors to stand in my way. Is that understood?”

Quill - as well as most of the guardsponies flanking him - nodded mutely.

“And besides,” Cadance said, a small grin on her face, “I’m the only one with the magic to get us through the Door of Fears. Seeing as a unicorn designed most of the palace anyway, it looks like you’re better off stuck with me anyway.

“Now,” she said, smiling widely, “who wants to go down first?”

“Tell me, when will you finally say yes?”

Sombra looked up from the book he’d been reading. Crystal Heart lay on the edge of her massive four-poster bed, her hooves folded beneath her chest. She’d removed her crown, dropping it haphazardly on the stand beside her bed. Her mane had been left free to fall over her forehead and shoulders, her bright, pink hair framing her face.

“Yes to what?” Sombra asked. He glanced back down at the book in his hooves. For some reason, he couldn’t remember what he’d been reading only a moment before. To make matters worse, the words on the page blurred together, making even the most cursory of glances at the thing useless. He blinked a few times, but the book remained stubbornly illegible.

Crystal Heart laughed. Sombra knew instantly that he’d always loved her laugh: that rich, chiming mirth that seemed to fill an entire room. “To marriage, of course.”

Of course. He chided himself. Hadn’t she been asking about little else for the past weeks? He stared at the book for a few more useless moments before slamming the covers shut and tossing it to the ground. “My answer has not changed, my sweet.”

“But why?” Crystal Heart pouted, flopping back on her bed. A quartet of fat, pink pillows caught her fall. “You love me, and I love you. Why not get married now?”

He stood up and sighed. Crystal Heart raised an eyebrow, then giggled as he made his way over to the bed.

He took her in hoof as he climbed onto the bed, a leg around her neck, another over her back, both holding her close. His chin rested on her shoulder, and he could barely restrain the smirk that emerged as she giggled again, squirming under his weight.

“So?” she asked hopefully. “Why not?”

“My work,” he said first. “It is a dangerous field that I dabble in, and were anything to happen to me, that could bode ill for the kingdom.”

“Bah,” she said. She turned to face him and poked his snout. “You’re Archmage Sombra, the greatest wizard in a thousand years.”

“Former Archmage,” he corrected her, “as our Equestrian friends so happily reminded us the last time they visited. And no matter my skill or power, even I am far from immortal or invulnerable.”

“But you would not work with things that you could not control.”

“The Equestrian Council of Magic evidently thought otherwise,” he said mildly. “That is not my only reason, of course.”

“Oh?” she asked. She snuggled closer into his chest. “What other meaningless reason have you found to drudge up for me?”

“Your parents - “

“ - can do nothing. Mother abdicated the throne. I am Queen, remember? If I choose to marry you, she is powerless to object.”

“Yet she could make life difficult for us,” Sombra said. “As could your father and his ministers.”

“The Council is mine,” Crystal Heart said, inspecting a hoof. “They are honor-bound to obey the Queen.”

“Of course, your majesty. I did not mean to imply anything less.”

She frowned at him. “There you go again. You always become twice as formal when you do not wish to talk.”

“I am always willing to speak with my Queen,” he said. “My mind, body, and soul are at her disposal.”

“So you say. Yet you will not marry me.”

“Alas,” Sombra said, offering a humorless smile. “That is the last piece of autonomy that I choose to retain. Otherwise, I am your humble servant.”

“Then prove your fealty to me,” Crystal Heart said. She met his eyes with her own.

“How shall I?” he asked.

In a flash, Sombra found himself pinned to the bed, his back to the sheets. Crystal Heart leaned over him with her weight on his chest. A predatory gleam shone in her eyes.

“By not saying no.” Her hooves curled around his ears and then her mouth was almost upon his, her lips slightly open.

He closed his eyes, and once more the world dissolved beneath his hooves.

The staircase to Sombra’s castle had been found to go down the length of a hoofball field, but to Cadance, the distance seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Each hoofstep came as mechanically as the last. None of her guards even attempted to make conversation, neither with each other or with her. For that much, she was grateful. The further they descended from the throne room, the darker the fears in her heart grew. As she neared the bottom, she bit her lip and forced herself to gather her thoughts.

In Twilight Sparkle, Cadance had found something of a kindred spirit: another pony for whom life was a blur of lights and colors waiting to be broken down and analyzed. Her mouth curled into an unwilling smile as she recalled the hundreds of “charts” they’d made when trying to understand her attraction to Shining Armor.

It was one of those conversations in particular that she struggled to remember now as her throat constricted and her heart threatened to jump out of her chest. The scene: Cadance, desperate to pass her final exams and unable to believe that she could; Twilight, slightly bemused, but willing enough to help.

It’s kind of hard to deal with taking lots of tests, Twilight had said. Cadance had more than agreed. Kind of scary, too, Twilight had went on. Cadance had nodded.

But I’ve found ways to deal with it, Twilight had said. When asked to explain, Twilight had held up a hoof and entered what a gushing Cadance had only been able to call lecture mode. She’d told Cadance three things.

Check your facts and analyze the situation. Are you where you need to be? If not, how can you get there?

Find out what the problem is. Reduce it to a basic set of assumptions, and work from there to create a list of smaller challenges to overcome.

Remove any extraneous variables - especially those beyond your control - and create an environment in which you have full autonomy. Use that to develop the tools to confront the problem at hand.

Cadance went down the list. First, she needed to analyze the situation she was in. Shining Armor had been taken captive by an unknown assailant. She’d done her best to follow those clues left at the scene of the crime and in doing so had descended into Sombra’s old castle to save him. Given the size and relative isolation of the Crystal Empire, there were few other places where Shining Armor could have been taken; thus, their decision to enter here had been a reasonable one.

Second step. Though the guards he had been with had been knocked out, there’d been no signs of a struggle; thus, it made sense to assume that whoever his attacker had been, they’d wanted him whole and unharmed. Therefore, the problem probably wasn’t an immediate, physical danger to Shining Armor; otherwise, the assailant would have merely “dealt with” him on the Crystal Pavillion.

An edge of bile entered her mouth as the thought entered her mind, but she forced it back down. She was being rational. She couldn’t afford to lose herself in emotional responses. A Princess had to be better than that.

Therefore, Shining Armor had to be in another kind of danger. She could assume that his captor had had possession of some kind of magical or other, non-martial means of taking him prisoner; medical inspection of the guards who had last seen him had turned up no obvious traces of physical injury.

Finally, Shining Armor had been taken down here, specifically. So, it seemed likely that the attacker either couldn’t or wouldn’t pass through the barrier forming the boundary of the Empire; thus, they’d originated from somewhere in the city itself. It made sense, then, that the attacker had either originated from down here or had been a pony - or other creature - who possessed prior knowledge of Sombra’s ancient constructions and spells.

They were dealing with a likely-magical assailant who had not intended an immediate threat to Shining Armor or the guards near him. Said assailant had instead relocated to somewhere beneath the Crystal Palace, using magic or other means to access an area that only a specially-trained unicorn was supposed to be able to access.

Cadance’s brow furrowed. If not for the nonviolence that their target had so far shown, all signs seemed to point toward Sombra - a ghost or shade, perhaps - as their culprit. She had no idea of how such a thing might have been possible, however. Perhaps Quill had been far more correct than she’d initially suspected in advising caution in her judgement.

Third step, then. Remove any extra variables and reduce the scenario to one in which you are in complete control. Even in just thinking about it, Cadance was fairly sure that she’d already done an acceptable job in -

Her hooves hit the floor below the last step and she stumbled. She caught herself at the last minute and before she went fully head-over-hoof for whichever guard had been standing in front of her. Lieutenant Quill, who had been leading the way, turned back over his shoulder at the clatter and offered a comforting sort of half-smile. Thankfully, he said nothing.

“We have arrived,” Zirconic announced from his place near the front of their group. He was already squatting before the Door, his hoof held out toward it, though never quite getting close enough to trigger its flight response. A small light shone from his hoof. “And the Door appears to be exactly as we left it when the Order was last down here.”

“Good,” Quill said. A half-smirk, half-frown crossed his face as he noticed the glowing gemstone in Zirconic’s grasp, and he snorted. “Princess,” he said, once he’d gotten control of himself again, “whenever you’re ready.”

Cadance nodded and stepped to the front of the group. For whatever reason, Sombra had chosen to seal this door using a normal unicorn’s magic rather than his own, darker power. Magic of any kind forced it to stay in its place, but Twilight had found out the hard way what would happen if she attempted to use the same power that had gained her entry to the stairs in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, Cadance closed her eyes and touched her magical font once more. Power welled up in her, swirling in her veins as it moved toward and through her horn.

Something felt odd about her magic, though. It felt… sluggish. Weak. Cadance’s lip curled - she must be out of practice. She’d relied on butlers and servants and who knew what else for too long. When was the last time she’d used her magic for any serious task? She doubled down and yanked the energy from her font and shoved it into her horn.

The power, unlike Sombra’s magic, which had lashed out from her forehead in a crackle of energy, instead leapt gracefully from the tip of her horn to the jewelled crest atop the door. The gem glowed a bright pink, its center pulsating with magic. Cadance nodded to herself as the Door of Fears creaked open, revealing a blank white landscape beyond.

Lieutenant Quill took the lead once more, stepping through the door and glancing at both sides. Cadance and the rest followed when he signalled for them to come through, but when she saw his face, she noticed a grimace resting on his features.

“What is it?” she asked.

“See for yourself,” he said. He waved a hoof above his head. Cadance’s eyes followed it.

The staircase that had been here before was gone. When Twilight had shown them this area, there’d been a staircase - admittedly, a false one - that had been key to finding the place where the Crystal Heart had been kept. Now, however, the ground and walls around the Door were as clean and empty as a whitewashed room, with no staircase to be found.

“There,” Cerulean said, pointing up into the ‘sky.’ Cadance squinted and followed her gesture. Yes, there was a tiny smudge far up in the sky that might be the stairs that they had followed before, but they were far too high for any of her escort to reach. It looked like they would take her a long time to reach even while flying.

Out of something resembling spite, she almost readied her wings before remembering that the staircase itself was infinite. Their true destination lay in the opposite direction, yet another testament to the bizarre ways that Sombra had found to twist the universe to his will. Cadance pursed her lips and folded her wings again.

“It’s...decaying,” Zirconic said, peering through what looked to be a piece of glass. Undoubtedly, it was some kind of looking-gem that his Order had enchanted to hold enhanced vision.”It’s hard to make out, but each step is...I don’t know, fading. More and more with every second.”

“But why?” Quill demanded. “It was fine just the last time we came down here.”

“I could not say.” Zirconic stowed the glass back in his saddlebags. “From the rate, however, and the distance consumed, it cannot have been going on for long - a day, perhaps. Likely an even shorter period.”

“Like the time that has passed since Shining Armor was taken?” Cadance asked.

Zirconic did not reply verbally. He did nod, however, his brow creased and his lips thinned.

“So now what?” Quill asked, of nopony in particular. “That staircase was our one chance of finding General Armor.” A chorus of nods and agreeing grunts went up from the guards around him.

“Forgive me, Lieutenant, but I don’t believe we should give up just yet.”

They all turned to face Cerulean. She had a hoof on her snout, and was peering up at the tower thoughtfully. “The place where the Crystal Heart was stored was well-made, but all this seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to for a simple safe.”

“What do you mean?” Zirconic asked.

“Well, think about it,” Cerulean said. “The staircase was obviously intended to mislead anyone trying to find the Heart, but if that was what Sombra wanted to accomplish, he could have hidden it anywhere out here.” She projected the last word out over the vast, white space that lay out before them. “But doing so would ensure that the first place that anyone looked when trying to find the Heart would be somewhere around this tower.”

“So you’re saying that the staircase was not only a false trail, but a distraction from an entirely different entrance?” Cadance asked. Cerulean nodded.

“A pity your Order couldn’t do more to find one when they came down here,” Quill said to Zirconic. The mage’s cheeks flushed, and he turned away from the group.

“Lieutenant Quill!” Cadance said, scowling. “We don’t need that kind of pettiness right now.”

His cheeks colored as well, and he stared down at the ground. “I - my apologies, Princess. I just don’t know what came over me.”

“Nothing did,” came Zirconic’s voice, muffled by his cape. “It isn’t like there would be any meaningful thoughts in your head to stop such an outburst from occurring in the first place.”

Quill’s head snapped up so quickly that Cadance almost expected to hear his neck cracking like a whip. “What did you say about me?”

Zirconic turned back around, his cape curling around his sides. “I believe that your ears are suitable enough to have heard. Or has the memory already left your head?”

Quill’s expression darkened. “Those are pretty big words coming from a pony weak enough to depend on parlor tricks to make his living.” He laid a hoof on the sword at his side. Several of the guards around him did the same.

“I - “ Zirconic began, but Cadance had seen enough.

“No more!” she roared. “All of you are acting like foals! How dare you argue like this - threaten each other! - while my husband, your Prince and General, is trapped somewhere beneath our hooves! What kind of selfish, misguided, downright monstrous ponies could possibly - “

“Princess. I’ve found it.”

Cerulean’s mild words cut through Cadance’s tirade so sharply that the words felt like they’d been sliced right out of her throat. Cadance paused, blinked, turned around to see who had spoken, and then visibly deflated.

“Found what?” a guard asked from behind Quill. He was one of the few that hadn’t already had a hoof on his sword, though from the looks of it, he’d been close.

“I don’t know,” Cerulean said, “but I think you’ll want to take a look at it.” The last part was directed evenly between Cadance and Zirconic, the latter managing to find the decency to look at least somewhat abashed.

After a few moments of deep breaths, Cadance finally felt ready to respond. “Very well. Everypony, let’s - “

She was interrupted by the sound of clattering metal at her hooves. She glanced down with wide eyes. Lieutenant Quill had knelt to the ground before her, his eyes squeezed shut and his sword on the ground beside him.

“My Princess,” he bit out, “I have failed you. I have allowed myself to be overcome by folly and unreasonable pride. If you wish to take my rank and armor in punishment, then so be it.” Several other guards took his lead and knelt beside him, muttering similar statements.

Cadance opened her mouth to admonish him, but a thought occurred to her before she could speak a word. “Zirconic,” she said instead, “I want you to scan for lingering dark magic in the area.”

Zirconic started, the blush in his cheeks flaring up again. “I - yes, of course, your majesty.” He made a show of rummaging through his saddlebags before drawing out a small, spherical orb that he proceeded to hold up to his eye.

He took a sharp intake of breath. “It’s… There are heavy traces of it all around us. It’s thicker than fog. No wonder - “

“ - we’ve been bickering like schoolfillies?” Cadance finished for him. She turned back to Quill and the rest of the guards. “Rise, soldiers. You’ve been taking in the miasma of dark magic for as long as you’ve been here. It’s been seeping into your mind, corrupting your thoughts. Now that we know about it, however, we can shake its influence off.” Or at least, she hoped they could.

“Thank you, Princess,” Quill said. He clumsily took a stand again and resheathed his sword. “I will not fail you a second time.”

“I know you won’t,” Cadance said. She placed a hoof on his shoulder and met his gaze evenly. And I will not fail you, she silently added. The fact that she’d let things go on for so long without recognizing the obvious cause meant that she’d screwed up - big time. This was Sombra’s lair; she should have expected some lingering influences of his magic.

“Now,” she said firmly, “let’s go see what Cerulean has found.”

Cerulean’s discovery turned out to be a small depression in the wall of the tower directly opposite of the Door of Fear. At Cadance’s command, Zirconic kept his looking-glass in hoof and squinted through it at the location.

“There’s certainly something there,” he murmured, taking a step closer. “It’s subtle, but there’s a small magic field lingering just behind the surface.”

“Thank you, Cerulean,” Cadance said. Cerulean nodded in return.

“Now,” Zirconic muttered to himself, “if I can only…” He placed a hoof on the wall, closed his eyes, and rotated his leg ninety degrees. Then, as everyone watched, he began to pull his hoof back, a groaning, creaking sound echoing in the plain of nothingness as he did. By the time he’d finished, a door stood before them, a gem atop its frame like the one that decorated the Door of Fears.

Zirconic took a heavy step back. He was wheezing, sweat streaming down his face. “That...was not as easy as I expected,” he huffed. “Most...mages...couldn’t even manage that much.”

“But you did so anyway,” Cadance said. “Thank you, Zirconic.” Quill even offered him a grudging nod of approval.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

“Princess?” Cerulean asked. “Do you think that this door opens the same as the other?”

“Most likely,” Cadance said. She eyed the jewel atop the door - a faded, pale red, unlike the greyish blue of the Door of Fears. Was that significant? She hoped not. “There’s only one way to find out. Everypony, stand back.”

She summoned up her stores of magic once more. Now that she could recognize the pressure of the dark miasma on her font, it was easier to shift around it, to channel her magic almost as well as she could without its influence. A spark of bright pink energy leapt toward the gem, which lit up like a firework in response. Cadance held her breath as the door slowly crept open, the others crowding around her as it did.

Behind the door, standing in a small cell barely as large enough for two ponies to stand abreast, Shining Armor brushed the matted hair out of his eyes and offered her a weak smile.

“Hey,” he said. “You took your time.”