Dark Arts and Kind Hearts

by Boomstick Mick

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Romance, King Sombra, Fluttershy, Violence, Princess Celestia, Sex, Death, Main 6
Length: 168884

Fluttershy is reluctantly wed to the dark king in order to ensure the preservation of the Crystal Empire

Fluttershy is torn from everything she has ever known and loved to become King Sombra's reluctant bride.

Cover art by the one and only Evehly. May death come swiftly to her enemies!

Published 2015-10-21 20:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2022-03-13 01:04:21 UTC

Breakfast With The King

Author's Note

If I see even ONE Burger King reference in the comments... :twilightangry2:

Breakfast With The King

The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the snowy crags beyond the window pane, the eastern light spilling over the snowy terrain like a wave of shimmering platinum. Fluttershy groaned and drew the thick comforter over her head to shield herself from the intruding incandescence. The cruel rays of firstlight exacerbated the ache in her head, which was rivaled only by that of the ache between her legs.

The way her husband had ravaged her on their first night together, she would never forget that pain as long as she lived: wincing, whimpering, sobbing and gripping the sheets while he so eagerly relieved her of her maidenhood. After he was finally finished with her, she rolled away from him and sobbed into her pillow until sleep finally took her.

Fluttershy's train of thought was interrupted when she detected a rustling behind her. Her early morning somnolence was now beginning to give way to acuity. It was her husband. Her husband was right behind her... Her pulse quickened as she dared to look back at him.

Ever-so-slowly - Sombra was beginning to rise. He sat up, stretched, yawned. It was a surreal experience witnessing how the most infamous dictator in Equestrian history started his day, his eyes sleepily narrowed, his raven mane laying in tussled, disorganized tumbles down his back. Something about the way he looked at that moment was picturesque. His appearance, as bestial as it was, seemed to hold a dark, otherworldly beauty - until the moment he turned his head to look at her. Their eyes met, and just like that he was terrifying again. "My queen," he said, "did you sleep well?"

Fluttershy timidly pulled the blanket up to her chin and forced a nod.

"That is good to know." His eyes narrowed astutely. "I hurt you, didn't I?"

Unsure of how she should respond, Fluttershy feigned ignorance. "I-I'm not sure what you mean."

"Last night." He gently brushed her cheek with the back of his hoof. "It was hardly proper form to be so... Vigorous - on our first night together."

The talk was getting Fluttershy flustered. She tried to disappear under the blankets, blushing a deeper shade of red than the wine she had consumed the night before. "I, uh... It's... Okay."

"Do not hide from me." She could feel his body shifting under the blankets. He pressed himself against her, allowing her to feel how warm he was. She could feel the blanket being peeled away from her, and all she could see when she opened her eyes was him looking down at her, with the most sinister pair of bedroom eyes she had ever witnessed. Trapping her between his arms, he lowered himself until she could feel the heat in his breath, his long black hair tumbling over his bare shoulders and caressing her muzzle. "A husband should take his bride gently on their first night, wouldn't you agree?" he purred into her ear.

Fluttershy closed her eyes, shuttering. She felt his muzzle brushing against her neck, tracing a gentle trail to her lips. The Queen let out a muffled whimper of discontent.

That was when the bedchamber door flew open. The sudden interruption startled poor Fluttershy. She tried to pull away from her husband, but his grasp was as unyielding as iron. The King's reaction was less urgent than hers was. Unhindered and unstartled, he slowly broke away from the kiss to give the interruption an annoyed sideways glare. "What is it, Ethey?"

"E-ethey?" Still pinned to her back, Fluttershy had to crane her head to see around her husband's thick, knotted arm. The child-like mare's expression bore a look of shock. She just stood there, reddening, blinking inarticulately.

"Well?" Sombra said impatiently, after a few unbearably awkward moments.

"I, uh... I seem to have interrupted something."

"Yes, you did," came Sombra's curt answer.

"I-I-I'm t-terribly sorry, my king!" Ethey made for a hasty exit. "I'll just come back la—" The king's horn glowed. The door suddenly slammed shut before her, barring her retreat.

"Speak," Sombra commanded.

Ethereal Moon whipped around to face him, a red flush brightening the tips of her ears like Hearth's Warming Eve lights. She pushed her glasses up her muzzle and said, "I-I can just come back later, if it please your grace!"

"Neigh!" Somba said. "Mine ear is yours. Speak, but be quick about it."

"I, uh... B-breakfast, sire. The servants await your company in the dining hall."

Sombra looked annoyed. "Breakfast." He looked down at Fluttershy, as if she was a piece of unfinished business he was eager to return to. "I have an appetite of another sort that demands sating."

The king's reply set Fluttershy to trembling beneath her husband.

"Uhm. Okay, but you should know that—

"Come back in fifteen minutes," The King said, cutting her off in a tone that brokered no argument.

"If that is your wish, sire. But you—"

"Fifteen minutes!" Sombra's horn glowed again. The door abruptly flew open. An aura of magical light surrounded the tiny adviser, and she was suddenly ejected from the bed chamber with a girlish squeal of dismay. Sombra was sure to close the door before he turned his attention back to his bride. "Now, then," he said. "Where were we?"

Fluttershy turned her head and closed her eyes, the clefts of her trembling forelegs grasping at the sheets in anticipation.

There was a sudden rapping at the door. "My king," came Etereal Moon's muffled voice from behind the wooden barrier, "you told your subjects to convene for breakfast at Eastlight. It is true that they fear you, but do you think they'll truly respect you if you exempt yourself from your own rules whenever it suits your fancy?"

There was something about that that seemed to halt Sombra's advances. The words of that tiny little mare on the other side of the door had somehow reached him. Fluttershy was so grateful, she could kiss her.

"It wouldn't make a good first impression, my king," added the adviser.

The king sighed as he acquiesced to the exhortations. He dismounted from his bride, rolled out of bed, and shuffled sullenly to the fire place where he had disrobed the night before. Fluttershy looked down and realized that she had been clutching at the blankets so fiercely that her hooves had turned white. She released them and winced at the stinging sensation of blood flowing through them once more.

The adviser led them to the feasting hall once they were ready to break their fasts with their subjects. The king looked as menacing as ever with his polished armor adorned, his hair a black flame or thick locks that spilled over his dragon bone crown, and his ever present scowl. Fluttershy was finding herself to be less afraid of that vicious look in his eyes. Unsettled by them, perhaps, though she was no longer utterly terrified, as she had been the first time they had laid eyes upon each other in the Crystal Castle. She couldn't help but wonder again as to what he was. Perhaps she could find the courage to ask him? She would need to wait until they were alone, no doubt.

"I think you will be pleased with breakfast, my king," Ethey began, as they traversed the long, stony hallway. It wasn't as dark or cold as it had been the night before. Somepony had mounted scented torches into the sconces, which bathed the labyrinthine halls in a warm, sweet smelling, orange glow. Fluttershy watched the torchlight glance off of the little ivory skull that bounced around on Ethey's scarlet ribbon, a somehow cute yet macabre little trinket. "I swear, when I walked by the kitchen this morning, the smell alone may have been enough to make me gain five pounds."

"I must admit that I'm looking forward to seeing how the culinary arts have advanced over the years," the king said.

He eats food? Fluttershy thought. She didn't know why this came to her as a revelation. Of course he did. He wasn't a vampire. He wasn't a ghoul. Whether or not he was a monster was still up for debate, however.

The feast hall was bustling with cooks and servants who ran about in a frenzied panic to have things ready for the king and queen upon their arrival. It was a large room, much like the front lobby. The roof high above featured an incurved stained crystal dome, the rays of the morning light filtering through it into vivid streams of scarlet and jade and amber. A soft red carpet extended from the entrance of the parlor. It ran the full length of the room, betwixt two rows of long wooden benches, and ended before a large, ebony dais. The steps were shiny like black polished marble, and atop it loomed two large chairs: one black as pitch, and the other a light, feminine blue. Their material looked soft and warm to the touch, like fleece or velvet. Fluttershy gawked at the decadent blue chair. "Is that my throne?" she wondered, the thought of being a queen still so alien to her. Sitting atop that royal dais, she'd be so high above everyone else, with the exception of her king. It was such a strikingly gorgeous thing to look upon with its blues and polished wood and gold trim. If truth be told, it looked more like a work of art than it did a mere place for her to park her rump.

A deep hum that almost sounded like an amused chuckle reverberated from the king's throat. "No, little dove, that is not your throne. It is merely a place for you to relax and enjoy your meals. I promise to build for you a proper throne that will far exceed the quality of that pitiful thing you see there... Although, I must admit, I like the color." He looked down at her. "It will bring out the sapphire in your eyes."

Little dove? The endearment made Fluttershy feel strange. "I like your chair as well?" she attempted. "It brings out the color of your..." Soul?

"Coat," Ethey coughed helpfully.

"Coat," Fluttershy repeated with a nod.

Sombra hummed apathetically. "You are too kind." He led Fluttershy through the throngs of terrified servants. They were throwing themselves down the moment they noticed them. One cook was so fraught that she must have forgotten she was transporting a platter of food. She threw herself before the king, and dozens of sweets were scattered as the shiny dome-shaped platter cover rolled away. Fluttershy's senses honed in on the most intoxicating scent that had ever graced her sinuses, and she suddenly realized how ravenous she was. Sombra placed his hoof under the prostrated girl's chin and guided her gaze to meet with his. "There is a special place in Tartarus for those who waste food." He admonished. "Remember that well, lass."

"I'll remember," the girl whimpered, her yellow, catlike eyes shimmering like liquid gold behind their veil of terror-induced tears. She was a bat pony. A rare site in the Chrystal Empire.

"See that you do." The king left her there, sidestepping the sweets and continuing on toward the dais.

Fluttershy looked down at the mortified cook. She placed a sympathetic hoof on her shoulder. "Here," she offered, "let me help you clean this up."

Ethey tapped her on the back. "A queen does not sully her hooves with such menial tasks," she reminded her. "I'll get sompony to help her clean up, you go be with your king; it's your first meal together."

The cook wiped her eyes. "I'll be fine. I have another batch in the oven."

"There, you see that?" Ethey said. "She says she's fine."

"My queen?" Sombra called out to her. He was sitting on his haunches at the threshold of the dais. "Do hurry. I am famished, and I am willing to wager that you are as well." Fluttershy spared the cook one last glance before pushing herself on to meet with her king.

They ascended the steps together, higher and higher, until they reached their destination. Sombra lifted Fluttershy off her hooves and placed her upon her seat first. "Oh," she said, surprised by the sudden display of chivalry. "T-thank you." The king regarded her words with nothing more than a lazy hum of acknowledgment as he turned to his own seat. He traced the edge of his hoof along the chair's fine material, as if he was trying to decide if it was worthy of him. It was as if time itself stood still for everything and everyone but him. The queen, the adviser, the guards and all the servants watched and beheld their king as he took his place of authority. He leaned back against the cushioning, laid a bent elbow on the padded arm, then rested his head upon his hoof. Never had he looked so kingly than when he did this: The bored, almost contemptuous expression in his fearsome eyes, the bravado in his relaxed pose, his imposing size, everything about him seemed to scream authority; with his body language alone he commanded nothing but the utmost respect. One pony down below knelt, prompting another to do the same, which, in term, triggered a domino effect of frightened subjects who dared not risk an impertinent display of nonconformance.

Sombra sighed. "Enough with the supplication, already," he said, his mighty voice echoing through the feasting hall. "You've bent your knees enough for an entire life time. I am hungry."

A fine, lacquered table was set before the king and queen as the castle staff gathered at the benches down below. Ethereal Moon was seated at the king's right side, while a steward was assigned to the edge of the table to cater to the king's every beck and call. The bat pony chef Fluttershy had met earlier pushed a trolley piled high with platters and dishes to the edge of the dais. The steward, a strapping red headed Pegasus of fifteen, moved quickly down the dais on feathered wings to obtain one of the platters. He placed the dish on the table and removed the cover, liberating a tantalizing plume of steam that had been accumulating inside. Fluttershy salivated as she detected a hint of something akin to the intermingled aromas of cheese cake and pumpkin pie. The little rounded treats were a creamy orange color with swirls that spiraled into a nucleus of something white and sweet.

Sombra selected one, tasted it, then looked at the little morsel with an expression of fervent approval before inhaling it in one bite. "These are delectable."

"Those are my famous piping hot pumpkin cream cheese rolls," the chef called up to them from the foot of the dais. "Do they please, your majesty?"

"Indeed, they do." The king piled six more onto his plate and offered the rest of the platter up to his bride. "My queen, you must try these."

Fluttershy took a moment to balk at the image of her feared and terrible husband going at a plate of sweets like a child being introduced to candy for the first time. "Are they really that good?" She reached out and accepted it. One modest nibble was all it took for her to realize just how bland everything she had ever tasted was up to that point. "It- it's good. Really good." She devoured the rest of it in the most ladylike fashion she could manage. She was hungry. So hungry... And these treats were so delicious. Despite being taken away from her friends, despite being forced to marry, despite everything - she smiled. Her gaze moved to the chef who stood poised near the dais. "These are really yummy. I had no idea that something this tasty existed."

The chef's smile was ecstatic. "Oh, you're such a darling to say so!"

The young table steward was quick to whisk away the discarded platters when the king and queen were finished with them. He would then reappear just as swiftly with another course handed off to him by the chef. The mushrooms had been sauteed in garlic and butter, drizzled over with flecks of melting goat cheese, then finally topped off with freshly shredded spinach before being wrapped in a steaming hot crepe. There was a pyramid of them stacked high on a large rounded dish, accompanied with small cups filled with a sweet sauce to dip them in. Fluttershy couldn't remember a time when she had eaten half so well, and from the way her husband ate, neither could he. Her king's appetite was the fiercest thing she had witnessed in him yet. He was mopping up a reservoir of crepe residue on his plate with the last pumpkin roll when he gave the table steward a sideways glance. "Boy," he said, "Be a good lad and fetch your king some ale."

"Ale?" The ginger pegasus tilted his head. "My king, the sun has only barely risen."

"I did not ask for the time," the king replied. "I asked for ale."

"Ale?" There was a shriek of excitement, and the bat pony chef was suddenly hovering above the king's table, her black batty wings beating rapidly "Did you say ale!" Her exuberant smile revealed a pearly white snaggletooth that hooked over the corner of her bottom lip like a tiny fang. "Would you like to try some of mine? I have a few barrels of my signature Blood Moon. It was the favorite of the castle tavern back home. Best ale you will ever have! It will be worth more than gold some day!"

Sombra cocked an invested eyebrow. "Blood Moon?"

The chef nodded with the enthusiasm of one who loved nothing more than conversing over sweets and ales and other topics of culinary interest. "It's a specialty of mine. Well, more like my pride and joy: I use blood oranges instead of hops, and I ferment it with golden wheat instead of the traditional barley. I cure the yeast in honey, butter, and caramel to make it extra thick and malty. Or, if you'd like, I'm experimenting on a spiced pumpkin wine. 'Nevermore,' I said to myself one day, 'they make wine out of grapes, but why not pumpkins?' I love pumpkins, I mean, seriously, I'm obsessed with them. You can make so many yummy things out of them. I figured that it'd only be a matter of time before--"

"Enough." The king's eyes gleamed with fascination. "This Blood Moon ale of yours. I would try it. Bring it at once."

"Aye, my king!" the eccentric bat pony saluted before she twisted about on her black wings, and then she was off.

Ethereal Moon's amethyst aura of magical energy enveloped a pitcher on the table. "My king," she said, her horn twinkling as she conducted the pitcher above her glass. "Shall I get them?" She pushed her glasses up her muzzle, and the pitcher began tip, filling her cup with a stream of ice cold goats milk.

Fluttershy was just settling into her seat with her stomach set to bursting when she heard her husband respond, "Neigh. The time is nigh, but not yet upon us. I will present them to her after everyone has filled their bellies, and not a second before."

The adviser attacked a particularly large crepe on her plate. Its contents spilled out of the opening on the other side as she bit into it. "Very well," she said, frowning down at the crepe's evasive innards.

Fluttershy pondered the meaning of the exchange, but it was quickly forgotten. It was difficult to focus while watching the ponies down below feasting and congregating. It evoked a memory of her having pancakes with her friends in Twilight's castle. Something warm and wet ran down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and swallowed the sudden surge of emotion; crying wasn't going to do her any good. It would only attract attention to herself, and that was the last thing she needed.

The bat girl returned to the dais with a wooden box between her front hooves. In her company was a hulking earthpony who had a barrel lashed to his back. The brute painstakingly slogged it up the stairs, his knotted muscles bulging with every step. He undid the brass buckles of the straps over his chest with a loud leathery rasp, and the barrel rolled off his side and crashed to the ground. Without hesitating he bowed, turned, and made for a retreat, as if to escape before he could be noticed. The bat pony fluttered to the king's side and placed her wooden box on the ground next to the keg. The latches sang with a metallic cadence when she flicked them up, then she lifted the lid to reveal a row of broad rimmed cups that looked like clear glass bowls sitting on stems. Each one looked big enough to hold a pint. There was also a leather sleeve sewn in to the under part of the lid, which housed two silver rods.

The king sat back in his seat and steepled his hooves over his chest. "Nevermore," he said, watching her as she worked. "Is that your name?"

"Aye," the bat pony replied, screwing the two threaded silver rods together. When joined, one end of the device was a tapered spigot, and the other end was pointed like the tip of a stake.

"A dark name for such a chipper personality," Ethey commented.

"I know, right?" Nevermore giggled a strange little giggle as she punched the sharp end of the rod into the lower portion of the keg. The device had turned out to be a tap. "What were my parents thinking?" She drew one of the bulbous glasses from the wooden box and commenced to filling it. It was no longer a wonder as to how the ale got its name. A rivulet of blood red fluid drank in the light from all around it as it filled the rounded glass. She filled it until a layer of golden froth foamed over the rim, the crimson inside sparkling like a ruby whenever the light kissed it. Nevermore sniffed at it before taking an experimental sip. She shuttered euphorically, wings twitching, spine tingling. "It's perfect!" she said, like a mad scientist upon finding the cure for mortality. "Best batch yet!" She placed it on the table for Sombra to take. "And I dare say that it's fit for a king."

"We shall see." The king wrapped his foreleg about the stem of the glass, lifted the wide bowled rim to his lips, and drank deep.

Nevermore bit her lower lip, looking like she could go mad with anticipation. "What do you think?"

"Exquisite," said the king. "I'll have another glass. One for my bride, as well."

"Oh, I, n-no, thank you," declined Fluttershy, who had never had a taste for beer of any kind, be it lager, ale, wheat, stout, sour, or porter.

"Pity," the king said. "This ale is divine."

Fluttershy had never truly comprehended the meaning of the expression 'The King's Portion' until she saw how much food and ale her husband could put away. He must have consumed half of the keg, and she speculated that the amount of crepes and pumpkin rolls he devoured was more than she and all her friends back home could eat combined. After her husband tipped the rim of his last cup against his lips and drained that red ale he had loved so much, he sank back into his chair with a deep sigh of satisfaction. He was quite for a very long time.

"Are you okay?" Fluttershy asked, no longer able to bare the silence. She was beginning to wonder if he fell asleep.

"Little dove," the king began, opening his eyes to look out at nothing of particular interest. "I am more okay than you could possibly imagine." He turned to look at her, dark eyes pale and barren of all emotion. Fluttershy had never seen such a haunted expression. "A thousand years... No food to fill my belly, forever hungry. No sleep to soothe my weariness. Perpetually alone, the only feeling being that of the icy gales cutting into me as I roamed relentlessly from place to place as naught but a shadow." He closed his eyes again and rested back in his chair. "This is my first meal since then. I am more than okay, my queen. I'm simply rapturous."

That was a response Fluttershy wasn't expecting. "Wait, you don't mean your thousand year banishment, do you? You... You were conscious the whole time?"

The king stretched in his chair and, instead of answering her, he said, "Ethey, the time is now."

The little adviser had long since finished eating, and was now busying herself with the painting of her hooves. She extended a foreleg to inspect her work, revealing a freshly polished hoof that gleamed like a shiny black crystal. "Yes, my king." She blew on her hoof a couple times to ensure that it was dry, pushed her glasses up her muzzle, then stepped down from her seat. "I'll meet you lovebirds down on the floor." And then she descended the steps. The king followed her with his red eyes until she exited the feasting hall. He sighed once more with a contented hoof over his belly, hardened his expression, pulled himself from his seat. And just like that, he was Sombra again; large, brooding, sneering, cold, and terrifying. "Come, my bride," he said, waiting for her at the head of the stairs. "It is time."

"Time for what?" Fluttershy had to ask.

"It is time for you to receive your royal wedding gifts. I would bestow them upon you in front of our subjects, so that they will know you as my queen and theirs, supreme and undisputed."

Those were two words that had never been used to describe Fluttershy. Shy and unobtrusive, maybe, but supreme and undisputed? She sighed and hopped down from her seat. What was she going to do, say no?

"Walk proudly," the king demanded. "You slouch and shuffle like you're being walked to the gallows. You're a queen now, and you shall conduct yourself as such."

Fluttershy sighed again, corrected her posture, then continued on. I am a queen, wed to Sombra, the darkest king in Equestrian history, She reminded herself, doubting she'd ever get used to the title. She dutifully fell in beside her husband and they descended the stairs together. The steward glided to the foot of the dais to meet them brandishing a large bugle. He placed his lips on the mouthpiece and let loose with one mighty blast. The startled eyes of every subject snapped to the direction of the noise.

Sombra's icy glare washed over them in wave of petrified silence. "I trust your meal was a pleasant one," he began. There was no need for him to even raise his voice to make it be heard, for it was so deep and resonating that it echoed off the walls of the large parlor. He began a slow, methodical pace down the red carpet, between the rows of tables, where his loyal and terrified subjects were seated. The ponies seated near the edge of the benches would shrink back when the king walked past them. One of them was a little girl who dropped her patchwork rag doll in her fright. She made to reclaim it, but her mother pulled her back and locked her in a protective embrace. Fluttershy, unsure of what to do, just stood at the foot of the stairs and listened to her husband's speech. "To serve me will be a privilege. Every meal shall be a banquet, and every income shall be a fortune, this I promise you. I only ask for your fealty. A small fee, is it not?"

Some of the ponies were whispering to each other at this point. Most were wide eyed and attentive. Children clung to their parents and the parents clung to their children.

"Fealty," the king continued. "A word that means none to most, but everything to some. Fealty, to me, is like currency, which you shall all pay me, and in return, I offer you protection and rewards beyond your wildest imaginations." Sombra stopped when he reached the end of the rows, then he turned and raised a powerful hoof in a gesture of absolution. "It is with your fealty that I shall extend my reach across this wild, inhospitable land. The brigand's hook is mine, and soon it will be all of yours! Make no mistake, my loyal subjects, I am here to conquer. I will kill every last warlord who dare lay their claim to your land, and I will destroy every manner of savage who roam it in search of their next victim. I will lay siege to their keeps, I will burn their fields, I will destroy their ports, I will kill their petty lords, and my dominion will extend across this land, and we will together forge a great nation that Celestia and her intrepid band of pompous Alicorns could only dream of! All who seek shelter within my halls, my cities, my castles, need only pledge their fealty." The king began to pace toward the dais. He stopped and observed the doll on the ground the little girl had dropped. He swept it up with his hoof, observed its button eyes, its stitched smile, its ripped seam at the end of its leg. An aura of black light began to glow around the tear, and the wounded cloth mended itself shut. The king then held the doll out for the filly to take. "The feasting hall is no place for toys, sweetling."

The mother cautiously allowed the child to reach out and take her doll, as if the king could at any moment strike like a venomous snake. "You fixed her," the filly said, looking down at the hoof where the rip had been. She held her toy out for her mother to see. The mare, clutching her child again, bowed her head in silent thanks.

Sombra acknowledged her with the slightest dip of his head before he swept his gaze out to all in attendance. "For those of you who would deny me the pleasure of your loyalty," the went on, "you are free to leave."

There were clusters of ponies within the crowd that broke into murmurs.

"You are not chattel. You are builders, artists, laborers, workers who shall help me build my kingdom. I promise that no chain or fetter shall be clapped on you as I draw breath. All of you who have come, you came of your own free will. I'm sure Celestia offered you some sort of severance, or promised you some kind of reward upon your return once the repairs and renovation of this home is finished. It is by your free will that you have come, and it is by your free will that you will leave. I would beseech thee all, come to me if you ever grow weary of the rewards that service to me has brought you, and I shall arrange for a carriage to take you back to your precious Crystal Empire, where Celestia shall rule over you once more. This offer comes with no expiration."

There were ponies in the crowd who's eyes were now flashing with the hope of new opportunity. Some of them may have been desperate for the chance of a fresh start. There were pessimists in the crowd as well, who shook their heads or traded hushed proclamations of skepticism with their neighbors.

Sombra sauntered his way up the carpet, stopped at the dais, and then took his spot next to his queen. Fluttershy could feel his large hoof on her shoulder. He pulled her in a little closer and announced, "However, I can not do this alone, for a king is no proper king without a queen to rule at his side, and I have chosen the fairest of them all. She made a king of me, and I made a queen of her. And it is with these gifts I bestow upon her, that I wish to express my affection and eternal gratitude. Come ye all, lendeth every eye unto me and bare witness the gifts I bestow upon my bride."

Ethereal Moon had not made a sound when she entered the room, for when Fluttershy finally noticed her, she was Sitting atop two levitating cedar chests that had been lashed together. She floated them down the hall and landed before the king and queen and all their subjects. She broke her telepathic link with the containers, then began a new one with the tapped keg at the top of the dais. "Nevermore," she sang, placing the keg gingerly on the floor before her, "be a dear and help me fill some cups, so that we may toast our king and queen."

The wild eyed bat pony was leaning against the side door of the hall which served as an entrance to the kitchens. It was with all the gusto in the world that she began skimming over the tables, gathering mugs and cups and horns as she flew.

Fluttershy blinked her blue eyes in silent disbelief at the ponies all gathering around to pay homage to her. Her gaze would flash from her husband to the crowd. She hadn't realized up this point how big a role she played in Sombra's plans up till now. I made him a king? She thought. The proclamations he had just made, the impassioned speech, the declarations of love. He seemed so off kilter to the Sombra she read about.

Nevermore filled cup after cup and Ethereal Moon gathered them up to pass around to everyone. The king's horn glowed and the first chest opened. He drew from it a light blue cape that shimmered and flowed with every movement. The queen could feel her king draping it down her back, its fine, cool material contouring to every curve of her form as it flowed down her sides like the bluest of waters. The platinum clasp clicked effortless about around her neck. The queen could then feel her husband's hooves working their way up to her shoulders. "What say you?" he said to a stallion in the crowd. "Is she not the pinnacle of regality?"

The stallion Sombra had pointed to was one of the smilers who seemed tempted by Sombra's offer of protection and plenty within his walls. The stallion stepped forward and accepted a cup from Ethey. "Aye, sire," he said, with only the slightest twinge of nervousness in his tone. "Cadence herself couldn't hold a candle to her."

Sombra scoffed. "And if she tried, the wax would simply melt, so warm is our queen's radiance." The quip scored a few chuckles and sighs from the crowd. Fluttershy could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She wasn't used to being doted over so much.

The next gift was a ponderous one: a curved piece of something that looked like burned iron. Fluttershy wasn't sure what to make of it. "Uhm," she said, still nervous from all the attention she was getting, "w-what is it?"

Everyone in the throng looked to Sombra for the answer. "Dragonbone," he said. "The remains of a beast I slayed a millennia ago." He levitated the object for all to see. "This was a section of its jaw, which was dashed upon impact with mine hoof."

"You expect us to believe that you killed a full grown dragon with your bare hooves?" A castle guard challenged from the crowd. "What are you going to tell us next? That you traveled with a company of breezies to find it? Was there a magic moon door that could only be opened by the light of the full moon?" Two other guards sprang forth to restrain him. One clasped his hoof over his comrades mouth before another sarcastic remark could come tumbling out of it.

"There was no 'moon door' that I can recall." Sombra said reflectively. "And I did not find the dragon. The dragon found me... But that is a tale for another time. It will make a good song for the children."

"You're giving me a dragon's bone?" Fluttershy wondered.

"Aye," said Sombra, "but it is so much more than that." The ponies in attendance awaited an explanation, but Sombra must have seen it fit to show them what he meant instead of simply telling them. "Behold." His eyes glowed, redder, hotter than they ever had before. "Dragonbone," he winced, "It's the damnedest thing." He barred his fangs. A drop of sweat ran down from his scalp. Ponies swiveled and oscillated as the ground below them vibrated from the intensity of the arcane force that was necessary to mold dragonbone like clay. The enamel went from red, to white hot, until finally liquefying and melting away into a searing puddle of white on the ground, leaving only the calcified alloy underneath. Veins in Sombra's head pulsed and pounded as the purified bone crunched, cracked, blazed, then began to take shape into a large glowing hot ring. He let out an exhale of relief when the deed was finally done. He espied the benches and grasped with his telepathy a pitcher of cool water. He poured it over the blazing hot ring, sizzling and hissing like a pot full of angry snakes, a cloud of steam enveloped the object. Sombra discarded the pitcher, fanned away the steam with a swirl of his cape, and he held the treasure the dragonbone had become - aloft for all to behold. It was ornamented beautifully, like polished silver, yet stronger than the strongest of steels. It reflected the light from the crystal dome up on high with a ripple of iridescent luster.

Fluttershy beheld the object glowing in her husband's magic light. It was a crown, much like his, only smaller and far more beautiful. He stood behind her and placed it gently atop her brow. "Now, you are a true queen," he whispered in her ear. His horn glittered, and the enamel that had puddled on the floor began to stand and form, rippling like milk, then hardening into a polished surface of the purest ivory. Fluttershy bore witness to her reflection, unable to identify the mare she saw in the mirror.

"Long live the queen," Sombra said.

"Long live the queen!" Nevermore's glass collided with Ethey's, and the two mare's drank deep from their cups.

The audience looked around and murmured and whispered, until finally, "Long live the queen," broke from the lips of someone in the crowd. The stallion who had compared Fluttershy's beauty to Cadence's was lifting his mug.

"Long live the queen," others were joining in, lifting their mugs then drinking.

"Long live the queen." it became a chant. "Long live the queen!" It was now a cadence. It echoed off the walls, through every room of the mansion.

"Sombra turned her around and kissed her for all to see. He didn't savage her with an opened mouth as he had done before. With soft lips, a gentle touch, and a sweet caress, it was a true kiss. His lips then brushed her ear, and he whispered, "Long live the queen."

The Darkness Rising

The wooden monoliths that were the book cases of Sombra's library stretched several stories tall. Thousands upon thousands of books, scripts, and tomes lay in disorganized piles, while others that had been logged and alphabetically categorized were neatly stacked and set aside to be shelved. Fluttershy, being the founder of the only interspecies book club in Equestria, had always been a bit of a bibliophile, and she was given free reign of the house while Sombra busied himself in the overseeing of some of the home's projects. The library was a perfect respite for her. It was closed off for everyone but her and her king until its disposition was complete. It was there that she could wrap herself in her blanket of solitude, to shield herself from the prying eyes of her subjects. The attention she was receiving conjured unpleasant memories of when she was a model for Photo Finish - only worse. Ponies then only wanted her autograph or a picture taken with her; they weren't calling her a queen, or kneeling before her, or drinking to her name. She wanted so badly to just run away from it all, to curl up in a small, dark corner and simply cease to be - but since that wasn't an option, the library was the next best choice.

Fluttershy singled out a book from a pile and examined its beautiful soft blue cover, its ornate gold trim, the fancy red ribbon that served as a bookmark. She opened it, decided it wasn't for her after reading a few paragraphs, then discarded it. How could such a beautiful-looking book be so boring? She scanned down a neatly stacked row of novels for something containing an intricately woven fantasy world in which she could escape the bitter woes of reality for a few hours: There and Back Again, Daring Doo and The Lusty Dragon Maid, Of Mice and Ponies, To Kill A Cockatrice, A Song of Wind and Water, Interview With The Bat Pony... Nothing. There was nothing in the pile that she hadn't either read a thousand times or simply couldn't be bothered with.

"Who goes?" A voice challenged. "I'm terribly sorry, but the library isn't open to the public yet."

"Oh!" Fluttershy said, startled. She whirled around and noticed an earth pony weaving through the book stacks. He had angled features, a neatly trimmed albeit long goatee, and a pair of circular gold-rimmed spectacles sitting at the end of his nose. His hair was parted perfectly down the middle, and it shined with the same gold intensity as the polished buttons on his formfitting waistcoat. "I'll, uh, I'll just come back later."

Upon hearing her voice, the stallion adjusted his glasses and squinted in Fluttershy's direction. "Oh, my apologies, I wasn't sure who you were." The stallion grunted as he was forced to crawl over a particularly large stack of unorganized literature to get to her. "I didn't know you were the queen. Are you here for an inspection?" He slid down the mountain of books, coming to a slow stop just before her. "Forgive me my rudeness, my queen. It's only me working here, but I'm making progress." The stallion fished a tube out of an old worn leather satchel he was wearing and drew from it a scroll. "These are the titles I've cataloged so far. I'm about an eighth of the way finished. As soon as the carpenters bring me more cases I'll start putting them away."

"Uhm..." Fluttershy scanned the calligraphic script that was the stallion's writing - its spidery slashes, its elegant swoops and hoops, It was so fancy that she was barely able to read it. "Impressive," she said.

"I'm glad you think so," said the librarian. "It took all night to catalog all these titles."

"Oh," Fluttershy said. "I, uh, was talking about your penmanship. You have very nice writing."

"Yes, I suppose." The stallion glimpsed his writing on the scroll before rolling it back up. "Which section would you like to inspect first?"

"I'm not here for an inspection," Fluttershy replied. I'm looking for an escape, she almost said. "I'm just looking for a little something that will help me pass the time."

"Any title or particular author that you're looking for?"

"No, just..." It was then that Fluttershy's eye glimpsed something. Among the large pile of books the librarian had just used as a slide, she found something that caught her sudden interest. The book was bound in old leather. The illustration on the cover was pitch black with a depiction of two burning green eyes. The title was marked in bright red ink, in an old equestrian style font. The words were artfully written out as if they were consumed in flames: The Darkness Rising. It was an old story based on Sombra's rise to power and his ultimate defeat at the hooves of the princesses. For whatever reason it peaked the queen's interest. She could remember her and her brother clinging to each other in front of the fireplace as her mother read it to them when they were naught but foals. It was known through history as one of the darkest fairytales ever written. "I think I'll just browse around for a bit," Fluttershy said to the librarian.

"Alright, then." The stallion sighed as he looked over the desert that was his library, the voluminous dunes of uncatalogued literature he had yet to meticulously trudge through. "I have my work cut out for me. You're free to borrow any book you'd like, and, please, do give a holler if you need anything."

"I will, thank you." Fluttershy watched him until he disappeared around a book case. She plucked the book out from the pile with her teeth, and managed to find a secluded nook recessed in the wall high above. She would never have been able to reach it if not for her wings, for the latter that was once used to gain access to the lofty study had long sense succumbed to the ravages of time. The library, now that she could see it clearly, was a large circular room, with large panes letting in the sunlight through its upper most regions. It was up here that she had domain over the claustrophobic columns of cases that were spaced much too close to each other to accommodate all the knowledge they held. She turned to survey the small study which she decided would now be her sanctuary whenever she needed some time to herself. A small stained glass window filtered in the light from the sun just below the arched ceiling at the far end of the room. There were bronze candle sconces mounted to a wall over a wooden desk and stool that had withstood the test of time with their sturdy oaken frames. A neglected cast iron hearth was standing against the corner, covered in untold layers of soot and dust. This cozy little nook, fluttershy thought, felt so much like home. Once she dusted, swept, shoveled out the hearth, polished the desk, mounted some scented candles to those sconces, and laid down some rushes, maybe add a little circular table complete with a fruit bowl to close up the space in the center of the room, it would be perfect.

Fluttershy brushed away the layers of dust that had accumulated on the desk and set her book down. She pulled out the stool and took a seat. She then took a moment to examine the art work. She remembered it well from her childhood. The eyes in the illustration somehow seemed even more vicious than her husband's actually were. They looked more like snake eyes than anything else, with their thin irises. She turned the cover over and read the prologue:

It is in the birthing chamber, located deep within the bowels of the Crystal Castle, where this tale begins. The mother and current queen of the Chrystal Empire at the time, who had consorted with a thousand demons, spawned the creature that would be named Sombra. Sombra: the old Equestrian word for 'monster,' ripped his mother open, his teeth gnashing, his horn gouging, he tore his mother's womb open. Red eyes pierced through the darkness from the ruined corpse that once was the queen, and It was there that the grieving king looked on in horror at what his demon-loving bride had wrought.

Fluttershy lost count of all the hours she had spent at that desk. When the light behind the stained glass window became too dim for her to read by, she located the librarian and had him bring her some tallow and tinder. It was by the glow of the candles mounted to their bronze sconces that she had reached the fairytale's epilogue.

And so, it had come to pass that Sombra was defeated at the hooves of the divine sisters. Too weak to move, too injured to fight, he laid there and awaited the finishing blow to fall down upon him. Celestia looked on him with pity and offered him one last chance to reform his ways. He needed only repent for all the suffering he had wrought, and all would be forgiven. Remorse, however, was an emotion that was lost on the beast. So consumed with seething black hatred was his heart, that there was simply no room for anything else. Sombra spat Celestia's offer back in her face and cursed her for a whore, and by doing so, he sealed his fate.

Fluttershy closed the book. She looked up and focused on the flame dancing on the wick of the candle, its glowing aura expanding and contracting in a hypnotic rhythm. Her experiences with the king challenged every preconceived notion she had about him. It was difficult to separate fact from fiction - myth from monster... There was one thing she knew though, beyond the shadow of a doubt. She clamped the book firmly between her teeth, held it over the flame of the candle, then threw it as it burned in to the hearth.

It's absolute nonsense.

Abandoning Fear

The bathing pools beneath Sombra's manse reminded Fluttershy of the spa she used to frequent with her friend Rarity. The water, which was heated through a channel of volcanic vents that flowed deep withing the surrounding mountains, was drawn and then pumped through a nozzle that served as a faucet. The tub itself was a bowl-shaped recess in the ground with a stone bench carved out of its walls. The light looming above her was magic in nature, a ball of luminous energy that flickered and glowed like a indigo star hanging in the twilight. Fluttershy liked the way it made the water glow as it swished and swirled all about her, the pressured flow from the spout creating pleasant sounds akin to that of a gurgling stream.

Fluttershy reached for her glass of sweet red and took a sip from it before she allowed herself to sink back to her muzzle in the hot, rushing mineral waters of her bath. Wine was something that she was beginning to acquiring a taste for. Supper with her king and subjects had been yet another sumptuous feast. Nevermore had served them a delicious creamy cheese and broccoli chowder as an appetizer, followed by the main course, which was an exotic and decadent pasta whose name she still had trouble pronouncing. Sombra had taken advantage of the time they had together to teach her about wine and its variety of bouquets. He taught her how to identify them from their scent. After several tiny samples of different wines, she had come to the realization that the lighter sweets were to her liking. Her husband seemed to be pleased by that.

The young queen watched her long, pink tresses swirl lazily along the surface of the water as she pondered on about her king and husband. It was strange to see how the servants were already beginning to warm up to him. A few of them even had the temerity to call out to him and lift their mugs as he would pass them by in the feasting hall. They were making eye contact with him now, instead of groveling and prostrating like they had done that morning and the night before. It had appeared that her king had forged a bond with some of them while he was overseeing their projects. Fluttershy, however, had spent the entire day in the library, consumed with her self-appointed task of gaining more knowledge about him. The fairy tale she had relived evoked such a fierce curiosity within her. The rest of the free time she had was spent scouring the library for more information, but her attempts were in vain. She found naught but passages and accounts of her husband doing things she doubted he would do. All of it just seemed like arbitrary acts of barbarism and madness, which seemed to serve no means. Sombra was indeed a terrifying creature, and he certainly had the capacity for cruelty in his heart, but she couldn't bring herself to believe he would simply be cruel for the sake of being cruel; unlike another creature of chaos with whom she was acquainted, Sombra seemed the type to employ logic and order to his actions.

"My queen?" Came a familiar voice.

"Ethey?" Fluttershy sat up and turned to face the entrance to the bathing pool, though it was impossible to see through the thick veil of steam that had accumulated within the chamber.

"Are you enjoying your bath?" The tip of Ethey's horn flickered like a lantern in the fog as she drew closer.

"I am," Flutterhy replied. "I was just getting ready to get out."

"There's no need to rush." The adviser stepped through the opaque shroud and stood at the edge of the pool. "I just wanted to check on you. You've been down here for a while now."

"How long has it been?"

"An hour, or so."

"It's been that long?" Fluttershy drew her hooves above the water and observed how pruney they had become.

Ethey looked up at the shining blue orb looming over the tub. "I don't blame you for losing track of time." She paused, admiring the soothing atmosphere. "It's nice down here. I wish the servants' bathing quarters was this nice."

Fluttershy climbed out of the pool, her sodden coat clinging to her lithe, feminine frame. "You can use the pool whenever you like." She selected a thick woolen towel from a rack mounted to a nearby pillar.

"You're sure that's okay?" Ethey reached down and swirled the surface of the water with her hoof.

"It would seem rather selfish to keep something this luxurious all to myself."

"What about the king?" Ethereal Moon pushed her glasses up her muzzle with an impish smile on her face. "You could share it with him."

The unexpected comment made Fluttershy blush. She attempted to pretend she didn't hear it, but the tips of her reddening ears betrayed her.

Ethey acknowledged Fluttershy's body language with a knowing smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to embarrass you." She looked at her with those piercing amethyst eyes of hers. They were bright with laughter - and the magical light above the pool seemed to intensify their vividity. "But you know, when you blush, it's freaking adoracute."

Fluttershy draped the towel over the back of her neck. "A-adoracute?"

"Yeah, you know, like, adorable and cute all at the same time?" She flicked a strand of her blue black mane that had managed to liberate itself from her skull ribbon. "It's a portmanteau."

Fluttershy just blinked.

"Like... 'Bad' and 'wrong?' I'm making you feel awkward right now, so I combine the words. Making you feel uncomfortable is both bad and wrong. Therefore, it's 'badong.'"

Fluttershy blinked again. "Badong?"

Ethey tittered. "You said badong."

A smile began to tug at the corners of Fluttershy's lips.

"See that?" Ethey said. "Now you're being adoracute again."

The smile on Fluttershy's face finally broke free. "You're silly."

"And you're adoracute."

Fluttershy finished drying herself off and donned her royal attire while she prattled on and laughed with her adviser. Ethey, though strangely dark in her sense of humor, was cheerful, and a delight to converse with. The childlike mare was in possession of a fun-loving yet, somehow, nihilistic personality that made it difficult to tell when she was kidding or being serious. It was because of this unique trait that Fluttershy had decided to bestow upon her the title of 'Anti-Pie.'

"Anti Pie?" Ethey echoed as they ascended a row of stairs that led away from the bathing pool.

Fluttershy nodded. "I have this friend named Pinkie Pie back home. She's funny and fun to be around - kind of like you... Only opposite."

Ethey cocked an eyebrow. "Pinky Pie, that's her name?"

"You would love her," Fluttershy promised. "She'd love you as well. So much so in fact, she would most likely throw you a party."

"I don't do parties, or cuteseneras, or social gatherings of any kind, really."

"That's why you're the Anti-Pie," Fluttershy explained. "She would throw you a party whether you wanted one or not, though. She always puts together parties to mark the occasion of making a new friend, complete with a massive cake, and streamers, and all sorts of crazy games. I have no doubt that she'd even go so far as to dress up like a clown to entertain you."

"Clowns!" Ethey's muzzle wrinkled in disgust. "If any creature on this planet was deserving of a holocaust being inflicted upon them, it would be the paste-faced, rainbow wig-wearing excrement known as the clown. It would be forever known as the great clownocaust, and it would be the brightest chapter in Equestrian history."

"I, uh, take it you don't like clowns?"

"Only the dead ones."

Fluttershy was thinking of a way to inquire upon her adviser's extreme case of coulrophobia when a faint voice in the distance caught her attention.

"Are you stupid, or are you just going senile?"

Ethey and Fluttershy shared a quick glance. The voice sounded like it was coming from the foyer just up ahead.

"There's nothing for me back at the Crystal Empire," came a second voice, which was heavily distinguishable with a harsh, gravely rasp.

"And what about the princess? You're just going to turn your back on her?"

"She's the one who turned her back on me!"

"Sounds like a fight," Ethey said in a hushed tone.

Fluttershy bit her lip. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was confrontation. When they reached the door at the end of the stairs, Ethey carefully pushed it open just enough to provide a crack she could peek through. She turned and silently gestured for Fluttershy to join her. She didn't like eavesdropping, but she could feel her curiosity getting the better of her.

There were three of them, donned in the gilded garb of Celestia's royal guard. The fourth, the only one not in armor, was an elderly stallion with a long, unkempt mop of silver hair. He was a graying Pegasus with a heavily wrinkled brow, a deep scar on his muzzle, pronounced cheekbones, and a physically fit profile that made him seem younger than he probably was. There was a fearsome yet world-weary look in his golden eyes that was common with those who possessed a lifetime's worth of hard-honed experience. "Those were the guards who escorted us along the pass," Ethey whispered.

The stallion who had balked at Sombra's story that morning of how he had managed to slay a dragon was among them. "I'll ask you again," he said, "are you stupid, or are you just going senile?"

The old stallion bristled. "I refuse to go back just to be stripped of everything I have ever worked for. Fifty years of faithful service. Fifty!" he spat.

"You'd rather spend your twilight years in the service of some maniac torn from the chapters of the dark ages, instead of retiring honorably?" The younger guard accused.

"You know as well as I do that this land needs order," The elder fired back. "Celestia has turned a blind eye on the suffering of those who dwell within the peninsula. There are no leaders here. No political figures. There's nothing but brigands, and squabbling warlords, and the poor souls caught in between. There's no one to quarter with over the condition of this place. Even if Celestia tried to extend her rule to this land, which she hasn't, how would she do it? Her diplomatic approach just wouldn't work... Sombra, he may seem like a monster, but I believe he has the right of things. Sometimes, it takes a monster to kill a monster."

"So," said the younger guard, his eyes narrowed with contempt, "war is the answer. That what yer on about?"

"Sometimes it is!" argued the elder. "You can't quarter with someone who just wants to kill you and sell your family into slavery!"

The two stallions stared each other down. "Fine," the younger stallion finally said, breaking the silence. " Have it your way, then. I'll be sure to personally relay to Prince Shining Armor and Princess Cadence your declaration of treason."

"Treason," The elder scoffed.

"Treason," the younger repeated. "And you better hope you never run into me on the wrong side of the battlefield, old man."

"Alright, I've had enough of this crap." Ethereal Moon grunted. Fluttershy nearly fell forward when the tiny mare threw the door open. "Battle?" She said, storming into the manse foyer with all the piss and vigor in the world in her tone. All eyes were on her now. "Tell me, o holder of the spear, who stands so staunchly in front of ye old privy as Cadence shits, have you ever seen battle in your lifetime?"

"Piss off, midget!" The guard snapped.

"Mind your tone, boy," The elder cautioned. "She's the royal adviser."

"Adviser? That little half-mare?" The guard laughed derisively. "She's nothing but an upjumped stewardess."

Ethey smiled sardonically and replied, "And you're nothing but a glorified security guard with grandiose delusions of self importance. Oh, but please, do talk more about battle. I'd love to hear about it from an expert such as yourself."

The young guard's face reddened. "I may have never seen true battle, but I have been trained by the finest—

"Oh, bitch please, I've seen wet nurses with more combat training than you."

Fluttershy watched the exchange escalate until she could bare it no longer. She was a queen now, wasn't she? She could end the bickering with a simple command, couldn't she? She had never truly thought of herself as more than the weak and helpless little mare she had always been, but... Biting her lip, she timidly moved forward, forcing her hooves to move one after the other. "Uhm, if all of you could be so kind as to stop quarreling, I'd be most—

"You were nothing but a stewardess until Cadence got sick of you!" the younger guard was roaring by that point. "You sucked so bad at your job, she couldn't put up with you anymore, so she sent you here! I'm surprised the princess, in all her good judgement, didn't just pack you up and ship you off to some grotesquerie - or the very least, some whore house that caters to the grotesque enthusiast."

Ethey's expression was that of mock sincerity. "Oh, speaking of whores, how is your sister?"

"Leave my sister out of this, you freaky little garden gnome!"

The air was so thick with strife, it was palpable. "Please," Fluttershy attempted, "everyone, there must be friendlier ways to settle your differences—

"If you mock the adviser one more time, you'll be forcing my hoof, you impudent little pup!"

"I'm begging you all, please sto—

Another guard in the group finally spoke up. "You fall in the same category, old man. Cadence has no need for an over-the-hill warhorse like you. You'd just be a burden on the taxpayers, anyway."

"I'm just as spry as I ever was, you little shit!"

Fluttershy could feel a panic attack coming on. She felt it in her chest and in her gut. The air around her felt thick, and her eyes were beginning to water. Just as she was about to give up and go look for somewhere safe to hide, perhaps her cozy little nook in the library, where she would be out of earshot and out of sight of the squabbling - a thought came to her. It was something she never thought she'd ask herself: What would Sombra do? Or, at the very least, what would Sombra have her do? She looked down at her reflection in the polished tile floor and imagined that she could see her king standing by her, watching, waiting to see how she would act. She could practically hear his voice in her head.

Walk proudly. You're a queen now, never forget that.

I'm a queen now... I'm a queen now... She wiped her eyes and repeated the mantra to herself. Her velvety blue cape fluttered out like blooming peacock feathers as she forced her wings to open. Her hooves left the ground and she moved to hover above the squabbling quintet. Her heart was pounding nervously. She needed to speak before her courage abandoned her. She took a brief moment to imagine once again Sombra watching her. You're a queen now, she could hear him say. Never forget that. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and she let her voice be heard. "All of you, be silent this instant!"

The old guard and even Ethey looked startled as their eyes went up to meet hers. "At once, my queen," said the old stallion with a dutiful bow of his head.

Ethey's eyes were wide with shock. She pushed her glasses up her muzzle and stammered, "B-by your command, your grace."

Th-they stopped... Fluttershy thought, nonplussed. I shouted for them to stop. And they stopped. There was a feeling growing in her chest just then, a kind of warmth. This must be what pride feels like.

"Oh, pack it in," challenged the younger guard. "You don't command me."

Fluttershy couldn't stop now. She was on a roll. She needed to act while the heat was in her blood. She tucked in her wings and landed so gracefully in between the circle of verbal combatants that she barely made a sound. The queen thrust a commanding hoof mere inches from the rebellious guard's muzzle and said, "You're standing in my house. You're under my roof. And while you're here, I am your queen, and you will do as I say, or you will find yourself explaining to Sombra your reason for disobeying me." Her own words sounded alien to her. They were harsh - but they felt necessary. The rebellious stallion would most likely not have listened to her unless he was given stringent incentive to do so.

The young guard did what he could to maintain his dignity with a defiant glare, but the submission in his body language was plain to see. "Fine," he acquiesced. "I was done here anyway."

"What do you mean?" asked Fluttershy.

"We're heading out." The guard looked to the other two in his company. "Come on, guys. If we leave now without a caravan slowing us down, we should be back at the Crystal Empire by sunrise." He looked at his former comrade and added, "I'd be surprised if this stubborn old goat isn't dust by then."

"Are you sure that's wise?" The elder said, in a way that sounded like he was more amused than concerned. "The peninsula nights are blistering cold, and don't forget the windchill factor, if you're planning on flying all the way there. There's the occasional rogue or highwayman to consider, as well."

The three guards broke into mocking laughter. "Old man, have you forgotten who we are?" one of them said. "We're Cadence's elite royal guard. The day we can be overwhelmed by a band of petty savages is the day I would turn in my helm."

"You won't have to bother," said Ethey. "The savages will take your head right out form under it, then keep it as an ornate chamber pot."

"Ethey," Flutterhy intervened in a mild tone, "there's no more to be said here." She turned to the group of guards and said, "If you wish to leave, then you may leave. Stay warm, and travel safely."

The younger guard, who seemed to be the highest ranking of the three, bowed his head in a mock gesture of respect. "Yes, your highness." It was as much as he dared in retribution for his chastisement, for it was obvious that he feared a more forthright insult may land him in audience with the king. He spun about on his hooves to face his company, adjusted his helm, barked a command. The other two guards saluted and fell in a practiced triangular formation behind him, their hooves marching in a synchronized cadence. Before he pushed the heavy lobby doors open, he turned to his aging former subordinate. "Old man," he said, to which the elder regarded with an emotionless frown. They looked at each other for a long time. "I'm not going to tell Cadence about your defection. I'll simply tell her you went missing and we couldn't find you. You have quite the legacy back at home, and I'll admit that you earned it. I'm not going to take that away from you."

The elder's expression couldn't be more apathetic. "I won't be able to take my legacy with me when I die, boy," he rasped in his harsh, gravely tone. "What's important is how one lives their life. When you come to be my age, you'll realize that."

"So," Ethey said, watching the last guard shut the door behind him, "you're staying with us, then?'

"Yes. I believe so."

"Uhm," Fluttershy broke in. "sir, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything." The guard smiled as he stroked the stubble of his chin. "You are the queen, after all. Oh, and, uh, the name's Clash. Clash Steelsong. All that 'sir' and 'mister' stuff makes me feel old."

"Yes si— um... Clash..." Fluttershy would have to make a mental note of the stallion's request. Her parents raised her to always respectively refer to her elders as 'sir' or 'm'am'; she could already tell that it was going to be a difficult habit to break. "So," she said, "Mister Steelsong... Or - Clash. Sorry... Why is it that you don't wish to return home?" Extrapolating from what she had heard during the argument, she felt like she knew the reason, but she couldn't help but ask.

The elder sighed and explained, "When I received my orders to accompany and provide protection for the caravan heading out to the peninsula, I was given a letter, signed by Cadence herself, that informed me this would be my last task under her service, and I'm to be honorably discharged upon my return. I was so outraged that I ended up storming into the throne room, where I personally submitted my refusal to Princess Cadence. She showered me with compliments, thank yous, and apologies, but she ultimately insisted that it was time for me to go. I heard Sombra's speech this morning and, all the things he said - it just resonated with me. That was when I made my decision."

"That's understandable, I suppose," Fluttershy said thoughtfully. "But, if you don't mind me asking, why don't you want to retire?"

The guard offered his queen a sad smile and replied, "I was born and raised in an all boys military academy. I spent most of my life in Celestia's royal infantry, and when she had come to the presumption that I was too old for that, I was inducted into Cadence's royal guard and shipped off to the Crystal Empire. And now, The Princesses, in all their divine wisdom, think I'm too old for even that. The military life: the training, the discipline, the regiment, it's the only thing I've ever known. To just one day expect me to stop living the way I've always lived, to just give me the metaphorical boot and expect me to assimilate with the civilian populace... It's like trying to teach a fish to fly. Or, to be more accurate: It's like forcibly removing the fish from the pond, and telling it there's no longer a place for it there, and that it had better learn to fly if it expects to survive."

"I completely understand," Ethey put in. She placed a sympathetic hoof on the old stallion's arm and added, "I'll be sure to let the king know about all of this. I'm sure he'll make you the head of his guard in light of all your experience."

Clash regarded her with a thankful smile and said, "I think I'd rather be a drill instructor. Sombra is going to need guards and soldiers. He'll need somebody to train the new recruits, show 'em what's what." He turned his glossy golden eyes upward, as if he was hinting toward the presence of someone or something that the two mares hadn't been aware of. "Besides, I think he already knows."

Ethey and Fluttershy gave each other a curious glance before they turned their attention toward the direction in which the old stallion was looking, and it was there Sombra was standing, still as a gargoyle as he looked down on them over the polished railing of the second story balustrade. "Good evening," he bade - but no one replied.

How long has he been standing there? Fluttershy felt a jolting sensation run along her spine. It wasn't a feeling as visceral or unpleasant as terror. The utter lack of trepidation perplexed her somewhat. It felt more like suspense than anything else.

"I promised reward and remuneration for those who would pledge themselves to me," The king said, in that deep, methodical tone of his. "I plan to follow through with that promise... Clash Steelsong, is it?"

The old guard nodded. "It is, sir. Er - My King."

The king closed his eyes for a thoughtful moment. "A good name. A strong name..." His eyes opened. "Your experience would no doubt be an asset to me. Therefore, you shall henceforth wear the title of Master-At-Arms. You will be responsible for the regiment of my fighting force." He placed his hoof upon the railing and added, "Don't disappoint me."

The old guard bowed his head. A single tear of gratitude could be seen running along the trail of that hideous scar of his that ran from his eye and all the way down the tip of his muzzle. "Thank you, my king."

The king then turned his eyes to his queen. Fluttershy returned the gaze and wondered what he was thinking. It was no longer a wonder as to how she could so strongly feel his presence when she stepped up to end the quarrel between the guards and the adviser. "Lady Fluttershy," he said, in a tone that was almost gentle. There was the slightest ghost of a smile on his face. It was the first time he had addressed her by her name.

"Y-yes?" she said at once.

"I've never felt so proud to call you my queen."

Fluttershy had been complimented before. She had been told that she was cute, at least a million times. She had been told that she was kind, that she was a good singer, that she was sweet and caring, but it was the first time she had ever heard anyone say that they were proud of her. Not even her parents had ever given her that honor. She could feel the temperature in her cheeks beginning to rise.

"Now then," The king said, after a bout of silence that seemed to have lasted an eternity, "I'm off to bed. Won't you be joining me, little dove?"

"I'll, uh, be along in a bit?" Fluttershy replied, befuddled.

"Very good." He turned and seductively whipped his tail in a way that could be construed as to say 'don't keep me waiting' as he was off.

Fluttershy watched her husband saunter away, aware of the stinging sensation in her practically incandescent cheeks. She wasn't sure if it was the rush from earlier, or if it was from the realization that she was no longer afraid, but she was overcome with a strange kind of euphoria, which was now baffling her in the most pleasant way.

Taking Command

The long corridor that led to the bedchamber was awash in the tawny glow of the symmetrically set torches that lined the walls. The long carpet that ran along the stony floor was red and soft. Fluttershy liked the feeling of the firm material yielding under the weight of her hooves like a cushy pair of warm house slippers. She was also appreciative of the heat radiating from torches as they lit her way. When she had walked through this hall for the first time with her king, it was so dark and cold, she was just barely able to see her own breath billowing in front of her face. The image of the stone and mortar hallway bathed in the torchlight had an ambiance to it. It was like a vibrant illustration of the interior of a gothic castle. It held an eerie beauty that was to her liking, though she couldn't see herself traversing the hallway alone. Beautiful as it was, it was still creepy.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Ethey said. "It's almost like something out of a video game. You know what I mean, right? Like, you know how there's always a long hallway you have to go through right before arriving at the final boss? And the final bad guy is always doing something villain-ish, like, playing an organ, or sipping from a glass of wine, or something. What exactly do you think final bosses are doing to entertain themselves while they wait for the protagonist to get to them? I mean, one can only play an organ or sip wine with a menacing look on their face for so long until they get bored."

"I really couldn't say," Fluttershy admitted. "I'm not really into video games."

Ethereal Moon looked at her like she had three heads. "Really?"

"I have a younger brother who plays video games... At least, I think he does. He's one of those kinds of ponies who moves on to a new fad every week." Fluttershy wondered what her brother was doing at that very moment. She didn't want to talk about him, though. She felt that a conversation about her family would only succeed in leading her into a corner of longing and depression. "So, uhm..." She looked down at her long pink hair dragging across the floor as she thought of a topic to distract herself. "You were a stewardess back at the Crystal Castle?"

Ethey's eye twitched. "I was," she admitted, in a tone one might reply in after being intrusively inquired about a yeast infection.

"If it's a touchy subject, I won't press you."

"No, it's okay. It's just..." She stopped and grimaced down at her hooves. "It's just that, life wasn't so great for me back at the Crystal Castle."

Fluttershy stopped to look back at her. The sudden change in the adviser's demeanor made her curious. "What do you mean?"

Ethey gave a sigh. "I was a stewardess to Princess Cadence. That's all I was for the entirety of my employment under her, and that's all I was ever going to be. I would always drop little hints to let the princess know I was interested in perusing other things whenever a new position would become available: An opening in her council, a position in the treasury department, anything. I wanted more responsibility. I wanted more authority. I felt like I was squandering my talents with mundane tasks like serving Cadence her meals and brushing her hair. You know, things the spoiled little bitch could easily do for herself?"

The acid in Ethey's statement made Fluttershy flinch. "I'm sensing some animosity."

Ethey took another moment to glower down at the floor, her eyes reflecting an antipathy evoked from the recollection of hundreds of humiliating memories, until, with a sigh and a scowl, she picked herself up and continued her pace. Fluttershy fell in closely beside her to lend her scorned adviser an attentive ear. "She never took anything I said seriously," she vented. "She would always look down at me with that smile of reserved contempt of hers, and speak to me like a child. Sometimes I wonder if she even really knew how old I was. She would always say 'But what would I do without my favorite little stewardess by my side?' or some kinda crap like that. I don't know if she intentionally meant to piss me off with statements like that, but the way she'd always speak to me came off as condescending." A roguish grin began to tug at the corner of her lips. "That's why I made my decision. When Cadence started scouring her castle for a volunteer to serve as Sombra's adviser, I jumped at the opportunity. She had her reservations at first, but I was able to convince her. I won't delude myself into thinking she actually cared about my well being. Her only qualm about the situation came from her fear that offering Sombra one such as myself up for his adviser, who she most likely saw as a little imp fit for nothing more than being a court jester, would have been taken as an insult."

"You weren't scared?" Asked Fluttershy. "I mean, it was Sombra you were coming to work for, after all."

"Sure, I was a little scared. But I figured that serving as an adviser for Sombra had to be better than wriggling under the hoof of her royal bitchness for the rest of my life."

The queen focused her gaze toward the chamber door that was just coming into view through the shadowy depths of the hall and was surprised by how much ground she and her adviser had covered during their short conversation. She spoke quietly, as if she feared the off chance of her husband being able to hear her gossiping on about him. "You didn't seem scared when I first saw you."

Ethey shrugged. "I was at first, but..." She halted again. "My queen, do you remember the first thing the king said to me?"

"He asked you your name, didn't he?" Fluttershy was able to recall.

Smiling, Ethey nodded, prompting her glasses to slide down her nose. She blushed appreciatively and said, "He didn't expect me to grovel, or tell him how great or terrible he was, or extend his hoof expecting me to peck at it like a lowly chicken desperate for scraps, or make me kiss his ass in any of the ways Cadence had always done. Hell, that pompous little pink mare could barely remember my name half the damn time. Sombra, on the other hoof, not only remembered my name, but he called me by my nick name. It was my first night as his adviser, and he told me that I had done a splendid job. I finally get to work for someone who treats me with the dignity of an equine being. He doesn't just see me as a lackey, or a servant; he treats me like an equal. With dignity and respect. " Ethey pushed her glasses up her muzzle and resumed her pace with a dignified little saunter. "That is why he is my king. Not because he is addressed as such, but because he acts in the noble way a proper king should."

Fluttershy took a moment to digest the adviser's words. She remembered the tear of joy the old soldier had shed back in the foyer, when Sombra restored his meaning of existence to him with a simple kingly decree. "Sombra," she thought aloud, "he really does seem to have others' best interests at heart."

"He does," Ethey agreed. "It's too bad that part was never mentioned in the history books, eh?"

But where does the history end and the fiction begin? Fluttershy thought. Skewed conjecture and slanderous hyperbole was all she had to go on. There was, however, one undisputed fact that she was privy to, and it was that Celestia and Luna themselves were forced to combat him over a thousand years ago, supposedly to end his reign of tyranny. They wouldn't have just pressed an all out assault on him for no reason, she knew.

"Pay attention to everything around you, my queen," Ethey advised. "Look at the servants. Cadence only parted with the portion of her staff that she was sick of looking at. You only need to look at me with my Diminished Age Progression Disorder, or Nevermore with her neurotic tendencies to see that. Just about every servant here has rubbed Cadence the wrong way in one fashion or another. There are even several female servants here who made Cadence's undesirables list for simply looking at Shining Armor in a way that she didn't approve. The princess saw this as an opportunity to rid herself of the misfits she was forced to interact with on a daily basis. Sombra doesn't sneer at us, or belittle us, he embraces us. He's even given us opportunities that would have never been available to us back at the Crystal Empire. It's like..." There was a somber shift in Ethey's tone then, as the two were approaching the chamber door. "It's almost like Sombra understands what it's like to be a freak."

"I don't think you're a freak," Fluttershy insisted.

Ethey chuckled in a way that probably sounded a little more sardonic than she meant. "You're kind for saying so, but, did you listen to the way the guards talked to me back in the main hall? I was called a midget. I was called a garden gnome. I was called a grotesque, fit only to work as a whore who specializes in pleasuring pedophiles and other perverted fetishists. And that's not the worst I've been called, believe me. I've even heard Cadence titter on about me a few times when she thought I was out of earshot. My condition isn't so bad though, not when you realize there are others out there who suffer from the same thing, and are probably treated way worse than I am. But just look at Sombra. Do you honestly think he's ever been treated normal in his life? I don't think there's even a name for the kind of affliction he has."

"Affliction?"

"What else would you call it?"

Fluttershy had never thought to use that word to describe Sombra's appearance, but, now that she was thinking about it, what else could it be? His eyes. His size. His fangs. The wickedly malformed blood red horn that protruded from his skull like a cruel instrument made for goring. His physical appearance was the most literal depiction of a monster if there ever was one. It wasn't like he got to choose the face he was born with, though. The revelation was opening her mind to a whole new light.

"This world doesn't take kindly to those who are different." Ethey's eyes disappeared behind a glare that reflected off the surface of her glasses. "It's funny how everyone preaches of acceptance and tolerance, but when you dig deep down in to one's psyche, you find nothing but disdain and contempt for those who don't look the same way you do. I know this better than most. And I'm sure Sombra knows this even better than I do."

The conversation had reached a point that was a tad bitter for Fluttershy's liking. "I meant it when I told you that I didn't think you were a freak," she insisted. "I meant it then and I mean it now."

"And I believe you," Ethey said. "I only wish that everyone else thought the same way."

"Well, from this point on, nopony is allowed to bully you," the queen clarified, as if it was an official decree. "If anyone so much as thinks about it, they'll have me to answer to."

"That's sweet of you, but I don't think I need your help." The adviser removed her glasses, fogged them up with her breath, and began to rub them in small circular motions against her fir. "No one bullies me anymore, since I'm the adviser. And if they try, they'll have my wit to contend with, and I don't think anyone wants that. My head may be tiny, but It houses a keen intellect, I assure you." She donned her specs and added, "You know, you're starting to sound more like a queen."

Fluttershy smiled at the compliment. Praise was always such a rare thing for her to receive back home. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Ethey replied. "It won't be long before you're ordering Sombra himself around."

"I doubt that will ever happen."

"I don't know, he seems to take your role as his queen seriously. And it seems to me that you're starting to do the same." Ethey smirked "You're his wife just as much as you are his queen - I'll bet there's all sorts of things you could get him do for you." She leaned forward and added, "Or to you."

The insinuation reminded Fluttershy of the way her husband propositioned her with a flirtatious flick of his tail as he sauntered away - for the eye of everyone in the foyer to see, no less. It was a memory that seared the tips of her ears a blazing red.

Ethey snickered. "I was just kidding! You gotta loosen up about things like this, my queen," she said before turning around and beginning a leisurely stroll into the gloom of the corridor. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a pumpkin cobbler I stole from Nevermore waiting for me back at my quarters. And that Vampire Hunter P comic I swiped from the library isn't going to fangirl over itself. Have a good night. Oh, what am I saying, of course you will."

Fluttershy reddened as she watched her adviser disappear into the distant twilight of the stony hallway, the rattling of the tiny skull in her ribbon growing fainter by the moment. She turned around and observed the door. It had appeared to have been freshly painted, and the brass ring that served as a handle was scoured of its rust and polished to a perfect sheen that glinted in the torchlight. She looked up and glimpsed an ornate silver dragon's head that was embedded in the door, its eyes shining red like tiny rubies. It was a feature that hadn't been there before, Fluttershy realized. The workers who labored tirelessly to refurbish the house hadn't been slacking on their duties. Every time she returned to this hall there was always something new she noticed. She curled her foreleg around the shiny brass ring of the door and was surprised by how easily it glided open on its freshly oiled hinges.

The bedchamber glowed in the moonlight that spilled in through the large glass pane. Her husband was laying prone and naked before the fireplace with a book levitated in front of him, one foreleg crossed languidly over the other. His ear twitched at the sound of her entering. He marked the tome with its red ribbon, set it aside, and then his eyes shifted toward her. The furious orange light crackling away in the fireplace behind him obscured his already dark features, his eyes glowing in hauntingly stark contrast like red hot coals blazing in the blackest ether. He then unfolded his long forelegs and approached her, with all the ominous grace of a black lion stalking its prey. "Ah," he said, "my dear lady has finally arrived." As he drew closer, and the rays of moonlight bleeding in through the frozen glass graced his features, Fluttershy was able to see the smile on his face. He circled around her, swishing his black tail in a smooth, soundless motion. The queen felt him unclasp her cape, and the silky material slid down her as easily as water rolling down her back. She felt herself being taken in a firm embrace. His lips brushed her ear, and she heard him say, in a deep, sensual voice, "I saw the fire inside you tonight, my queen. You're quite fearsome when you want to be."

"Fearsome?" she said. "I didn't want to get involved. I only did what I had to do to make the fighting stop."

"And that's why you are my queen." She felt him nuzzling up against her neck. The sensation gave her a tingle. "There are two kinds of rulers in this world, you must understand. There are those who do as they please, and there are those who do as they must. You, my dear, are the latter. That is a very queenly quality you have." Fluttershy could feel the heat from his breath as he planted gentle kisses up and down her shoulder and neck. "Tell me," he purred, "how does it feel?"

"H-how does what feel?"

"How does it feel to be a queen?" His hooves brushed gently down her sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

The rush of endorphins was beginning to make Fluttershy's head washy. "I don't know," was all she could think to offer. She didn't know if it was her husband or if it was herself she was trying to convince. Deep down she knew it felt good. It felt good to have others listen to her for a change. It felt good to be treated like she mattered. It felt good to be loved, and catered to, and doted over. Everything her husband was doing to her felt good too. It was like the realization that she was no longer afraid opened her mind to the notion of enjoying the affection he showered over her. What did she have to gain by lying to herself? Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to just cast her worries and perturbations aside for a while, to just relax and simply let the rush sweep her away.

Her husband brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, leaned her head back, and kissed her on the lips. It felt good. Kissing him felt good. She could feel herself melting into his embrace as her mind was now finally allowing her body to relax. "I can make you feel like a queen," he whispered intimately into her ear. "Would you like that?"

"No." Fluttershy's tenuous, little hooves reached up to cup his face. Caught up in the moment, her heart swooning, her head swimming, the adrenaline in her blood rushing, the words seemed to spill out of her mouth faster than she could think them. "I don't want to just feel like a queen. I... I want you to make me feel like your queen."

There was a flicker of surprise in the king's eyes just then. "You have a way with words, little dove." He smiled impishly and said, "If I didn't know any better, I could swear that you just issued me a command."

"Yes," Fluttershy quavered. The experience was surreal, commanding a king. But he was her king to command. "Take me, and remind me that I am your queen," she said. "I-I command it." That final bit seemed overkill to her, but what could she do? Demanding her king to love and pleasure her had excited her.

Bearing witness to Fluttershy's queenly display of assertiveness in the foyer had ignited her husband's passion for her. And seeing it again in the bedroom had inflamed his desire. The king hummed and narrowed his eyes in a way that almost seemed diabolical. "As you command, my queen."

Sympathy For The Devil

Fluttershy, upon waking, was vaguely able to recall the dream she had just had. A raging black tempest of apocalyptic proportions was ravaging everything in its wake. Her friends and other citizens were retreating from it, cautioning her in a panic to run away as they passed her by. Some even made an attempt to make a grab for her in order to drag her to safety. For reasons beyond her comprehension she wasn't afraid. She remembered walking headlong into it, and when she let the vicious storm consume her, it dispersed all around her until there was nothing left of it.

She opened her eyes and immediately realized it was still dark outside. Some hours must have passed while she was asleep, as the moon that so beautifully shone in the twilight of the night sky was nowhere to be seen. The only source of light in the chamber came from the fire, which cracked and roared intensely as if it had recently been fed fresh lumber. Fluttershy sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She noticed her husband standing in front of the fireplace. He appeared to be looking down into the flames, though it was hard to guess from just staring at his back. Curious, she pushed the thick blankets away and crawled out of bed to go meet with him.

"Go back to sleep, my queen," Sombra said, when she joined him by his side.

Fluttershy looked into his eyes as he gazed into the fire. His visage expressed a rather unsettled expression. "My king, is something wrong?"

"T'is nothing," the king replied. "Go back to sleep, little dove."

"Why are you being evasive?" Fluttershy said, though not unkindly.

Sombra's eyes glinted when they shifted toward her. "I'm not."

"But you are." The queen felt that she was testing the waters by arguing with him, but she persisted. What was he going to do to her? Raise his voice to her? Strike her? She doubted it. If he genuinely felt a shred of the affection that he had been showing her, he wouldn't dare.

The king let out an audible sigh of irritation. "A dream," he conceded. "That is all."

"A nightmare, you mean?" Fluttershy guessed. "What was your dream about?"

"Is there a point to these questions?" Sombra snapped in a mild tone that had a bite of insecurity to it. "T'is nothing to worry yourself over."

"Why is that?" Fluttershy insisted. "Why shouldn't I be worried about you?"

"It is not your place to worry about me."

"Yes, it is. I'm your wife and queen. If it's not my duty to worry about you when something is obviously bothering you, then who's is it?"

Sombra's eyes narrowed in a way that made him look dangerous, like a wounded animal that had been backed into a corner. "No one's," he shot back stubbornly.

"Oh, come on! Haven't you ever confided in anyone before?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I've never had anyone that I cared to confide in!" the king bristled. "Are you done with this interrogation?"

Fluttershy was startled, but she refused to fold. He was trying to intimidate her into backing down from the subject, she knew. She wasn't going to let it work. "Sombra!" she said in a voice that was spiced with defiance, yet sweetened with concern. It was the first time she could ever recall addressing him by his actual name. The look he gave her was that of surprise, then irritation, then remorse.

He took a moment to collect himself and said, "I didn't mean to raise my voice to you. Forgive me - that was not chivalrously done." He stared again into the fire. "It was a nightmare - about something that happened a long time ago. In order to understand it, you would need to know more about me."

"Well, I'm sure if you talk to someone about it, it might make you feel better." Carefully, she slid her hoof across the floor to meet with his. He looked at her, then looked down at her hoof, as if the gesture was utterly alien to him. "Someone, like, an attentive queen, perhaps?"

The king reclaimed his hoof from her and cautioned, "It's not a story you will enjoy hearing, nor is it a story that I would enjoy telling."

Fluttershy smiled as sincerely as she could and said, "I would hear it all the same, my king."

Sombra huffed a reluctant sigh before he removed the bottle of their marriage wine from the polished wooden mantle. He took several generous pulls from it before setting it back down, then stared forlornly into the fire. The flames seemed to center him, as if focusing on them soothed his consciousness into a purgatorial state where emotions didn't exist. The fire roared dully upon the rack. The wind outside was picking up. Somewhere off in the distance a pack of wolves were howling. The ambiance created a haunting atmosphere that was every bit as somber as the king's mood. "Matricide," he finally began. "A crime for which my father could never forgive me."

Fluttershy's eyes widened in horror. "You killed your own mother?"

"I would like to say that irony was to blame. All my mother had done for me at that point was give me the gift of life, and as she was doing that, I snuffed hers out."

"So, your mother - she died while giving birth to you?" Fluttershy almost felt evil for being relieved by the explanation. It was still sad, but her husband could hardly be named a murderer for that. "That's not matricide, my king," she attempted. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother, but that was something you couldn't have had any control over."

"My father did not see it that way, unfortunately. The birth was destined to go badly. The bulge in my mother's belly was so large that it had been anticipated she was carrying triplets. However, the expectations had turned out to be folly." His eyes narrowed. "She was carrying me. A creature twice the size of any infant, with a pair of hellish red eyes that inspired a bitter disgust and detestation from my father. There was speculation among everyone in the Chrystal Castle as to what I was. The most popular theory, ridiculous as it was, was that I was an incubus that had resulted from an illicit union between my mother and some creature of another world. To this day it remains unclear as to what I truly am, but that didn't stop my father from deciding upon a label for me. Monster, is what I was to be called. Or, Sombra, as the dialect had pronounced it at the time. It was a name I was given so that I would never forget my place, and always remember what I was. It served as a constant reminder of how much my father hated me every time I heard it."

Ethey's words came echoing back into Fluttershy's mind. Just look at Sombra. Do you think he's ever been treated normal in his life? Fluttershy, aghast, covered her mouth with a hoof. "I'm sorry to hear that. I-I really am."

Sombra looked at her. "Save your tears, my queen. I desire not nor deserve your sympathy."

Fluttershy closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. Please, continue."

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Sombra cautioned. "I've merely told you about a minor shortcoming that I was forced to tolerate. I can already tell that your heart is too soft for a tale such as this."

Fluttershy had managed to win his trust it getting him to confide in her. She couldn't turn back now. "Please, my king, I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't want to know."

"Very well." Sombra was beginning to reach for the bottle atop the mantle again, but he thought better of it and left it where it was. "As I grew," he continued, "so did my father's hatred for me. I was no mere boy to him. I was the monstrous hell spawn that killed his beloved queen. I was beaten severely on a near daily basis. To him, every indiscretion I had committed, real or imagined, was viewed as a provocation. Every time a harvest went bad, every time someone in the castle had a nightmare or fell ill, I was to blame."

"But how could you possibly be blamed for things like that?" Fluttershy interjected in outrage.

"You forget, I was the supposed bastard demon child. I was the bringer of misfortune, the monster whom, with his dark arts, sought to sew misfortune and discord." His expression intensified into a glare that made his glowing eyes radiate a heat that rivaled that of the fire before him. The very air around them began to blur red with tendrils of hot air. "I can recall one night when my father got drunk. It was the eve of my ninth birthday, which he had taken to view as yet another anniversary of his queen's murder at my hooves. I remember being roused from a sound sleep by an iron grip that had ripped the blankets off of me and seized me by my mane. I was terrified and confused at first, until I realized it was my father who was dragging me from my chamber. I pleaded for an explanation as to what I had done, but he didn't reply.

"Down the long hall and up three flights of stairs he dragged me by my hair, furious and stinking of wine. He took me to the shrine he had erected for my mother after her passing, and he threw me before her portrait. I know not what cruel instrument he used to bludgeon me with, but it was blunt enough to inflict deep contusions, yet thin enough to rip skin. He struck me, over and over again on my back and hindquarters as he screamed in a drunken rage 'Give her back, you little demon. Give her back to me.' When he finally relented, he just left me there bloody and weeping. After a few hours, I finally found the strength to crawl back to my chamber, where I bolted and barricaded the door behind me should my father decide to return. I can't remember a time in my life when I was so afraid. I dared not leave my room for three whole days after the ordeal, when the pain of hunger became too great to ignore."

Fluttershy's vision distorted with a film of tears. As much as she had prepared herself for what her king was telling her, she had failed to bolster herself efficiently. "No one came to help you?" she said, trying not to let a sob or whimper obstruct her articulations.

"Neigh. Any who may have felt even the slightest bit of empathy for me was too afraid of my father's wrath to approach. And it was because my wounds went untreated that my rent flesh had began to fester, and for a fortnight I knew pain and sickness beyond mortal reckoning. I should have died. It was probably what my father wanted. Alas, I managed to do what I did best: I disappointed him. I survived. And in doing so, I had only seemed to further reinforce everyone's theory that I was a monster."

Fluttershy wiped a tear from her eye. "A-are you immortal?" she heard herself ask. The question hardly seemed appropriate, but she had to know.

"No," Sombra replied, "I am not. My body has always been resilient on a near supernatural scale, but I can age, and, as far as I know, I can die, just like anyone else. The only reason that I have managed to stay alive these passed thousand years was because my body was preserved in a tomb of ice."

Fluttershy thought for a moment and said, "But, in the feasting hall, just this morning, you said something about roaming the land hungry and unable to rest."

"I was still able to magically project myself. It was all that I could to keep myself from going mad in that tomb."

That made sense, Fluttershy realized, when she thought back to the time when she and her friends had witnessed Sombra roaming the frozen north as a howling phantom, biding his time, waiting for the opportunity to seize the crystal heart so that he could be made whole again.

"It was only a matter of time before my father's fear and hatred of me would force him to take more drastic actions," the king continued. "One fateful day, I had returned to my bedchamber from a long day of studying in the library. I was fascinated with magic when I was a child. I had a natural aptitude for it, and the other children who lived in the castle were explicitly instructed by their parents to never associate with me, so the library was where I spent the majority of my time. I had noticed upon my return that my chamber was bare of all my belongings, and my father was standing in the center of the room, as if he had been waiting for me.

'What is the meaning of this, father?' I asked him. 'Little prince,' he said to me, 'if you hope to one day be king, you must first pass a test.' This test, my father had informed me, was a trial of solitude. I was to live in the very house in which me now stand, which he had purchased for me, and that I would receive a message to come back home when he had deemed it so that I had spent enough time in seclusion. I admit, I was beside myself with excitement. I had taken it as a sign that my father, who claimed he was merely grooming me to be his heir, might have actually had an ounce of love for me in his heart. He convinced me that it was important for every king to learn what it is to survive on his own before taking the throne. He went on about the lessons I would learn and the knowledge I would gain in fending for myself. Being the ignorant child I was, I eagerly accepted the challenge. My father's love was all I had ever wanted, and it seemed to me at the time that succeeding in this test, this trial of kings, would be the best way to obtain it. How proud I would make him."

"How old were you when this happened?" Fluttershy had to know.

Sombra rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully."I was ten, give or take a few moons."

"Ten?" Fluttershy echoed, incredulous. "Who sends a ten year old to a place like this to live all on their own?"

"My father," Sombra replied in a cold, emotionally distant way. The deeper he got into his story, the further away his expression seemed to grow. "I spent the years up here studying—

"Years!?" Fluttershy blurted. "You were up here - all alone - for years?"

Sombra looked at her with his emotionless eyes until she felt so uncomfortable she began to fidget.

"I spent the years up here studying the arcane arts, improving myself in any way I could, desperate to be able to impress my father upon my return. I honed my skills and tested my mettle in anyway I could. I fought off saber cats and ice wargs and giant boars and any other manner of wild beast that wandered into my domain. I survived on what local flora I could forage. When boredom threatened to drive me mad, I decided to improve upon this house, for it was merely a cottage with nothing inside but a hearth and a wooden table when I had first arrived. I passed the days by teaching myself an assortment of new skills through trial and error. I dug deep into the ground in search of minerals, and learned how to make my own adhesive utilizing resources such as mud and limestone, with which I would use as mortar to build the walls that now surround us. I would make my own tools and chop my own firewood. I learned that I could heat blast sand to make glass for windows. When my sense of creativity expanded, I had taken to crafting my own furniture from the lumber I harvested. I would find large boulders in the quarries I had dug, and I would melt them down and reshape them into dragons and gargoyles - the very ones that you have seen in the garden."

The king's expression seemed to soften into a sad yet abashed smile. "I had become so lonely at one point, I made statues of ponies out of some of the ore I had found. I gave them names, and I spoke to them as if they were real. In a way, I preferred them over the ponies back home. I was always received by others with disdain back at the Crystal Empire, but these subjects I had made, in my desperate loneliness, or perhaps madness, I could hear them showering me with love and praise." Fluttershy could have sworn she saw a glistening in the king's eye at that moment. He made a halfhearted attempt to disguise his sudden surge of emotion with a chuckle. "I... I was such a child back then."

The queen scooted herself closer to him so that she could take his arm and rest her head against his shoulder. Silently, and with a heaviness in her chest, she let her tears fall freely, watching as the fire crackled away.

"And so," he continued, after a long intermission of heart-rending silence, "the years went on. One year... Two years... Five years... Eight years... Ten years... I was no longer a boy. I was a stallion grown. My little hovel had become a manse. My magical capabilities had flourished to a level that was unprecedented. Any beast or bandit in the area, who would have once looked upon the ostentatiousness of my house and salivated at the temptation of plunder, had cultivated a healthy fear of me within their hearts. They didn't know who or what I was, but they knew to stay away. They were well aware of the many before them who had attempted to raid me for the things I had worked so hard to create. Such efforts, no matter how well equipped, or how large the group, earned the poor dregs nothing but an opportunity to have their heads decorate my outer gate, which served as an effective warning for any who may have been foolish enough to repeat their mistake.

Fluttershy could feel her stomach churning. "It... Must have been hard. I can't imagine what it would feel like to take a life."

"Killing wasn't easy for me at first. Even though they were bandits, and I was only doing what I had to in order to survive, it weighed heavily on my conscience. I wasn't able to sleep. I would lay awake at night, and I could swear I was hearing the voices of those I had slain. I would close my eyes, and I would see theirs, open, lifeless, staring up at the sky as the gelid snow beneath their bodies drank in their blood like wine. I will admit that it got easier over time. I had become numb to it. There was a time when I would allow my would-be marauders to retreat when they knew they had been defeated, but in doing so, I was only allowing them to regroup so they could return and muster an even greater force against me.

"So I killed. I killed, and I killed, and I killed, until the act became nothing more to me but a bothersome chore. Every once in a while, I would let one or two escape so that I could follow them back to their keeps, where I would route the naves out at their source. When the deed was done, I would free any slave or captive I could find. After distributing the bandit's plunder to them, I would take my own share back to my homestead, where it accumulated into a massive fortune over time." Sombra's expression became bitter. "I had planned on making it a gift to my father upon my return..."

Fluttershy tilted her head, bemused by the sudden spite in his tone.

"The morning had finally come when the sky turned black," the king said, before she could think of a way to placate him. "A beast from out of my darkest nightmares swooped down from the sky, bellowing flames, snapping his jaws, roaring so fiercely the very ground trembled beneath me. The wind produced from his black, flailing wings were like the icy gales of a snow storm. His red eyes were fixed on me, and the look of them expressed well the beast's intentions. No words were exchanged. There was no need. There was no option for quarter or parlay. It was kill or be killed."

"A dragon," Fluttershy gasped. She looked back to where her Dragonbone crown sat upon a small table near the bed. Even in the dark it shined and glinted in the glory of its beautiful, rippling luster. She could now draw a guess as to where it came from. "Why would a dragon just randomly attack you? Did it want the plunder you had been saving?"

"That was not the intended reason behind its assault, but I have no doubt that he would have taken it, if he succeeded in killing me. I successfully defended myself against the beast in a battle that went on until sunset. With a precise spear of focused arcana, I pierced its heart as it was hurling bombs of flame on me from above. It flailed helplessly through the air until it landed hard on its belly with an impact that shook the ground. As it was opening its mouth in one final attempt to cook me where I stood, I sallied forth and struck its jaw so hard that its mouth snapped shut just before it was able to project its wave of searing flames toward me. Its eyes burst into flaming orbs in its skull, and pillars of fire bellowed from its ears and nostrils. The dragon had cooked itself from the inside with its own flames. It didn't even have enough time to realize its mistake. There was only the implosion, then it collapsed, dead, with black smoke seeping from its every orifice. I was exhausted, but I ultimately emerged the victor."

Fluttershy was gawking at him in disbelief. "And, the reason for its attack?"

"Haven't you been listening?" Sombra said. "It was there to kill me."

"But, why? How did you know?"

Sombra's eyes went to the wine bottle on the mantle. "That is the part that will be difficult to tell."

"Well, I'm here, and I'm listening," Fluttershy insisted. "You've gone this far. Things couldn't have possibly gotten any worse—

"It got worse," said Sombra dryly, cutting her off as he grasped the wine bottle. Instead of drinking directly from it, as he previously had, he filled two glasses with the remainder of the receptacle's contents. They were the same ornate chalices from the night before - the glasses they had used to toast their marriage. Sombra presented one of them to Fluttershy, and she accepted it. In one motion he shotgunned the wine, then placed the crystal back on the mantle.

Fluttershy looked down at her glass before offering it to him. "Here," she said. "If this is the last of the wine, I'd like for you to have it, if it will help."

"No," Sombra refused. "I poured that for you, little dove. You look like you could use a little 'help' yourself."

Fluttershy observed her glazed eyes in the reflection of the wine and knew that it wasn't a lie. She tipped the rim of the glass to her lips and drank. The fluid was every bit as bitter and sour as her husband's past. The sweet that she had had with her dinner that night would have been so much more preferable. The resulting warmth in her chest and buzz in her head, however, was a welcome sensation, like a painkiller of sorts.

Sombra fed the fire a fresh bundle of dried sticks and said, "I warned you that this story would be unpleasant."

"But I'm glad you're telling it to me," replied Fluttershy, placing her cup on top of the mantle next to her husband's. She attempted to smile as she looked back at him. "It truth, I feel privileged to learn so much about you. You must be strong to have been able to come out of all this as unscathed as you are."

"Unscathed," Sombra echoed emotionlessly, as he was pushing the sticks around with a black iron rod in order to allow the fire to breathe. "Is that what I am?" Fluttershy could feel the heat on her face as the fire grew larger. Her husband was anything but unscathed, it was obvious for her to see. He was apparently a stallion who would not allow himself to be soothed with honeyed lies. She watched him hang the iron rod on the hook from where he acquired it.

"I'm ready whenever you are," Fluttershy said, doing poorly to hide her anticipation. Part of her was fearful that he would retain the rest of his tale from her, as the way he was stalling for time made him seem rather reluctant to continue.

Sombra kneaded at the plush rug sprawled before the fireplace. He lowered himself, then laid in that dignified-looking way he did, with one foreleg crossed over the other. Fluttershy decided to lay next to him. The king's throat emanated with a pleased hum as she relaxed her head on his shoulder, and they watched the fire, until he'd be ready to speak again.

"I had killed a dragon, on my own, armed with nothing but the skills I had honed for the past decade as my weapon. feats such as this were the kinds of things bards and storytellers the world over would have eagerly given their very souls to witness. My father would have to be ready to take me back. I longed so desperately to return home. Many times I had considered returning without his leave, but I was afraid that in doing so I would fail his trial. But, I had brought justice down upon countless thieves and murderers, I had freed slaves, I had killed a dragon, and the snowberry floating in my wine was that I had accrued an entire treasury's worth booty that would have swelled the Crystal Empire's wealth and prosperity to unfathomable proportions."

The king hung his head, his thick black hair closing over his face like a dark curtain. "My father, after hearing of my deeds, he would have to treat me with the love and respect I worked so hard to obtain. I fantasized of how he would greet me at his table each night, and he would proudly regale to all his visiting diplomats and dignitaries the tale of all the trials I had endured. He would raise his cup to me and say 'All hail the dragon slayer, bringer of fortune, liberator of the subjugated and the forsaken, my son and the future king.'"

Sombra, brooding, pushed his hair out of his face. "I took a whole week to rest and heal from the battle. When I felt that I was strong enough to brave the frozen pass, I had packed a small chest with coins, and collected a scale from the dragon I slew as proof of my deeds. A dragon's bones and scales are valuable; their bodies are a treasure in of themselves. I decided to bury its remains. I would unearth them when I returned with a team of wagon pullers to claim the rest of my loot.

"I trudged through the pass with the eyes of would-be predators peering out at me from between the bushes and trees. When I was a child, such creatures would not have thought twice to attack, but puberty had granted me quite the imposing figure. All I would have to do was simply glare at them to send them skittering off. As for the raiders, it was true that the box of coins lashed to my back was a tempting incentive, but they had come to know me well over the years; keeping their lives was far more a priority to them than some trifling box filled with shiny metal.

After a two day slog through skirling winds and treacherous terrain, I had finally arrived at the Crystal Empire. I was finally home after ten years. It had felt like an eternity. The bustling populace turned pale as I passed them by. Those who did not instantly change direction, or direct themselves to the nearest corner or alley would freeze where they stood and blanch. It was not a flattering reception, but I paid them no attention. When I finally came upon the front gates of the Crystal Castle, the guard paled. 'You,' one of them said to me. That was all he said. The other more eloquent guard gawked and stammered, 'Dear Celestia!'

"'Prince Sombra, actually. Good guess, though,' I had said. My attempt at humor was lost on them. The two guards shot each other the strangest look before they scrambled for the leaver. The way I was received by the castle staff did not differ much from that of the small folk in the city: Standing guards clapped open their visors to stare at me. Stewards and stewardesses dropped trays before retreating in the opposite direction. A nearby Celestial priest dropped to his knees and began to pray in tongues. Was I truly such a horror to behold?

"I had eventually made my way to the throne room. Through rows of silent guards and terrified servants I approached the dais, where upon my father was seated. My father and I both needed a few moments to register what we were looking at. Beside his throne was his queen's throne, upon which sat a mare... A young mare, not much older that I, beautiful with her slender figure, her purple sparkling eyes, and flaxen hair shimmering like platinum. It wasn't her I was focused on so much as the boy who stood between them. "He too was young, with blonde hair, high cheekbones, a glorious crystal coat. He was handsome and tall. Tall, but not freakishly so, as I was when I was his age.

"My father shot up from his throne, quick as a whip and taught as a bowstring. His eyes were the widest I had ever seen. 'You. No, it can't be. You're dead,' he said. I puzzled over his words, puzzled over the child and the mare by his side, puzzled over every one's terrified reaction upon seeing me. 'What happened to the dragon?' my father let slip in his dismay. 'The dragon?' I said to him. I didn't understand how he could have known about that before I had the chance to tell him. All I could think to offer him at that confusing moment was the scale. I placed it on the ground as evidence and said, 'I killed him.'

"The king muttered a curse, or perhaps it was a prayer. I wasn't sure. There was a profound silence that fell over the throne room. My father finally pointed at me and screamed that I was some sort of abomination come back from the grave. I was astonished by the accusation. He then ordered his guards to seize me, and I was dragged away to the deepest dungeon below the castle. I was in such shock that I didn't even resist as I was being subdued. How could I? Beasts and bandits were one thing, but these were members of my father's royal guard.

"I was alone in the dungeon, but not for very long. My father and that boy that was standing near him in the throne room appeared in front of my cell. I looked at the colt, and realized how much he looked like father. He had his eyes, his hair, and he even had that same bored look of silent contempt on his face. He couldn't have been a day over ten years old. Upon these realizations, I had figured out everything, even before my father could relay a word to me, I knew the truth.

"'I never expected you would survive up there,' my father said to me. 'I had agents checking on you from time to time, and in truth, I was stunned to realize you hadn't perished within a fortnight. I had taken to sending envoys to your location in order to hire all sorts of unsavory louts to put you down.' I remember the way his expression soured when he added, 'It is apparent that they had all failed me.'

"My father was merely venting his frustrations at that point. He must have known that I had already figured out everything. A dullard could have seen it. He never intended for me to succeed him. Over the years he had sent scores upon scores of sellswords and cutthroats to their demise by issuing the order for my life. He hadn't even waited to receive the news of my death to start a new family. He had taken a new mare, or should I say girl, as his queen - who had given him the handsome son he had always wanted. The commissioning of the dragon was a desperate move on his part, for he had allowed everyone in the Crystal Empire to believe I had been dead for the past ten years. He had grown fearful that I would one day return to the Empire to bring to light his deceit.

"'So, my king,' I had said to him. 'What happens now? Will you have me executed?' He looked at me with those calculating eyes of his and informed me that he could not execute what was already dead. He had accused me of being an abomination from beyond the grave. He would no doubt stick to that lie. It was a difficult lie to swallow, granted, but that bastard father of mine had a way with words. Everyone in the empire already believed I was a demon; convincing everyone that I was some manner of ghoul wouldn't have been that much more of a stretch.

"Still - I wasn't sure what he meant by what he had said, until I realized that twisted little shit he called his son had a crossbow slung at his back. He hefted it, loaded it, and was levering the string back. The boy smiled and said, 'I never killed a demon before, father. Do you think I'll get the title 'Demon Slayer' added to my name?' I rushed the bars and yelled, 'Father, how can you do this to me? I'm your son!' And those were the last words I uttered before I felt the punch of the bolt embedding itself in my chest. The sadistic little bastard who shot me laughed a delighted little laugh. It was unsettling how innocent and playful it sounded, as I fell back and hit the ground gasping.

"I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. My chest throbbed with unimaginable pain. I tried to speak, but 'Father' was the only word that would come. The king looked at me one last time before he and his son left me there to bleed out." Sombra's voice became labored with a husky rasp. During his entire story, he had done everything he could to keep his emotions at bay, but now it seemed as if they were starting to break through. "My father's parting words to me cut me deeper than anything ever had before. Deeper than even the shaft protruding from my chest. He looked down on me with the coldest eyes I had ever seen, and he said to me, 'Little prince, you will never be king, and you are no son of mine.' And they left me there to die."

A fresh stream of tears began to fall from Fluttershy's eyes. She wiped them away, but they were instantly replaced with a fresh barrage. "Your father was the real monster."

"No, he was not," Sombra replied. "I was. The real beast had yet to show itself. My father's words struck something within me. I felt something in my mind snap. Vivid images from my life played out before my eyes as my life's blood puddled under me. Every beating I had endured, every callus eye that looked on me in scorn, every grueling test to my sanity I had faced in the peninsula, everything that had occurred up until then. I went mad. I began to laugh and weep at the same time - until my rage escalated in the form of a roar that shook the walls around me. I ripped the bolt from my chest and watched the red fluid spill out. T'was the desire for revenge and sheer will to survive that had saved me that night. I looked down at the blood that had puddled on the floor and called it back to my body. It seeped along the dungeon floor, coiled up my legs, and flowed back into my chest from whence it had came. I then approached the prison bars and parted them aside like a cloth curtain.

"A startled guard opened the dungeon door to check on me. His mistake. He should have ran the moment the walls started shaking. The guard yelled for help as he attempted to shut the door on me, but I blasted it off its hinges, sending the guard's carcass careening into the darkness of the hallway. More guards came, and more guards died. 'Little brother,' I called down the hall. 'I would like a word with you concerning your succession.'

"I eventually found the twisted little shit cowering in his bedchamber. I figured my old quarters would be turned over to him. He aimed his crossbow at me as I entered through the door and yelled for me to stay away from him. The crossbow thrummed, and I stopped the bolt just before it could hit me. 'I believe this belongs to you,' I said to him. Just as he had turned to run, I projected the bolt forward at such a force it shot through his back and burst out from his chest, spraying the walls and floor with a wet red mist. The prince was now dead. I was once again my father's only living successor.

"I tracked my father down to the throne room, killing any who challenged me and sparing those who did not along the way. Slaughtering noncombatants hardly seemed a kingly a gesture. The coward was surrounded by his guard. He ordered them to kill me. They came at me in force, and were immediately hurled back with one simple concussive blast of energy. He shouted for me to stand down, as if I would somehow be inclined at that point to obey him. 'What are you?' came his last words as I closed in on him. 'What am I?' I echoed. It was such a strange question. He honestly didn't know by that point? I acquired a dagger a guard had dropped in the skirmish, and I looked him dead in the eye as I thrust it as deep as I could into his belly. 'I am the king, and I sentence you to die,' was my reply. I wasn't sure why he looked at me the way he did as his life left him. It was the strangest look. Was it regret that he did not dash my skull against the stone floor when I was a babe? Was he begging me for forgiveness, or was he simply afraid and aware that he was dying? I'll never know, I suppose."

Fluttershy was looking at her king in horror. It was hard to justify the things that he had done, yet, given the situation, it was difficult to judge him for them.

"And now you see why I hesitated to tell you all this, my queen. I do not want you to be afraid of me, but I don't blame you if you are."

"And your nightmare?" Fluttershy inquired.

"Ten years my rule lasted. Ten years of enacting some ill conceived retribution upon those who I had perceived in my madness as the source of all my torment. I was mad. I see that now. What hurts the most is that, in the end, I proved everyone who had called me a demon right. I could have used my power to show them how wrong they were, but instead, I killed, I slaved, I destroyed. I brought the citizens of the Crystal Empire to their knees, and I crushed any who dared defy me. I committed just about every atrocity you can think of. In my nightmare, it was like it was all happening again. I could see myself standing atop a pedestal as I lashed my whip upon the backs of the toiling masses below. I don't want that to happen again. But, every once in while, an ugly memory works its way to the surface. I see the face of my father. I feel that bolt in my chest. And I hear those words he said to me. And it threatens to drive me mad all over again." To Fluttershy's surprise, the king lowered his head. His dark hair concealed his face. He made not a sound, but she knew that on the inside he was crying.

Fluttershy pitied the broken stallion before her, this king who's guilt had been secretly tearing him apart on the inside all this time. There was a question that was echoing in her mind now. Was it happenstance that this king, who was so afraid of the monster inside himself, chose her, the element of kindness, to be his queen? Was it an attraction brought on by two opposite forces? Was it a coincidence, or did he take her with hope in his heart that she could somehow heal his wounds and tame the evil inside him? She pondered upon this only to realize that the reason no longer mattered to her. He was capable of guilt, he was capable of sorrow, and subjects such as kindness were not entirely lost on him. Regardless of whatever his intentions may or may not have been, if she was the one who could be there to draw the kinder side out of him, then so be it. That was precisely what she intended to do.

Fluttershy, with tears in her eyes, held him as she hummed a lullaby. It was a tune that her mother had taught her when she was a filly, which she had taken to use to calm her animals back home when they were hurt or scared. When he finally allowed her to lead him to the bed, she straddled his back and worked her hooves as deep as she could between his muscles. He was so large, and his fur was course and thick. It was like massaging a bear. "No more nightmares, okay?" she whispered to him as his eyes were beginning to close.

"Why are you doing this?" he was saying as he was drifting away. "I told you, I don't want your sympathy. You think me weak becau—

"I told you I could make you feel better, didn't I?" Fluttershy said sweetly. "And do you? Do you feel better, my king?"

There was a pause before Sombra finally said, "I do," and his eyes finally closed, and his breathing became deep and slow with a relaxed rhythm.

A Friend In Need

The amber liquid within the beaker began to fizzle after Moondancer had added the final ingredient. She watched it closely, the surface of the effervescing fluid blooming into a thick froth until a dark yellow vapor began to seep from the top. Finally, after so many attempts, it was the exact reaction she was looking for. Moondancer smiled and removed her goggles. "Ha!" she cheered. "I told you my forty three thousand two hundred and twentieth try would be the lucky one!"

"It's not going to explode again, is it?" came Minuette's muffled voice from behind a blast shield she had improvised from a turned over desk in the corner of the lab. The lenses of her gasmask reflected the concoction when she dared to steal a peak from behind her makeshift barrier.

"Not this time," replied Moondancer reassuringly. "I've applied an element that reacts to the compound's thermal acceleration. It will turn red before producing a volatile reaction. Besides, I'm almost positive that I have worked out the kinks concerning the stability issue." Moondancer dabbed a quill in an ink well and wasted no time in recording her progress in the thick tome of notes that she lovingly referred to as her 'magnum opus.'

Minuette unclasped and removed her gas mask. "I'd rather you be positive that you're positive."

Moondancer paid the statement no mind. "Synthetic magic," she soliloquized. "It's like real magic, only drawn from a tangible source. Now, if only there was a way to conduct it through a catalyst. A sort of... Wand."

"We're both unicorns," Minuette replied. "Don't we kind of have those? You know, on our heads?"

Moondancer furrowed her brow. "That would completely defeat the purpose for why I am carrying out this experiment. Our horns are naturally capable of conducting magic. I'm trying to see if I can produce magic through other means."

"And why are you doing this again?"

Moondancer dawned her specs and said, "Simply to see if it can be done. Magic is the arcane element that can be controlled, but it has never been produced or synthesized. The most brilliant minds in history have failed to completely grasp its nature beyond that its simply 'a thing unicorns can do.' This study may very well bring us one step closer to understanding it."

"Huh." Minuette cocked her head to the side uncomprehendingly. "Yeah, that'd certainly be a thing, wouldn't it?"

Moondancer glanced up at her from her thick composition of notes. "I'm sorry if I'm boring you."

Minuette smiled in a rather whimsical manner and said, "Oh, It's okay, I forgive you."

Moondancer's eye twitched, but just before she could vocalize her irritation a sudden knock on her front door caught her attention. The two mares exchanged curious glances. "Who is it?" Moondancer called out.

"Royal messenger," announced the voice behind the door. "I have an important letter for you from Princess Twilight Sparkle."

"From Twilight?" Moondancer skirted around the large table at the center of the room, which was scattered with her notes and well-used alchemy equipment. The clean cut mail carrier was standing there when she opened the door, adorned with the golden vest emblazoned with the Hermes' wings and sandals patch of Celestia's royal messenger. The Pegasus looked as if he was built specifically for his job: Tall, lean, athletic, and, Moondancer wouldn't say it out loud, but perhaps a little easy on the eyes as well. He relinquished the letter without a word and stood as still as a statue, watching her. "Was there anything else?" she asked, feeling a tad uncomfortable under the stallion's silent gaze.

"I was instructed to make sure you read the letter the moment it came into your possession, ma'am."

"It's that important?" Moondancer inspected the wax seal on the envelope. She had never received a letter bound with a wax seal before. She didn't even know that was still a thing. The messenger cleared his throat in a very loud and impatient manner. "I'm opening it, I'm opening it!" Moondancer snapped as she fumbled with the seal. "And here I was thinking you were kinda cute," she added under her breath.

"What's it say?" Inquired Minuette, approaching.

"It's private," replied the messenger and Moondancer in unison.

The nosy mare held her hooves up defensively and backed away. "Okay, okay, sheesh."

Moondancer squinted her eyes and adjusted her glasses.

Moondancer

Something terrible has happened! I know this is short notice, but I need you to come meet me at the Crystal Empire ASAP! I have enclosed in this letter a first class train ticket, and I have arranged for a carriage to pick you up at the station once you have arrived. Don't wait until tomorrow to depart. Please, come tonight, if you can. I don't have time to fill you in on all the details now, but I am in dire need. All the arrangements have been made to ensure that you can get here as quick as possible.

-Twilight Sparkle-

"She doesn't need to beg me for my help. Not Twilight." Moondancer's eyes disappeared behind the glare of her glasses, and she crushed the letter in her hoof. The messenger gave her a quizzical look. "Our princess of friendship is rather silly, isn't she?" She waited a moment for the messenger to respond, but he only remained silent. "If she needs my help, she need only ask."

The Last Piece To The Plan

When Sunset Shimmer and her group finished their lunch at their usual meeting spot around the school statue, they spent the rest of whatever time they had left relaxing and enjoying each others' company, as was their routine. It wasn't until the bell was about to ring when Sunset noticed her bag was vibrating. She kept the book that allowed her to communicate with the other world as close as possible every since a string of locker break ins occurred a few weeks ago. The culprit was never caught, and a reward was offered to anyone with information that would lead to the thief or thieves' capture. Sunset fished the book out of her bag, expecting the message to be yet another casual 'how are you,' which was why she was surprised upon reading it.

Sunset, you must come to the Crystal Empire right away, something horrible has happened! I need you!! Don't reply, just get here as quick as you can!!!

Sunset Shimmer replied.

What happened?

She was about to close the book and put it back in her bag when it started vibrating again. The instant reply almost startled her.

I don't have time to explain. Just get over here, please! All will be made clear in time.

"She's being persistent," Said Sunset to no one in particular.

Fifth period is about to start, which is history. Human history, mind you. It's my worst subject. I can't afford to miss this class. Can this wait until the weekend?

The book vibrated before sunset could even close it.

NO!

The warning bell rang throughout the school. The second bell that would announce the ending of the lunch period would sound off any second now. Sunset grabbed her pen and wrote as quickly as she could.

I'm sorry, but I can't just up and leave whenever something bad happens in Equestria. Whatever this is, you can make do without me. I want to help, but my hooves are she cursed under her breath as she scribbled out her mistake. hands are tied.
I'm sure you can just use the elements of harmony to

Twilight's reply came instantly, the words scrawling across the page at a furious pace.
Sombra is back, and he's taken Fluttershy! Celestia knows what he's doing to her this very moment! We can't use the elements of harmony without her, but I have a plan, and it involves you!

Sunset's stomach fell as she digested the news. "Fluttershy?"

"Yes?" Fluttershy replied. Sunset Shimmer looked back at her. A bird that had been perched upon her shoulder was stubbornly refusing to leave. She giggled. "I gotta go, little guy." She lifted her hand, and the small bird leaped to her finger. "I'll bring you some more bread tomorrow, I promise." The feathered creature tilted its head and chirped a reply, almost as if it could understand her. Fluttershy then extended her hand to the sky and the bird burst into a brisk takeoff.

What kind of monster would steal away Fluttershy? She had an incorruptible purity about her that would put a freaking Disney Princess to shame. It was almost ridiculous how... Sweet she was. Sunset could feel a blinding fury building inside of her. Her decision was made by the time the second bell rang. Sunset and Fluttershy walked together toward the entrance to the school. She waited until they were out of earshot of the others when she finally said, "I have to go away for a while."

"What?" Fluttershy replied, a look of total and utter bemusement across her face. Sunset could comprehend her friend's confusion, but she didn't have time to explain. She suddenly dropped her bag and locked her in a hug. "Oh!" she squeaked in surprise.

"You're a good friend. You know I love you, right?"

"I, well... I love you too?"

"Which is why I need to leave." Sunset finally released her, and with no further explanation she bolted toward the statue.

"W-where are you going?" Fluttershy shouted after her.

"Away!"

"Will you be back?"

"Yes!"

"When?"

"I don't know!" came Sunset Shimmer's parting words before diving headfirst through the portal at the statue's pedestal.

The Wrath of The King

Strands of her hair clung to her face as the queen pushed herself up from her pillow. The sky through the glass pane was bathed in the predawn gloom, the star speckled indigo that heralded the coming day providing just enough light for her to discern nearby objects within the dark of the bedchamber. Her immediate waking thoughts were of her king and the woeful tale he had shared with her. She directed her gaze to her sleeping husband, his large barrel chest slowly rising and falling. She noticed upon examining him that a stir and a grimace would frequently interrupt the rhythm of his breathing. Another nightmare? she guessed. It made her heart feel heavy to witness her husband's suffering; even in his dreams he could find no reprieve from his suffering. Fluttershy caressed his cheek to free him from the hell of his unconsciousness. His silent snoring crescendoed to a startled snort. His eyes, like slashes of blood on polished jade, opened. He looked as if he wasn't quite sure what to say. No doubt that the events that had transpired the night before were upon his waking mind as well.

"Morning," Fluttershy greeted him with a sweet smile.

Sombra looked away from her, as if he was distracting himself with a wrinkle or stray thread on his pillow. "Yes, I suppose it is," he agreed, his dark grey muzzle reddening. The image of a blushing Sombra had Fluttershy covering her mouth to conceal her smile. His eyes snapped back to her with an icy glare that could set a wendigo to shivering. "Am I amusing you?"

Now that Fluttershy had gotten to take a peak under that impenetrable mask of venom and malice, his snarls and sneers just seemed to lack the potency they had once possessed. "Kinda," she chirped playfully.

"What in buggering tartarus is so bloody funny?" the king bristled, the red lines in his muzzle becoming more prominent.

"My king," Fluttershy said, "you don't have to be ashamed of your vulnerability. Not with me."

The king seethed upon the very mention of the V word. It was an insult to someone with as much pride as him. "You are to never speak of this to anyone!" he demanded hotly. "Do you understand?"

Fluttershy responded by nuzzling her way into his arms like an affectionately insistent feline. It was there against his chest where she had finally chipped away at the remainder of his defenses. The king returned the embrace, his long, powerful arms taking her tenderly. "Why must you strip me of what dignity I have left?" he sighed, trying to sound irritated about the situation.

"Dignity?" Fluttershy scoffed, though in a playful sort of way. She looked up at him and cupped his face in her hooves. "You're not allowed to be dignified when we're alone."

"Oh?" mocked Sombra. "Then what privileges wouldst thou grant me in our intimacy? Please, enlighten me before I presume once more."

"Well, if you think you can stop being snide for two seconds, I just might let you kiss me."

Sombra waited for exactly two seconds to go by before he replied, "How gracious of you."

"See?" Fluttershy quipped. "I knew you could do it." She placed her hooves against his chest and kissed him, just as she had promised to do. It was a kiss that was originally intended to be a playful peck, but, the sensation of his warm lips over hers, her wings extending in delight as he massaged them, their tails intertwining, the heat of their passion intensifying by the second, it lasted longer than she expected. Overwhelmed with desire, the queen bit his bottom lip and pulled him on top of her.

The first rays of east light cascaded down on them through the glass as the morning sun was just beginning to peek over the snowy crags. Fluttershy and her king cuddled in the twisted, tangled nest of sheets their passion had upturned like a farming plow dragged through a pebble garden. The queen craned her neck to kiss him before she turned over to face the window, and they watched the sunrise together.

The feasting hall was bustling with laughter and lively conversations when the king and queen arrived. Servants and workers would smile and shout greetings to them from their seats, or lift a mug to their health as they passed them by. Fluttershy preferred this laid back atmosphere over the cacophony of panic and terror the feasting hall had once been. She smiled and waved and did her absolute best to return every polite greeting with one of her own, but the shower of praise was getting hard to keep up with. She looked to her husband, who merely regarded a few of his subjects with a slight nod and nothing more. "Isn't this nice?" she said as they came upon the steps of the dais, Ethey leading the way with her clipboard hugged tightly under her foreleg.

The king glanced down at her. "Is what nice?"

"They like you," the queen explained. "Doesn't this feel so much better than having them fear you?"

"They feel about the same," Sombra replied. "Though, I have learned that a kingdom governed through fear is doomed to fail. I intend to keep my subjects happier this time around."

"Our subjects," Fluttershy corrected him before she hugged onto his arm. She half expected him to ignore her, or reclaim his arm in irritation, or at the very least reply with nothing more than a curt hum of acknowledgement. He instead looked down at her, smiled in that slight, barely noticeable way he did from time to time, and repeated the corrected version of his previous statement.

Fluttershy liked that roguish grin of his. He had done a lot of things that morning that she liked. She liked the way he kissed her. She liked the way he whispered her name in her ear as they made love. She liked the way he held her as they watched the sunrise from their bed, the way he nuzzled up to her neck, the way he made her giggle with delight when he lightly nibbled on her ear. The affection he showered over her made her feel so special. Yet, there was a part of her that was unhappy. All the doting in the world couldn't seem to alleviate her of the longing feeling lingering in her heart.

When they reached the top of the dais, Sombra helped his bride into her seat before taking his own. Fluttershy nestled herself into her comfortable chair and reflected upon her feelings as she waited for her meal to be brought to her. Even though she had come to love her husband, she couldn't help but pine for what was. She closed her eyes and thought of her friends.

"Little dove?"

Fluttershy opened her eyes. Her king was giving her a concerned look.

"Are you well?"

"I am," the queen fibbed.

The young steward was laying out the first course before them, a massive omelette heaping with green peppers, mushrooms, fried potatoes, and cheese. It smelled delicious, but Sombra didn't even seem to notice it. "Something bothers you," he persisted. "Tell me the truth of this."

Fluttershy carefully selected her words. "My king," she made herself say, "if I were... Wanting to leave... Would I be permitted to?"

"You wish to leave?" said the king, cutting away a large portion of the omelette for himself. "Where is it that you wish to go?"

Fluttershy gauged his reaction carefully. "The Crystal Empire."

Sombra was about to fork a piece of omelette into his mouth, but upon his bride's request he lowered the utensil to give her an incredulous look.

"I miss my friends," Fluttershy explained as succinctly as possible before she could be denied or interrupted.

"That is just what Celestia would want," Sombra said. "You'd have me walk into an ambush."

"But my friends are probably worried sick about me!" Fluttershy pleaded. "They don't know you how I know you, and I... Just..." She trailed off as the gears in her mind proceeded to grind out an idea. "What if my friends were to come here instead? No Celestia, no Luna, no Cadence, no risks of an ambush or devious plots. Just my friends. I'm sure they'd love to meet you. The real you, I mean."

The steward was filling a large mug with ale from a tapped barrel preemptively set beside the king's seat. He placed the mug on the table, where Sombra immediately wrapped the cleft of his free foreleg around its handle and drank, nearly depleting its contents in three thoughtful swallows. Fluttershy eagerly watched as he set his mug aside and wiped the froth from his mouth. His reply was, "Yes, well, I'm sure they'd love to plant a dagger between my shoulders as well."

That almost sounded like a no, but Fluttershy wouldn't be discouraged. This was one issue that she was prepared to strain to its absolute limit. She glanced at the barrel beside her king's chair. Perhaps she could find a way to entice his thirst, then try him again when he was a little deeper in his cups. Her husband was always a lot warmer and a lot happier with a belly full of ale. She liked the idea at first, but the thought of weaponizing her husband's alcohol to serve her means felt a bit sleazy. She instead decided to switch her tactics. "If not for a few days, we could at least have them over for dinner. I just want my friends and my husband to get to know each other, is that such a bad thing?" Fluttershy briefly allowed herself to be entertained by the thought of Rainbow Dash and Sombra at the dinner table together. Rainbow would no doubt feel the need to challenge her husband to a drinking contest. 'Twenty bits says I can drink you under the table,' she would say to him. She would lose - horribly - but the thought of those two chumming it up made her smile.

The queen noticed Ethey nibbling away at one of those cream cheese pumpkin rolls Nevermore had prepared. It was obvious from her silence that she was listening in on their conversation. Fluttershy hoped the little adviser may offer some kind of incentive to her argument. "Ethey, you must have ran into one of my friends before, as much as we've all been to the Crystal Empire. What do you think of them?"

Ethey swallowed her bite and washed it down with a gulp of milk before she replied. "I think I have. The erratic pink one, is she one of those friends of yours? I've seen her with you a few times."

"Yes! That's Pinkie Pie. She's seems like a blast to be around, doesn't she?" Her hopeful eyes snapped back to her king.

"Yeah, I remember her. She mistook me for a child. She stopped me one time to give me candy while I was on an errand for Cadence. I just played along with it. It was a degrading experience, but hey, free candy." She punctuated the end of her sentence with a shrug.

"Your friends will try to kill me the second I let my guard down," Sombra interjected. "Never forget that they are Celestia's creatures."

"I promise I won't let them hurt you," Fluttershy insisted.

The king waved his hoof. "Oh, I know they won't hurt me. It's them trying to, and me being forced to kill them is what I'm trying to avoid." He lifted his mug to his lips, his words echoed in his cup before he swigged down its remnants. "I doubt you'd be able to find it in your heart to forgive me, should such an event occur."

"So, you're not afraid of my friends?" Fluttershy gathered. "You're afraid of how I would feel if something bad were to happen?"

The king handed his mug off to his steward for a refill. When it came back to him, he looked down into the cup and said, "My love, I want nothing more than to make you happy - but I cannot allow this. As much as it pains me to compliment that sun sow, Celestia is cunning and infinitely more cruel than she would ever allow you to believe. I guarantee that she will take advantage of any opportunity that is given to her, and those friends of yours would most likely be the center piece to any plot she devises.

"But... My king--

Sombra raised his hoof and gestured for silence. "We shall speak no more of this, little dove."

Fluttershy pouted. "So, you won't allow me to see my friends, and that's just the way it's going to be? Am I your queen, or am your slave? I seem to have forgotten."

"You've never been a slave," Sombra said, "and you should be thankful that you'll never know what it's like to be one."

"You're making me feel like one right now."

"And yet you suffer not the lash for your insolence, nor the searing bite of a branding iron. I suggest you count your blessings before making such ludicrous claims."

"Well, if I'm not a slave, then I'm a prisoner!" Fluttershy fired back. "You come and take me away from my friends, and now you say you won't let me see them. They don't know what's happening to me right now. They probably think you have me chained up starving to death in some dungeon."

Sombra's irritation was becoming palpable through his expression. "And why would any of them think that?"

"Because you haven't given them a reason not to!" Sombra was about to respond but Fluttershy spoke over him. "They don't know you. They don't know what you're trying to do - your goals, your ambitions, they know nothing about you. All they know is that you've taken me from them, and none of them have heard from me since--

"Be silent," Sombra suddenly cut her off. His expression went blank, as if he had entered some kind of hyper-focused trance, his eyes searching, his ears twitching. "Something's coming."

"Something's coming?" Fluttershy echoed. Then she frowned. "You're not trying to change the subject, are you?"

Sombra ignored her. "Ethey, do you hear that?"

"Hear?" the little unicorn mumbled through a mouth full of pumpkin roll, oblivious as oblivious could be.

"Yes, hear. Can you enhance your senses?"

Ethey swallowed her bite. "I'd be lying if I said I could," she admitted. "Other than some illumination and levitation spells, I'm utterly hopeless when it comes to magic. Especially sensory magic."

"What's going on?" Fluttershy asked. "What do you hear?"

"Sounds like hissing. Almost like a--" Sombra's eyes widened, as if startled by his conclusion. He shot up from his seat quicker than a snapped bowstring and shouted, "Everyone, take cover!" Silence and startled looks were the only responses his order had garnered. "Fools!" he cursed as he loosed a spell from his horn, a rippling ball of blurred air that produced a blast of pure psycho kinetic energy upon impact. It struck the eastern wall just above the center table, and all the servants and subjects breaking their fasts within the radius of the blast were propelled to the opposite end of the room.

The spry among those who had taken their seats on the west side of the feasting hall were able to catch some of them, but others crashed against the floor or were hurled down the lengthy tables like a rag doll in a spin dryer. Half-eaten Food items were crushed. Dishes and platters were sent clattering to the floor. The pregnant mare Fluttershy had noticed on her first night in the mansion ducked her head and curled her arms protectively over her belly as a thrashing earth pony bowled passed her.

Fluttershy turned to her husband to demand an explanation, but he wasn't in his seat. A flash of movement in the corner of her eye directed her gaze to the steps of the dais, where she noticed a dark shadow sailing across the polished marble like an apparition in flight. It moved so quickly that she would have missed it rematerializing into her husband at the center of the feasting hall if she had blinked. At that point there was no time to ask him anything. There was a loud blast. The wall on the east side of the feasting hall collapsed inward. Heavy pieces of mortared stone came crashing down on the tables that Sombra had evacuated.

He saved them, Fluttershy realized, looking at the battered and confused ponies who had been blasted away from the danger zone. They may have suffered some bumps and bruises, but that was preferable to what that shower of heavy stones would have done to them.

Sombra stood motionless, his eyes cold as death, as he glared at the figure approaching through the veil of dust and debris that had once been his wall.

"Ah, you must be the king!" exclaimed a deep, dark voice. The creature stepped into the clearing: A Minotaur, large, even by Minotaur standards. He hefted a massive cannon on his shoulder with the name "Patty" scrawled across it in red paint. The massive bull chewed a cigar in the corner of his yellow, smoke stained grin. He blew two thick plumes of smoke out through his nostrils as a group of stallions, armed and armored, were joining him through the improvised entrance behind him. The bull lovingly stroked his patty as if it was his pet and said, "My, they weren't bull shittin' when they said you were one big bastard!" The battle-hardened stallions surrounding him chuckled.

Sombra's cold eyes did not so much as narrow or blink when he said, "I'm going to kill you." It was a message that was conveyed in such a chillingly matter of fact sort of way, it didn't even sound like a threat. It was stated as if it was simply a thing that was going to occur, like, I'm going to the store. I'm going to sleep. I'm going to kill you.

The Minotaur cackled as a tiny griffin boy stepped forward from the group of marauders, a cloth sack clutched tightly in his grasp. The bovine exhaled another thick cloud of smoke and said, "That's just what these three little birds said they were going to do to me." The young griffin, taking his master's hint, heaved with all his strength and flung the sack. It hit the ground with a loud, metallic clatter and slid the rest of its way to Sombra's hooves. "That was of course before I put them in their place, but, you know, before I croaked em, these three little birds sang me the most interesting song. Something about a king who has taken it upon himself to lay claim to my territory. My hat's off to you, your majesty; that takes some serious balls."

Sombra undid the rope on the sack cloth and peaked inside. If whatever was inside that sack was supposed to illicit some sort of reaction from him, it didn't seem to work. He simply looked up and said, "A thoughtful gift, but I will require one more in order to have a full set." The king scratched the stubble of his chin in a contemplative manner. "Me thinks yours should do."

"Damn, that's cold!" The Minotaur threw his head back and guffawed while his bandits thundered in a raucous fit of laughter. "He's almost as cold as you, Tauren," Roared a stout-looking earth pony from under a crudely dented iron skull cap. "Nah, he's not," bellowed the Minotaur named Tauren. "Not even close, but I'll give the little shit stain some credit."

Sombra, amid his foes' merriment, stood so still, so silent and unresponsive, one might have thought he was a statue.

"You know," the Minotaur said amidst the dwindling laughter, "I feel bad that I have to kill you. You really do entertain the shit out of me."

"I wish I could say the same to you," Sombra replied, his voice cool with contempt.

Tauren wiped a tear of mirth from his eye, dug into a satchel he had slung around his shoulder, and poured a sack of small iron balls down the barrel of his cannon. "Well," he said, "it was nice chatting with you, but you're starting to piss me off. We've an entire mansion's worth of pillaging ahead of us. There are slaves to be taken, spoils to be plundered, and hey, don't think I didn't notice all the fine looking mares you have in here. You can bet your happy ass my lads here are just dying to make their acquaintances. It feels selfish to keep them waiting, so let's just bite the bit and get this nasty bit of business over with." He hefted the canon onto his shoulder and took aim toward the king. "Any last words, shit stain?"

"Don't miss," Sombra advised.

"Hell of a line to go out on!" Tauren roared with approval. "I'll be sure to piss it in the snow after I bury you." He lit the fuse on his cannon with the tip of his cigar.

Fluttershy, Ethey, and the terrified subjects down on the floor watched in horror as the hissing fuse grew shorter. For that moment it was the only sound in existence. Until the cannon finally thundered. The king's horn erupted with black energy. The cluster of grapeshot slowed to a stop, and it was there they remained, suspended motionlessly in the king's invisible barrier.

Tauron scratched his head. "That... Doesn't usually happen..."

The balls ignited with an ominous black aura. "Nor does this, I'm willing to wager." The volley was then returned to their sender. An anguished roar, some spittle, and his cigar came flying from the Minotaur's gaping mouth when the black, crackling balls severed his legs from under him. The grapeshot that did not strike him peppered his reinforcements. Screams of pain were now echoing off all the corners of the feasting hall. Sombra started his advance at a sauntering pace. "Oh, please," he scoffed. "All I did was cut off your legs."

A Pegasus that managed to evade Sombra's counter attack sallied forth with an axe. Others who were uninjured or were still able to fight fell in beside him. The hatchet wielding berserker opened his wings and charged, but he was brained when Sombra struck him down with a steel-clad hoof. Another Pegasus descended upon him with a downthrust spear, but he suddenly found himself trapped in the king's telekinetic snare. He thrashed in a fruitless attempt to free himself before an invisible force of unimaginable strength folded him in half backwards with a loud, sickening snap. He opened his mouth to scream before he died, but all that came out was a silent gasp. Sombra released his body, allowing it to flop lifelessly on the ground before he turned around and let loose with a rapid succession of black projectiles that felled five more.

The reserves of the attack force considered their priorities as they watched the mayhem unfold. They dropped their weapons and turned to retreat, but before they could make any meaningful progress Sombra's shadow extended across the floor to give chase. The silhouette forked, branching off in the directions of each runner, then took substance and extended from the ground to impale them.

The last able-bodied fighter was a unicorn, his eyes wide with desperation as he backed into a corner and fired wave after wave of arcane missiles. Sombra batted them away with a hoof as he closed in on him. "Pathetic," he sneered, "your spells lack even the intensity to melt steel or pierce armor. What do you practice on, scarecrows? On second thought, don't answer that; you probably do." His horn glowed in preparation to return fire. "Allow me to show you how a true wizard does battle." A beam of light shot from his horn, punching through the unicorn's breastplate and painting the wall behind him with a bone fragment strewn mist. The bandit died too quick to let out so much as a yelp.

Sombra twisted around to survey the Minotaur, who was making a pitiful attempt to crawl away, his stumps smearing two sticky red trails to mark what little progress he had made. Sombra approached him. "How now, mad cow?"

Tauren, weak from blood loss, collapsed in a pool of his own spit, panting and sobbing. "Mercy," he whimpered.

"You're not laughing, laughing man?" Sombra asked. "You were laughing so much in the beginning. You laughed at me. You laughed at my claim to what used to be your territory. You laughed as you made your intentions clear to kill me, to rob me, to rape and enslave my subjects. I ask you, why are you no longer laughing? I certainly hope I didn't do or say anything to offend you."

The Minotaur murmured something.

"I didn't hear you." Sombra crushed his hand with a hard stomp. "It's rude to mutter under your breath when someone is speaking to you."

"Gods!" Tauren whined.

Sombra sat on his back and grasped a horn in each foreleg. "I know not what deities you are praying to, but if it was in their plan for you to cross paths with me, rest assured, they've no love for you." Sombra gripped the horns tight and twisted his head violently. The Minotaur roared. Another twist sent the bovine into a fit of gasping and choking as his body convulsed. Then Sombra twisted again, only much harder. Tauren's body finally went limp as the feasting hall echoed with a loud, grotesque crack. Sombra twisted again, then again, and again, and again, until the Minotaur's head was at last liberated from his body.

Fluttershy looked away, shuddering. So much death. So much pain. It was madness. Ethey took her in an embrace to calm her. "The king has done a noble thing," she insisted.

"Noble?" Fluttershy repeated incredulously.

"We could have ended up dead today, or dragged away to live out the rest of our lives as slaves. My point is that the king did what he had to do to protect you. To protect all of us."

The adviser had a point, but... "Still, he was begging for mercy. He couldn't even fight anymore."

"How many terrified and defenseless victims do you think those bandits have claimed? Did you see how excited they all were at the prospect of rape and murder? What was the king supposed to do, politely ask them to leave?"

Fluttershy could not think of a response to that.

Sombra stared into the dead eyes of his vanquished foe. "I am of the mind that an eye for an eye makes us blind, but he brought this on himself." He dropped the head on the ground with a wet smack, then turned his attention to the rough spun bag that was thrown to him just before the massacre began. "Where is Clash? Has anyone seen him?"

Ethey adjusted her glasses and said, "I, uh, I think the master-at-arms is out on his morning PT run. May I ask why you're inquiring about him, my king?"

"He's going to want to know about this." Sombra upended the bag, and the hall resonated with a collective gasp as the three golden helmets of Cadence's royal guard clattered to the floor, with the heads of the young guards still inside of them.

Ethey looked as if she had just been punched in the stomach. "Clash told them not to leave. He warned them that this would happen!" She broke down into tears. "They were jerks, but they didn't deserve this!"

Watching her cry made Fluttershy want to cry. The little adviser really did look like a helpless child at that moment. As the queen took Ethey in her arms, she looked down from the dais, at the heads of the guards. Then she looked at the lifeless body of the monster who so cruelly and so proudly snuffed out their lives. Was her husband justified in what he had done?

Her glistening eyes narrowed in outrage. It wasn't for her to judge who deserves to live or who deserves to die, but one thing was for sure: Her husband insured that those monsters would never be able to hurt anyone again.

The Mercy of The Queen

The king and a few volunteers gathered the corpses of the bandits that laid strewn and eviscerated about the feasting hall. It was a gruesome task, for which few had the constitution. Most in attendance had never so much as touched a dead body, much less look at one.

Some of the bandits were still alive, though just barely. The only signs of life they exhibited was a gurgle or a half-conscious groan. Sombra had tasked Clash to administer the finishing blow that would end the survivors' misery before he would come to collect them.

The old soldier carried out his task with an unflinching efficiency, slipping his dagger with merciful ease between their ribs. He even took note to loot their valuables, collect their weapons, and strip them of their armor before they were dragged out through the improvised exit the Minotaur had blasted into the wall, where the carcasses would be unceremoniously burned before the stench could set in.

Ethey had made to gather the heads of the young guards, but it seemed as if she couldn't bring herself to touch them. She just stared into their lifeless eyes, sobbing lightly to herself.

Clash Steelsong watched her for a silent moment before he intervened. He collected the heads one-by-one, and placed them in the threadbare sack that had been previously used to transport them. "They deserve a proper funeral," he said, his voice callous of emotion.

Sombra lifted the body of the bandit whose spine he had severed and slung him over his back like a sack of corn. "You knew them, did you not?"

"Aye," the old master-at-arms replied.

"I will leave it to you to notify their next of kin."

"I will do this," Clash agreed.

"Good," The king replied, carrying the corpse out to the pile so that it could be burned with the others. "We will honor them at sunset. I know not your current burial traditions, so I will leave the procession to you."

Clash respectfully closed the eye lids of the last head and placed it in the sack. "From what that demented cow told you, it sounded like they died fighting. They deserve a warriors' funeral, my king. The practice is a bit outdated, but back in my day there was no better way to honor a fallen comrade." He cast a mournful gaze upon the heads of the young guards and added, "They may not have been proper soldiers, but they met their end with courage. In truth, they should have fled. They most likely would have lived if they did." The melancholy old soldier punctuated the end of his sentence by closing the sack with one sharp yank of its cord. "To be young and invincible. I remember those days."

"There is no such thing as invincibility. The only sure thing about life is that it will eventually end," Sombra intoned with an experienced certainty. "We are all born with nooses around our necks."

Clash Steelsong allowed himself a sad smile and jested, "With every word you speak you manage to put the most cynical of poets to shame, my king."

"Cynicism is but the absence of ignorance," declared the king, the matter of fact tone in his voice rendering his delivery void of all emotion. "Life's misfortunes and tragedies yield few surprises for those who expect them."

Must he be so nihilistic in times like these? The queen thought while she surveyed the terrified looks on the faces of her populace. Fluttershy looked with silent pity on those who were struggling to come to grips with what they had just seen. They trembled as they clutched their families and whispered calming words to one another. A stallion sat at one of the benches with a vacant look in his eyes, while a few others just silently hung their heads, trembling. A young girl was laying by herself on the floor in a fetal position while babbling to herself unintelligibly.

There were a few, however, who were not among the terrified mass. There were those who were now holding the king in admiration for what he had done. For them, the king was now their sentinel, their dispenser of justice, their bastion of protection that stood staunchly between them and the dangers that inhabited the frozen wasteland that was now their home. They worked hard to clear the rubble in their desire to gain his favor.

The queen directed her gaze toward the large hole in the wall as a sudden icy gale assailed her. It wouldn't be long before the harsh northern elements claimed the feasting hall under a thick layer of snow. "We'll need a crew to begin immediate repairs on that wall," she announced to anyone who would hear her.

"Leave that to me, my queen," volunteered a large red stallion. Fluttershy recognized the brute as the stone mason, whom she had noticed on her first night at the mansion repairing floor tiles. "I've been working construction all my life," he continued. "My lads and I can have this all patched up by tomorrow morning."

"Tommorrow morning?" Fluttershy said, legitimately impressed as she scanned the crumbling wall. "But, there's so much to do."

"We'll have to work through the night, but we can get it done."

"Very well, I'll see that you're all suitably compensated for your hard work," Fluttershy said with an amiable smile. She wasn't quite sure how she would reward them, but it sounded like a queenly thing to say at the time. She remembered Sombra mentioning something about a vast accumulation of treasure he had plundered over his years of living their alone. She would need to look into that later.

The mason turned around to face the toiling ponies that were the clean up crew. "Alright, boys," he shouted, his voice booming with the commanding tone of an old foreman. "By order of the queen, that wall needs patchin'. Anyone in my crew interested in a little bonus on your next paycheck, step up!"

Several burly stallions from the cleaning crew rose dutifully to the call.

Fluttershy was surprised by the alacrity of the workers as they eagerly carried out her orders. She couldn't deny that the respect and the authority she now had was starting to feel good. She found herself staring into her reflection on the tile floor, her crown gleaming brightly. She traced her hoof along the fine furred edge of her cape. The shy and unobtrusive little Fluttershy had literally become a queen over night. Everything was just happening at such an insane pace. One moment, it was like she was living in a nightmare. The next, she was falling in love, and that nightmare had become a dream.

"My king!" a mare suddenly called out. Both Sombra and Fluttershy immediately directed their attention toward her. The maid retreated toward the king and hid behind him like a frightened little filly taking refuge behind her father. She pointed to one of the collapsed tables near the hole in the wall, which was inexplicably shifting and jostling around on its own. "I think one of them is still here!"

"Everyone," the king shouted upon noticing the anomaly, "take cover." The subjects, now that they knew this was not an order to be ignored, did as he said. The construction workers and cleaning crew dropped their tools and ran to take refuge with the traumatized families and individuals against the wall on the opposite side of the hall.

The king stepped protectively in front of Fluttershy, and with one urgent flick of his horn, he cleared the shattered table, hurling a volley of splinters and broken boards against the stone wall with a powerful telekenetic blast of energy.

Laying curled under the pile was the young male griffin from earlier, who had stepped forward from the group of marauders to toss the sack of heads at the king's hoofs. He laid curled up like a bony ball of skin and feathers, a talon over his mouth in a failed attempt to staunch his own terrified sobs. His eyes widend the moment he realized his cover was gone. He forced himself onto his paws and spread his wings in an attempt to escape, but just as he became airborne he was blasted with a gout of searing light.

Sombra watched silently as the boy plummeted to the ground with a light thud, a lazy wisp of smoke rising from the tip of his horn. "I was wondering where that one ran off to." And he converged on the crippled griffin like a lion stalking a lamb. Slow and sinister was his pace.

"Wait a minute," Fluttershy objected. "You're not going to kill that child, are you?"

"I'm not killing a child," Sombra declared, glowering over the helpless cub. "I'm executing a brigand." His horn began to glow in preparation for a fatal finishing shot.

The child could only look up at him with eyes wide and wet with terror. He did not cry out for mercy. He did not try to run away. He just sat there, frozen, as streams dampened his cheeks and a puddle of his own terror expanded on the floor beneath him.

Fluttershy knew she had to move, and she had to do it quick. First she broke into a sprint, and when she realized her legs would never carry her fast enough, she spread her wings and desperately rushed forward at a potentially hazardous speed. She knew she was not as fast as Rainbow Dash, but she could swear that at that moment her speed could shatter the sound and light barrier to produce a Sonic Rainboom of her own.

Her body collided with the griffin's. The queen braced her arms protectively around him as the momentum sent them tumbling across the floor, flipping, spinning, bouncing and bowling, over and under. When they eventually stopped, she hugged the surprised boy protectively against her bosom as she looked up and observed the singed, smoking stone tiles where her husband's projectile had made impact. Fluttershy could smell burning hair. She looked down and realized the tip of her tail had been grazed.

"I could have killed you!" King Sombra admonished, bellowing. "Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"You could have killed this defenseless child!" The queen fired back. "Have you taken leave of your soul?"

"He's a bandit!"

"He's just a baby!" Fluttershy yelled so fiercely her voice was almost a scream. She could feel the young griffin digging his tremulous little talons into her for dear life, as if he had realized she was his only hope for survival. The little boy shook and sobbed. His claws stung as they dug into her, but Fluttershy paid no attention to the pain. The way he clung to her with such terror and desperation only strengthened her desire to protect him, and protect him she would do, if it was the last thing she did. "Are you so twisted that you can't tell the difference between a cold-blooded killer and an innocent child?"

"Innocent?" Sombra spat, closing the distance between them. "The little beast was nothing if not eager to present his sack of grizzly party favors to me, and you call him innocent?" Sombra stopped to glower intimidatingly down at her. And he said, with a voice dark with intent, "Give me the boy."

Fluttershy defiantly tightened her protective grip around the griffin. Looking him directly in the eye, she said, "I won't let you harm this defenseless little baby!"

"Stop calling him that!" The king demanded.

"But he is!"

"He's a bandit," Sombra repeated. "He'd slit your throat in your sleep just to make off with your pocket change as quick as he'd look at you."

"Why is everything so black and white with you!" Fluttershy challenged. "He's still just a child. Look how terrified he is. Are you seriously going to compare him to those battle-hardened savages you just slaughtered?"

"The facts themselves are black and white" The king shouted. "He's a bandit! You can use all the honeyed words you wish to describe him, but at the end of the day, all he is is a murderer and slaver!"

Fluttershy's next words managed to tumble out of her mouth before she could consider them, but once they had, there was know denying that they were the truth. "So were you at one time. And you were the worst of them all, your majesty!" There was a harsh bite in her tone when she ended that sentence.

Sombra fell silent, looking as if he had been physical wounded by the poison-soaked daggers that were her words. His expression went from surprise, to a festering, implacable rage. He let out a frustrated growl as his horn began to glow.

At that moment, Fluttershy thought she and the child were going to die.

A horrible, earth shattering roar broke from the king's lips as he reared back, whipped around, and furiously launched a missile toward the pile of corpses outside. Black flames erupted from the point of impact, incinerating the bodies to ashes instantly. The heat was so intense, all that was left of evidence that anything had ever existed in that one spot was a crater lined with glass where the soil had been immolated.

The griffin finally managed to find his voice in his fear and let out a muffled shriek of terror as he buried his face into Fluttershy's chest.

The hall was silent, save for the griffin's terrified whimpers.

"M-my king?" Ethey dared.

Sombra turned around to face her, and they beheld his eyes. Two terrifying orbs glowing so intensely they obscured the red of his irises. An eerie wisp of purple smoke seemed to be emanating from them. Fluttershy trembled upon baring witness to them. He truly did look like a demon now.

"A-are y-ou well?" the adviser stammered.

"Never better," Sombra replied with an unsettling calmness about him, and he started toward the hole in the wall. The gloom outside was illuminated by the aura of green light his eyes so fiercely emitted. The very air around them seared with blurred tendrils as he inspected the ground. "Minataurs," Sombra finally said. It appeared as if he was merely speaking to himself. "Heavy, lumbering creatures... Tend to leave very deep prints... Makes them easy to track..." The snow shuffled under his steel-clad hooves as he began toward an unknown destination.

"Where are you going, my king?" Clash finally asked.

The king stopped, though he didn't look back. "They know about us. They're most likely nearby. They'll soon be wondering why their raiding party has yet to return. I think I should pay them a visit."

The old soldier blanched. "You're going to lay siege to a bandit keep all on your own?"

The king's eyes continued to glow with that terrifying intensity as he looked back at him. They were not in the form of a glare or scowl, but perfectly round, expressionless orbs of green fire. "I am in a foul mood. Question me one more time and you will join your comrades in that sack."

Clash, despite his breadth of battle experience and military discipline, faltered under the king's terrifying gaze. "I, uh... A thousand apologies, your grace."

The king turned without another word and resumed his march along the deep tracks the bandits had made.

"When are you going to be back?" Fluttershy forced herself to say, but her husband made no reply. He simply walked until he was out of sight.

She shivered at first. Among the horrors she had bared witness to that day, those eyes were by far the most terrifying. She gazed down at the young griffin, who still clung to her like his life depended on it. "Hey," Fluttershy said to him, as gently as she could manage. "It's over now."

The griffin refused to budge. Fluttershy wondered if he could even hear her. "Hey, little guy." She gently rocked him to get his attention, but her efforts would only bare her the same results as before. That was when the queen noticed how scrawny he was. His face was gaunt, and his spine and ribs protruded form his back as if he was merely a skeleton wrapped in wax paper that had been tared and feathered. Fluttershy smiled. "You hungry?" she said sweetly.

The young griffin's trembling ceased as he gazed up at her with a curious gleam in his eyes.

Despite the dire situation she was in only moments ago, Fluttershy giggled. "I'll take that as a yes."

The Snake, The Mouse, And The Mongoose

Author's Note

No, those are not typos or grammatical errors in the beginning. Yes, those are Russian/Eastern European accents they are speaking in. Because, reasons. :rainbowlaugh:

The Snake, The Mouse, And The Mongoose

Sentry duty was the most boring thing imaginable for Hammer. The only perks the job had was that it was easy, and every once in a while a slave would bring him a pitcher of mulled wine to warm him. The stronghold he guarded was a circular compound of sturdy, story-high logs with tips that had been carved into points. When looking down on it from above it looked like a rounded row of massive wooden stakes protruding from the ground.

Hammer and his brother Sickle patrolled along the lofty deck which gave them as much a view over the tips of the log wall as the snows and fogs would allow them, occasionally meeting up near the front gate to chat. It was the beginning of the sixth hour in their twelve hour shift when they finally met up at the usual place for some refreshments. Sickle was already there when he arrived.

Sickle was the smaller of the two Pegasus brothers, who's cutey mark was, as one could guess, a sickle. It represented his willingness to work hard and do whatever he needed to in order to survive. To him, the world was but a field of plunder to be harvested. It was a philosophy that made him perfect for his occupation. He could lead raids, he could fight, he could track down caravans and unsuspecting travelers from leagues away, he didn't mind guard duty, and he made for an excellent overseer. His whip arm was strong, and despite him being small in stature, he could be intimidating. His versatility was what made him useful to their boss. The thin, lean stallion was pouring two cups of hot wine for his brother and himself as Hammer approached.

"Always the first to the wine, I see," Hammer laughed, his muscular barrel chest heaving with amusement.

"Are you to be implying that I am greedy?" chuckled Sickle. "Do you not see me pouring a cup for you as well?"

"You probably meaning to pour two for yourself," Hammer accused, though it was in a humorous sort of way.

Sickle pulled up a stool with his cup and gazed over the wall with a pensive expression. "Do you think boss will return soon?"

Hammer took a seat at the small wooden table and reached for his mug. "Hard to say. The scouts reported large house with lots of ponies. If they put up fight it could take a while. It all depends on their numbers." He downed his wine with one hard swallow, then eyed the bowl of fresh produce that had been set out for them on the table. Drawing his dagger from a sheathe secured with a leather thong around his left arm, he skewered a fresh red onion and bit into it. Hammer preferred beats, especially when cooked into a borscht, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Sickle, unlike his boar of a brother, sipped at his wine to saver its flavor. He smiled and said, "It would be stupid of them to fight back."

"I agree. Though, I am looking forward to getting an eye full of that plunder. A mansion must have lots of valuable trinkets."

Sickle grimaced, as if the wine had gone sour upon passing his lips. "Not like I'll get any of it. Tauren insists I still owe him. He will take my share for himself again, I have no doubt."

"He still going off about that slave you killed?" Hammer inquired as he helped himself to another cup.

"He won't let me forget. I ask you, what good is slave who says no to you? She was slave. I was master. She say no to me, so I teach her lesson."

"Stupid brother, what will slave girl learn from being dead?"

Sickle shrugged, as if the act he had committed was on par with forgetting to take the trash out. "I didn't mean to kill her. I only meant to chastise her... I get carried away, I suppose." He took another sip from his cup before adding, "The girl became slave recently, I can tell. The ones who are born into it, following orders is all that they know. But the ones who are captured and made into slaves, they are trouble makers. They must be constantly reminded that they are nothing but property, or they will forget."

Hammer noticed a large black bird fluttering to the tip of one of the spiked logs. Its feathers were the darkest shade of black he had ever seen, with the most peculiar green eyes. It sat perched upon the point and looked as if it was making deliberate eye contact with him.

"Hey brother," Sickle said, seemingly oblivious the strange bird's presence. "The scouts mention lots of potential slaves. Do you think boss will bring back some girls?"

"Perhaps," Hammer replied, but his heart was no longer in the conversation. Strange birds of the same variety were now landing all around them. On the deck, around the wall, upon the structures within the keep. They crowed and squawked like normal birds did, but there was something about their lack of movement once they had landed that was unnerving. "Hey, brother."

"I see them," replied Sickle, who was now beginning to look rather unsettled upon noticing the winged creatures. "What is happening?"

The others in the keep were noticing them now. Slavers as well as slaves stopped what they were doing to gawk at the crows gathering all around them. Hundreds were perched squawking through the keep as thousands more flew in a black spiral in the sky above, like a dark, ominous vortex. The commerce around the keep yielded to the sounds of the hawking birds and skirling winds.

One of the strange birds landed on the table near a mug and squawked. Sickle grasped his cup and used the flat bottom surface to crush the bird where it stood. "They are just birds," Sickle laughed. "See how easy they die, brother?"

"I... I suppose," Hammer stammered.

They watched the peculiar crow until its crushed body began to seize up and fidget about. Its crushed bones began to heal right before them. Its twisted neck and spine made several loud pops as it twisted and contorted back to shape. The brothers paled when the crow leaped to its feet and shot its assailant a look that resembled a green, glowing glare.

The eye of every crow in the keep and overhead, like little beads of jade, were now focused on Sickle. The Pegasus looked around nervously. "Brother, we should leave. I have bad feeling."

"We cannot abandon station," Hammer protested. "Tauren will have us flogged."

Sickle reached again for his mug, but just as he did every crow above and below squawked in unison like a warcry. The sound they emitted was unbearably shrill. Just as Sickle was clapping his hooves over his ears, the crows converged on him.

"Brother!" Hammer screamed.

Sickle thrashed and wailed until he lost his footing and fell from the scaffolding. The snow gathering below managed to cushion his fall, but the birds continued to screech and squawk and peck and rake furiously at his flesh. They gathered upon him until he was a thrashing, screaming, kicking mass of flailing black feathers.

Slave and soldier alike scattered over each other in a panic when the birds finally dispersed, leaving nothing behind but the mangled remains of the Pegasus that had once been Hammer's brother.

Hammer's state of shock rendered him unable to move as he watched the crows rip his terrified comrades to pieces, his station at the rampart offering him a grizzly view of the carnage. The chaos in the keep continued on like a writhing mass of ants clambering over each other while the crows began to assemble at the center of the camp.

Black wings flailed and feathered bodies collided to form one large shape. The dark birds' bodies swirled into an amalgamation that resembled something of an inky blot of a stallion. A horn protruded from its head. Eyes like two hauntingly green spheres lined with amethyst wisps of phantom light suddenly opened on what appeared to be the dark masses' face.

Desperation and self preservation finally kicked in. Without thinking Hammer unslung his crossbow, took aim, and fired at the specter. The bolt whistled harmlessly through the figure, as if it was nothing but a body of black smoke. That was when the thing's eyes fell upon him, and the stallion's bowels turned to water. Its horn began to gleam, and a flash of light was the last thing the bandit saw before his flesh and bone was reduced to nothing but a fine, dark ash scattering into the wind.

"Is there nothing I can do to convince you to stay?" Fluttershy pleaded with the boyfriend of the pregnant mare.

"I'm sorry," he offered, gently stroking his girlfriend's hoof. "The baby will be do any day now, and I... I don't know how to say this without offending you, but this just isn't a safe place to raise a child. Between those bandits and your husband's explosive temper, I can't believe we're still alive."

"My husband would never hurt you," Fluttershy insisted. "He protected you today, can't you see that?"

"You call that protection?" Countered the mare. "That monster slaughtered those stallions without so much as blinking an eye!"

"Honey, please," the stallion attempted in a calming tone.

"Don't you 'honey please' me," the mare cut him off. "What will we do if we're attacked again?"

"My husband wil--

"Your husband will what? Murder them? Like he did the others? I shutter to imagine the damage it would cause if our baby were to witness such violence for himself." She tenderly stroked her belly, shuttering over the prospects. "His little mind wouldn't be able to take it. H-he'd be traumatized, probably grow up to be a serial killer, or some horrible thing."

"Sombra only did what he had--

"Killing is never the answer!" The mare shouted over the queen before she could conclude her sentence. "Those stallions may have been brutes, but each and every single one of them was somebody's baby! That monster you call your husband killed them in cold blood!" The unhinged mare then broke down into tears. "No one has the right to kill someone else!" she sobbed. "No one! I don't care what the reason is..."

Fluttershy did not appreciate the accusation in her words - but she had to remember she was pregnant. The horror of the day's events, the hormones intermingling with the stresses of becoming a mother, it would concoct a volatile mixture of emotion for any mare. The queen herself should be so stable if the situation was reversed. "If Sombra hadn't done what he did, there's a good chance that your baby would be born into slavery," she said, carefully. "Is that not a good enough reason for you?"

The inconsolable mare wiped her tears away. "No, it's not. There's always another way. Killing is just the easy solution."

"That may be," Ethey came in, "but you can't argue that its an effective one." The little mare approached them, her face still puffy from her tears. "I love how all you seem to care about were the lives of those 'poor helpless bandits'. What about the royal guards?"

"I feel bad for them too, but two wrongs don't make a right," the mare insisted.

"I agree," said Ethey, "but can you show me when and where this supposed second wrong was done? Look, It would be nice if everyone in the world thought like you, but they don't, sad to say. There are only the field mice who think like you, and the snakes who prey upon them."

"And which one is Sombra?" said the pregnant mare smugly, as if she had assumed she just trapped the adviser in her own analogy. "He's certainly not a mouse, so, according to you, what does that make him?"

"Sombra is the mongoose that comes along and kicks the snakes' ass."

The mare fumed. Instead of replying to the adviser's quip she turned again to the queen and said, "Look, I'm not here to debate morality with either of you. The king offered safe passage for anyone who wished to leave. My boyfriend and I want to leave. Now."

"If that is your wish," Fluttershy conceded. "But I implore you to be patient. We need to make sure the passage is safe before we send you."

"When will that be?" pressed the mare.

"Soon," replied the queen.

"How soon?"

"I already told you." Fluttershy did what she could to restrain the ire in her tone, but it was beginning to breach the surface. She was already stressed to the point of wanting to cry, and this mare's insufferable attitude wasn't making things easier for her. "When I can guarantee you safe passage. Not. A second. Before."

"We want to leave now!"

The queen's eyes narrowed as her patience had reached their limit. "And ponies in Tartarus want ice water!" she finally snapped. The mare, her boyfriend, and even Ethey flinched under her sudden shift in tone. "We are done speaking about this. Go back to your quarters and rest. I'll send for you once I have insured the path is safe." The mother-to-be tried to say something else, but Fluttershy raised an authoritative hoof. "We will speak no more of this." And without another word, she flicked her cape and whirled around on her hooves, leaving the couple there in the feasting hall to glower indignantly at her back as she walked away.

"You handled that nicely," critiqued Ethey.

"I feel bad for them. I'll have to remember to apologize before I send them off." Fluttershy mooned guiltily at the ground while she strode along the bright rushes of the manse's corridor. "That makes ten in total who want to leave now. At this rate, there will be no one left."

"Hey now, don't say that," Ethey said in a poorly attempted upbeat tone. "I'll still be here. So will Clash. It's not like we have anywhere else to go. And don't forget that Sombra has managed to gather his own little fanbase of followers. I doubt they'll want to leave."

"Sombra," Fluttershy mused. "He was so angry when he left. When he comes back and finds out that nearly a fraction of the staff wants to leave... How will that make him feel?"

"Can't say he'll be happy, but he can't blame you for that, now can he?"

"I suppose." The queen stopped when she arrived at the library entrance.

"Checking up on the little guy?"

"I just want to make sure he's okay."

"I'll leave you to it, then," Ethey said. "If you don't have anything in particular for me to do, I'm going to go see if Clash needs help with the funeral preparations. Remember, the service will be conducted at sunset in the garden."

Fluttershy nodded. "I'll be there," she assured, and the two parted ways. The Queen shut the library door behind her, and finally she allowed herself to cry. She had been holding her emotions back for so long, she just couldn't contain it anymore. So many things were happening to her all at once, what with the PTS-inducing carnage she had been forced to bare witness to that morning, the death of Cadence's guards, granting numerous audiences with those demanding leave, overseeing the construction of the wall, her husband's outburst, not to mention him disallowing her from seeing her friends. It was as if a lifetime's worth of stress and woe had decided to strike all on one day. The phrase 'when it rains, it pours' came to mind as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

As she ascended toward the nook she forced her emotions back. The terrified little griffon looked to her for comfort. She couldn't let him sense her distress. Upon entering her lofty study that overlooked the library, she could see that the child was asleep under the pile of blankets where she had left him. A stack of plates lay on the desk where he had devoured every leftover from breakfast she could gather for him. It broke her heart to watch him eat. It was as if he went into a state of berserk the moment he caught a scent of the rolls and omelettes she had brought him.

When the griffon had finally had his fill he wanted to be held again. Fluttershy had to force back a tear as she cradled him in the corner. He was still so scared, the poor thing.

Why he wasn't speaking, she couldn't tell. The Queen had asked him several times if he could speak, to which he would nod, but that's all he would do. She had asked him his name, if he knew where his parents were, how old he was, but he would just give her that same silent, pitiful look each time. She toyed with the notion that he was perhaps mute, but that couldn't have been true. She knew she heard him scream when Sombra incinerated the bodies of the bandits outside the feasting hall in his fit of rage.

Fluttershy had left the griffon there to rest, but not before she brought him some blankets and a pillow to rest his head on. She had decided that this would be the best place for him at the moment. Being a sufferer of anxiety herself, she could understand the need to hide away in a small, cozy, secluded place such as this, away from prying eyes.

When Fluttershy laid down next to him, she noticed the remnants of deep cuts under his thick coat of feathers. Most of the scars were on his chest and wings, which he had most likely earned from fighting with rival bandits or participating in raids. Upon her inspection she was able to discern some sort of round symbol that had been burned into his haunch. The flesh had been seared long ago and the fur had refused to grow back. Old cuts like stripes of raised skin covered his forearms. Defensive wounds, perhaps - when he had naught but his talons as a means of protection when fending away an attacker armed with some kind of blade...

Overwhelmed with pity, she wrapped her arms around the boy and held him. 'How did you get those scars?' she wished she could ask him. 'How many terrible things have you seen in the few years that you've live?'

The griffon let out a chirp before its feathery chest continued to rise and fall with its soft little snores.

What kind of hell was this peninsula, Fluttershy thought, where such a young child could be subjected to this kind of cruelty? It was then that speculation struck her: Was this the real reason why her husband was here? All the time his spirit had to roam the land, he must have traveled and witnessed countless horrors in this place. She could imagine how, over time, it may have changed him. This must have been his reason for forsaking his rule of the Chrystal Empire, in spite of it being his birthright, and wanting to return to this literal Celestia-forsaken piece of the country. Sombra's ambitions were not motivated by a hunger for power or innate desire for conquest, but a want to bring rule to a savage land where there was none.

That was his declaration of intent he had made when he delivered his first speech to his subjects in the feasting hall: To extend his reach across this wild land. To destroy, to conquer, and then rebuild. To forge a great nation that Celestia and her 'intrepid band of pompous Alicorns' could only dream of. Those words... Those powerful words... They were not truly resonating with her until now. His claims didn't mean much to her then, but now, they were giving her goosebumps.

The Queen could not be sure if her husband's goal was merely a road to Tartarus that was paved with good intentions. There would be war. There would be death. There would be more pain and misery before his ultimate aim would be realized. Could the ends truly justify the means?

It wasn't until she looked down at the boy again when the iron will of conviction began to set in her heart. There was no philosophy to morality. There were only the cold, hard facts she had realized upon reflecting on the day's experiences: There was evil, there are those who set out to punish evil, and there are those who stand on the sidelines and criticize both sides for their methods without offering any kind of effective resolution. Neutrality was not a solution. You either aided one faction to victory, or become a victim.

The snake. The mongoose. The Mouse.

Fluttershy held the child firmly against her chest, as if the helpless little griffon was the very symbol for which she was ready to fight. She would no longer be a mouse, and she refused to join the snakes. If fate would force her to take a side, she would be left with only one option.

The emotionally exhausted queen eventually closed her eyes. Her intentions were to rest them for only a few short moments, but without meaning to she drifted into a light slumber alongside the child. Her last thought was a reflection upon her husband's wisdom that he had imparted unto her. There are two types of rulers in this world: There are those who do as they will, and there are those who do as they must.

Liberation In The North

The first time the queen had laid eyes upon the snowy garden, the area had been enveloped in an impenetrable fog. It was sunset now, and the sun had long since eaten away at the thick morning mists, revealing the numerous stone and metal statues stationed throughout the area. There was no method or order to how they were positioned, those creations of a colt who had gone mad with loneliness and boredom. They were merely scattered here and there, rusted and falling apart like the crumbling sentinels of a forgotten age that they were.

A somber mood had swept over the crowd by the time Clash was ready to give the eulogy. A small pyre stood behind him, on top of which laid the heads of the three royal guards. Clash refused to cover them up. The seamstress had offered him three individual sacks of finely woven cloth to put them in, but he had politely declined the offer.

To an old fashioned soldier like him, concealing a warrior's remains in a casket or any other kind of container was disrespectful. It was believed that a soldier who had perished on the battlefield deserved to be honored, and their was no better way to do so than putting their war-torn bodies on display for all to admire and behold.

Many in the crowd who could not bare the site looked away, or kept their heads down.

"Witness them!" Clash demanded. "Look at them. Remember their faces before we send them off. Imprint in your minds the visages of these brave young stallion's so that we may never forget them."

Fluttershy was one of the few who refused to look away. She could understand why this old tradition was no longer practiced, but she couldn't deny that it made for a powerful send off. It had a dignity about it that seemed somewhat honorable to her. She wanted to remember the guards' faces. It was the least she could do for them.

She could sense the stallions and mares and children in attendance stealing curious glances at her, and, as if to follow in her example, they too complied and forced themselves to gaze upon the remains of the royal guards, macabre as the site was.

"We honor them," Clash said as he lit the head of a torch.

"We honor them," echoed the queen. She was not rehearsed nor required to do so, but if felt like the right thing to do.

Again, all in participation followed her example. "We honor them," everyone repeated.

The old soldier held the torch aloft and said, "If anyone would like to speak, friends, family, acquaintances, It doesn't matter, come forth and speak for them."

One-by-one ponies rose to share testimonies and fond memories of the guards that had been killed. Only one guard seemed to have a blood relative that had made the trek to the peninsula with them. Others were friends new and old. Most of the stories they shared were funny, heartwarming little snippets that did poorly to break the sense of depression that loomed over the service.

The last among them was Ethey, who had not stopped crying since the discovery of the guards' deaths. "He was my first crush," she had revealed to everyone, weeping without restraint. She had been speaking of the lead guard that had openly criticized Clash for his decision to cast his allegiance with Sombra. The heartbreak in the tiny mare's voice was so evident that Fluttershy was no longer able to contain her own emotions as she listened to her.

"I'll admit that we didn't always get along," Ethey continued, "but I still admired him. To think I'll never see that cocky smirk of his ever again." The adviser tried to say more, but she had begun to cry so profusely that her dialogue had trailed off into an unintelligible mixture of sobs and stutters.

The queen stroked her back with a sympathetic hoof. She had no idea how special the guard was to her. From the way they argued in the hall, who could have guessed?

Clash waited patiently to see if anyone else had something to add before he hefted his torch and once again said, "We honor them."

The mantra was repeated throughout the crowd, and the old soldier lit the pyre.

Fluttershy sighed. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she gazed upward at the waning sunset. The smoke from the pyre blurred the image into a picturesque illustration of a globular conflagration that flooded the Western skyline with vivid hues of pink and red and gold, the surrounding clouds like intricate cathedrals that had been set ablaze by its intensity. The wind fell still, as if nature herself was paying her respects.

The little griffon beside her looked curiously at his surroundings. 'Why is everyone crying?' his inquisitive eyes seemed to say. It wasn't unreasonable to surmise that the child was simply too young to understand.

He lifted a talon to intercept the tear running down the queen's cheek. The child shook his head, then smiled and pointed at his beak, as if to say, 'No, don't be sad. Smile, like this.'

Fluttershy did not resist the urge to pick him up and hug him. How can something so sweet come from such a horrible place?

The griffon, welcoming the warmth of her embrace, made a sound that was half a pur and half a chirp.

"I, Clash Steelsong," the old soldier intoned, "first of my name, former Master Sergeant of Celestia's Royal Infantry, former Chief Petty Officer of Princess Cadence's Royal Guard, and current master-at-arms under his royal highness King Sombra, relieve you of your worldly duties. May your souls rest easy, may your cups in the hereafter be ever-flowing, and may your ride to The Elysian Fields be swift." The soldier then thrust the tip of his torch into the snow, snuffing it out with a loud, angry hiss.

Every eye was now closed and every head was bowed. The sun proceeded to descend behind the snow-capped mountains as the pyre burned on.

It was not until the fire had begun to fade into smoldering ashes and glowing cinders, and the first stars began to twinkle in the darkening indigo sky when Clash was finally ready to excuse everyone. "I thank you all for coming," he said. "We must all remember that life is precious. Life is one of those things that can not be purchased or sold. Life should never... Be... Spent..." His speech trailed off when he turned his head and began to squint at something in the distance.

Fluttershy and all in attendance focused a collective gaze toward the direction in which the soldier was now looking.

From a snowy hill visible between the tall iron bars surrounding the garden, Sombra could be seen marching toward them. Murmurs and nervous hushed voices broke out in the crowd as they observed his advance.

He survived the siege, was Fluttershy's first thought. She hadn't realized how ridiculous she was for worrying about him until she saw him. Of course, he survived. He's Sombra, after all. Her worries, however, were immediately replaced with anxiety. Now that he was back, would he still be angry with her? Would he make another attempt on the griffon child's life?

Fluttershy had a lot of time to reflect on the words she had used against her husband that morning, and she deeply regretted them. There had to have been a million different things she could have said to give her husband cause to relent from his assault.

Her husband had confided in her the night before. He had shared his history in its entirety with her. Then she turned around and weaponized it against him. The fear that had gripped Fluttershy when she bared witness to her husband's rage was bad, but the guilt she felt afterwards was worse.

She could feel the young griffon now, his claws digging into her hind leg as he made an attempt to hide behind her. She urgently picked him up and held him tightly to her bosom. "There there," she said, gently rocking him. "I promised you I'd keep you safe from him, and I mean to keep that promise." The child was trembling again. Her attempts to soothe him had gone unheard.

When the king drew closer, the anxious murmurings of the crowd turned to those of curiosity, as there appeared to be others traveling with him. Stallions, mares, colts, fillies, griffons as well as a few zebras accompanied him. Some of them pulled wagons and carts filled with indeterminable amounts of cargo. Sombra himself was hauling a litter filled with passengers as gaggles of Laughing, whooping children ran along side him.

"They're not brigands, are they?" Fluttershy could hear someone asking nervously. "Doubt it," another said. "You've seen what the king does to bandits. And just look at them. Not a single one of them are armed."

The curious onlookers could only continue to bare witness to the odd site as their king approached the gate. Sombra's horn glowed, and the massive bars parted for all within his company to enter.

"I appear to be late," he said, releasing the harness for his wagon, then observing the smoldering pyre. "It was not my intent to miss the funeral. Respect for the dead is a tradition that even king's aren't above honoring."

Everyone just gawked silently at the king and his company.

"Slaves, all of them," the king announced, before anyone could put the question to him. "But no longer."

Fluttershy espied the litter that the king had been pulling. The passengers on board were all grotesquely emaciated - some so badly they could be mistaken for decaying corpses upon a glance.

The king was about to add something, but a shrill, desperate voice suddenly called out, "Zuzu! Where are you, baby!"

The little griffon's head popped up from Fluttershy's chest like a jack in the box.

A female griffon came forth from the throng of freed slaves. "Zuzu, where are you!" she cried out hysterically. "Come to mama, baby!"

The child thrashed free from Fluttershy's arms and ran frantically toward the wailing female griffon. The two made what could only be described as a collision when they threw their arms around each other, and the mother of the griffon named Zuzu collapsed with him in her embrace, crying. "My Zuzu," she sniffed. "My precious little Zuzu!"

Fluttershy's bewildered gaze kept shifting from her husband, to the griffons. Sombra gave her an expressionless look that was utterly void of legibility. "You do not have to tell me," he said, an irritable pang of what could almost be interpreted as guilt woven within his tone. "I am a fool."

The joy was palpable, and the food and drink was plenty. Tears of happiness were shed, and the wine and ale flowed like an endless river. Tankards and mugs clattered thunderously over the tables after grateful toasts were made to the king's health, and eager vows of eternal loyalty were sworn. Children who were once captive slaves and those who had traveled with their parents from the Crystal Empire chased each other freely up and down the hall, while others happily guzzled down copious amounts of sweets and cider.

Troops of bards who were once branded slaves combined their talents to fill Sombra's hall with music. Loots, guitars, bongos, violins, tambourines, maracas, harps, accordions, and an exotic plethora of other instruments Fluttershy had no name for were strummed, thrummed, and drummed. Together they filled the hall with an eastern gypsy theme laced with a modernized variety of Baroque and Victorian and Cabaret overtones. It was such a strangely pleasant mixture.

Fluttershy was intoxicated by the atmosphere the music created. The players' communicated well their joy and renewed vigor through their shanties, boleros, ballads and sonnets, as if they were the audible embodiments of mirth themselves.

Her king did not take his normal seat at the dais that night. There was simply too much work to do. Nevermore at one point approached him with the concern that, with the sudden population boom, they may be running out of food sooner than scheduled, but Sombra had put her worries to ease when he showed her the wagons of plunder he had brought back with him. Not a single shiny trifle nor one bit of gold was inside of them. Instead, they were packed beyond capacity with tools, building materials, medicine, and hordes upon hordes of spices, grains and produce.

If that hadn't been enough to alleviate her of her worries, the king introduced his cook to a former slave who went by the name of Petunia Greenhoof, whom had mastered the art of growing food in even the most barren and inhospitable terrain. "She will pass her skills on to some of the others, and before long we will have thriving fields and orchards," Sombra had declared. "No one will starve, I assure you."

While Sombra and a hoof full of volunteers sorted out the plunder and saw to the construction of the freed slaves' temporary lodgings, Fluttershy busied herself with the task of insuring that the needs of every new resident of the manse was met. She enjoyed the task, for it took her mind off the more dower events of the day. Ethey, of course, was with her every step of the way, armed with her trusty clipboard.

Fluttershy laughed when she was pulled aside by a group of rowdy stallions who wanted her to drink with them. When she informed them that she was their queen, and the stallion who had single hoovedly killed their captors was her husband, they traded nervous glances before returning to their business.

"Those guys were actually hitting on you," Ethey laughed. The adviser was finally able to smile again, though there was still a lingering sadness in her eyes.

"They're just in high spirits," Fluttershy replied. "So long as they're not causing any trouble, I don't mind."

The two eventually happened upon an entrancingly gorgeous mare sitting cross legged at the edge of one of the tables, whose skirt was just short enough to reveal a sheathed dagger secured by a lacy black garter. With enamoring, almond-shaped eyes like violet starfire and a coat like sable she sawed mellifluously at a violin.

"That's very pretty," Fluttershy commented.

The mare flicked a thick tumble of dark ashen locks over her shoulder. "Why, thank you," she replied, her musical voice and exotic accent carrying a high note that was crisp and pleasant like the trill of a songbird. "I am quite a spectacle of beauty, am I not?"

"I was talking about the song you were playing," Fluttershy said.

"Is that so?" the mare replied with a pert, little smirk.

"But you're very pretty, too!" Fluttershy added immediately. "I wan't implying that you weren't--

"It was a joke." The mares' laughter was high and bell-like. "You are quite the beauty yourself. You are the one they call queen, yes?"

"That's correct," Fluttershy smiled amiably. "Please come to me if you need anything, okay?"

"You are too sweet. I am looking forward to getting to know you," said the bard. "I am called Violet Viola." She then cast her gaze down upon Ethey. "And you, little one... You are not so little, are you? Your eyes, they tell me you have much experience. They look older than the rest of you."

Ethey screwed up her face in bemusement. "How can you know that?"

"I too am more than meets the eye, little one," Replied Violet. "If either of you ever want your fortunes told, come to me. The first one will be free, I promise."

"I'll be sure to do that," Ethey said dismissively. "Uhm, I don't want to be rude, but..."

"Speak as you will," encouraged Violet as she busied herself with the adjustment of a string on her violin.

"Well," began Ethey, "You're a slave, aren't you?"

"Ethey!" The queen admonished.

"It is quite alright," allowed Violet. "I believe what you mean to say is was. And yes, I was a slave."

"Was," the adviser corrected herself. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Again, yes, I was." The bard plucked at the threading of her instrument. The corners of her lips turned up in a satisfied grin, as if she was pleased with the string's report. "Why do you ask?"

"Again, I'm risking the chance of sounding rude, but, you don't look like the others. You're pretty... Too pretty. Not to mention well fed. The others are all gaunt and calloused and haggard-looking... And your dress?" the adviser added, referring to the mare's silky skirt and formfitting bodice. "It's really nice. Looks expensive. If slaves wore any clothing at all, I'd assume they'd be rags."

"You're quite observant, little one." The mare pretended to study her violin, but it was obvious the adviser's inquiry had evoked an unpleasant thought. "Once upon a time, I was a traveling gypsy. I played my violin and I read fortunes for a living. One day my caravan was sacked when we got turned around in a blizzard, after we had left the Crystal Empire. That was the day my family was slaughtered before my eyes, and I was taken to be sold. My husband purchased me from a slave auction shortly after."

"Your husband?" Ethey and Fluttershy echoed in unison. The queen did not want to pry into the mare's personal affairs, but now she couldn't help but be curious.

"My husband," Violet confirmed. "My husband purchased me to make me his wife, but do not think that means he gave me my freedom. He might have been my husband, but he was still my master. He was not gentle, nor was he kind. He made me feel more like his personal whore more than anything else."

"Well," Ethey said, "at least you can look back on that situation and be glad the king gave him what he deserved."

"The king did not kill my husband." The bard turned her head slightly, and with a proud, impish smile she said, "It was I who had that privilege."

The queen and the adviser exchanged a look.

"It was only a few days ago, in fact," Violet continued, strumming on her violin. "My husband was not a kind stallion, to say the least. It took two years, but I finally worked up the courage to tell my horrible husband how I truly felt about him. I told him that he was a bastard, and that I wished for him to die. He flew into a rage and struck me. That was when a realization came over me: I could live out the rest of my life as my husband and master's complacent little whore, or I could die with some dignity. I chose the latter."

"And then what did you do?" Fluttershy heard herself ask.

"I grabbed the nearest thing I could get my hooves on." The mare's smile was almost seductive as she lifted her skirt to better reveal the dagger sheathed at her garter. "I sliced him. I sliced him in a place where no stallion would like to be sliced. As I watched him bleed out, I knew I would be punished, but I did not care. I relished every second of watching the life fade from his eyes. He used the last breath he had on this earth to call me an ungrateful slut. 'Ungrateful for what?' I should have asked. Ungrateful for all the times he forced himself on me? For all the beatings and countless public humiliations?

"After that, it was to the starving stables for me. I was spending my third day in there when your husband came along and smashed open the doors."

"The starving stables?" Fluttershy echoed curiously.

Violet gestured toward the group of ponies Sombra had been transporting in the wagon. One of them was so skinny the area around their midsection was practically infused with his spine. He had but a few teeth left in his mouth, his eyes were sunken into his skull, and the flesh between his ribs were like concave trenches. They drank only water, and their digestive systems were so weakened from disuse all they could stomach was onion broth. Though, with the weak and weary smiles on their faces, one would think they were eating just as well as anyone else in the hall that night.

"It is the ultimate punishment," commented Violet. "The masters have all manner of execution methods for slaves to deter them from rebelling or revolting: crucifixion, beheading, hanging, but for those who really piss them off..." The bard, in a very unladylike fashion, turned her head and spat on the ground. Then, in a voice that was both a purr and a growl she said, "I hope the Cerberus is using them for a chew toy right now. I wish for them to come back to life just to watch your husband kill them all over again."

The mare then drew her bow and continued to play her violin. "The song you have been hearing me play, it is a work in progress. It is called 'The winds of change.' I wish to play it for your wonderful husband when it is finished, for he has become my muse to write music once again."

"I'm sure he would love that," Fluttershy said with a graceful dip of her head. "I'm sorry me and my friend here made you recall so many bad memories."

"Not at all, my love," Replied the bard. "I hold no secrets from the Queen and King who were so kind as to rescue me."

"Not to bombard you with more questions," Fluttershy said, "but you said something about being in those - what did you call them - Starving stables - for a few days. Have you eaten anything since you got here?"

"Oh yes, my belly is quite full," Violet answered happily. "Your husband has done such a great thing. Part of me wonders if this is all merely a delusion brought on from the starvation."

"I can assure you, this all very real," Ethey reported.

"This is good to know," Violet giggled. "Give my love to your husband, won't you?"

"I will," promised the queen. "Again, just let me know if you need anything. It was very nice meeting you."

"You as well, my love." And the bard continued to play, closing her eyes as she smiled blissfully. "Goodbye for now," she sang in that beautiful voice of hers.

Fluttershy and her adviser continued with their rounds to make sure every freed slave was content and comfortable. She eyed her husband a few times walking around here and there, lugging materials around for the new occupants' accommodations. There were a few rooms left in the servants' quarters for some of them, but the rest would have to camp in the mansion's main lobby until extensions to the house could be made.

Sombra could be heard speaking off and on with his construction crew of building upon the manse until it could eventually be classified as a castle. The task, Fluttershy knew, would take time, materials, and willing laborers. They would need to procure more resources, but all of that would come in due time, once Sombra's campaign to free the North kicked into full gear; an ambition for which would require an army.

Clash moved from table to table, winning over any who he could with a passionate speech about doing their part to serve their new king's cause. Many with a desire for retribution and an eagerness to serve burning in their eyes agreed to the terms of enlistment. There were many who approached him as well, once they realized who Clash was and what it was he was doing. 'A chance to kill slavers?' was how one of the shorter conversations went. 'Where do I sign up?'

Before the night was over, Clash would have an entourage of thirty starry eyed, able-bodied stallions and mares in his company. He brought them before Sombra so they could bow to him and swear unyielding fealty. They were to reconvene with their Master-At-Arms in the garden at zero five hundred hours to begin their regiment under his tutelage.

Six canvas tents were erected in the courtyard to serve as a temporary barracks. It would be cold, and it would be cramped, but it was no worse than what the former slaves were used to, and Clash had explicitly warned them before they bent their knees to the king that a soldier's life, though honorable and enriching, was not meant to be lavish or comfortable.

The liberated slaves who opted out of a life of hard military service in pursuit of other occupations made available to them would camp out in a large pavilion that Sombra erected in the main lobby. It may have lacked for the comforts of what Fluttershy would consider home, but it was warm and spacious inside, and it was preferable to being locked in a cold stall with nothing but a thin burlap blanket and a flat pile of straw to sleep on, to which the slaves had been accustomed, The Queen had learned.

The night drew on, and she had personally introduced herself to almost every new face in the manse. The exhausted Ethey eventually relieved herself of her company to grab a plate of food, but not before advising Fluttershy to get some rest, as her day had been a strenuous one.

The Queen was exhausted, but she had one last order of business to attend to before she would allow herself to retire. She had found the griffon mother and her child eating in the company of a few others who had been rescued that day. "How's the little guy doing?"

"He's doing well," replied the griffon. "I don't think I got the chance to introduce myself, by the way. I'm Zoey. And this is--

"Zuzu," The Queen finished for her. She watched as the young griffon inhaled a candy coated apple. It only took about four bites before he started on the core. "Can he speak? I haven't been able to get him to say a word since I met him this morning."

Zoey began to scratch at her son's back with a talon. The cub responded by smiling pleasurably and craning his neck. "He used to," she replied sadly. "He actually used to be quite the little talker before... Before the bandits..."

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to," Fluttershy said. "I was just curious, is all."

"You have been taking care of my baby. You took him in and you fed him, and then your husband rescued me so that we could be reunited. It's only right that you know," Zoey insisted.

The surrounding stallions and mares fell quite and exchanged concerned glances. They must have known the story already.

"Zuzu," the mother began, a far away expression in her eyes, "he was what the slavers called a 'branded.' The branded were Tauren's personal soldiers. They were selected at a young age to be raised into mindless killing machines. Slave soldiers, if you will. Utterly fearless, ferocious berserkers who will not say no to any task given to them, no matter how cruel or dangerous.

"They're raised like beasts," put in a stallion who was sitting across the table. "And beasts they eventually become. When your husband was attacking the master's keep, everyone retreated. The masters, the slaves - but not the branded. They just charged toward him furiously with those horrible, ululating war cries of theirs. That is what they were turning Zuzu into."

"The branded?" Fluttershy inspected that circular burn mark on the boy's haunch, where the fur refused to grow back. So, that's what that mark means.

"The initiation ritual," Zoey continued, shuttering. "Two children of the same age are thrown into an arena. They are each given a dagger, and are told to kill the other. If they refuse to fight, they are both killed. The winner is made into a branded. And the loser." The mother closed her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek. "The mother buries the loser."

Fluttershy's heart felt heavy when the dark realization as to where the child's many, many scars must have come from had dawned upon her. She did all she could to block out the horrible vision of two terrified children slicing each other to ribbons before a roaring mob of heartless spectators.

"My little boy," Zoey croaked. "He fought. The other boy fought. They didn't want to do it, but they were forced to. It was one of them, or both of them. He hasn't spoken a word since that day."

"The mother of the boy who lost, where is she?" Fluttershy, overwhelmed with a desire to do what she could to help, began to look around the feasting hall frantically. She could have sworn she had spoken to just about everyone in the hall. "Is she here?"

"She took her own life shorty after," a mare who had been listening in on their conversation informed her. "The grave she was forced to dig for her own son was hers as well. She left a note behind requesting that she be buried with him."

The queen felt a lump rising up in the back of her throat. Her vision became watery and distorted. "I... I wish I could have done something."

"There was nothing you could have done, sweetie," the mother insisted.

Zuzu gave Fluttershy that same look he did when they were at the funeral. He smiled, then pointed to his beak.

"I haven't seen him smile since that day," Zoey commented. "Perhaps you've done more than you think you have."

"What have I done?" Fluttershy wondered aloud. It was a question meant for herself, but the mother decided to answer anyway.

"You saved my boy's life," replied Zoey matter-of-factly. "Your husband told me about the spat between you two this morning. Shortly after he rescued us, as he was leading us away from the burning ruins that was once our masters' keep. I was in a panic. I told the king that I couldn't leave until my Zuzu had returned to me."

Fluttershy beheld her in bewilderment. "He told you about that?"

"I was horrified at first," admitted the griffon. "He had told me that he tried to kill my little boy, because he thought he was a bandit. Again, I was horrified, but then he informed me that his wife had kept him from doing so. It filled me with joy to know that Tauren was dead, what's more, that my Zuzu was safe. 'What a wonderful mare this wife must be,' I thought." The griffon managed to smile, and she added, "And you know what? I was right. You call yourself a queen, and yet, you deign to speak to us as equals. You saved my baby. Can you honestly look back on your actions and claim that you've done nothing?"

Fluttershy, feeling a warmth in her heart, allowed herself a smile. She nodded to Zoey and thanked her.

Zoey hugged her son. Her son hugged her back. "If there's ever anything we can do for you."

"Not another word of that," Fluttershy stopped her. "I've been hearing that all night. It is I who is at your] service.

The former slaves sitting at the table smiled approvingly to one another. One of them lifted their mug to her and said, "Thank you, my queen." The others did the same, nodding, bowing, lowering their heads, lifting their mugs.

As The Queen made her way to the exit of the hall, every head she past by, old and new, bowed to her and thanked her. Violet Viola played a quick note on her violin before she extended her bow diagonally and inclined her head as well. The emaciated, deformed and downtrodden smiled gratefully, and words of thanks were murmured all around. Colts and fillies ceased in their playing to bend their knees to her and regard her with sweet, grateful smiles. The children obviously had no idea what the gesture meant, but the adults were doing it, so it seemed like the right thing to do. Fluttershy did not want anyone to bend the knee to her, but their gratitude made her feel warm inside.

She placed her hoof upon the large door at the end of the hall. A thought came to her just then. One last parting word of hope. She turned around and noticed that the eyes were still on her. Even her hard working king, who was assisting in the final repairs of the hall's wall watched her closely.

"Everyone," she said. "I would like you all to know something. I have said it before, and I will say it again: it is not you who are in the service of my husband and I." She smiled warmly at her king, who beckoned her to proceed with a curt nod. "It is we who are in service to you. There are hard days behind you, and there will most likely be hard days ahead of us, but know this: When the historians write about the liberation of the North, they will say that it began today."

The queen smiled and lowered her head thankfully in response to the thunderous applause her words had evoked. She spared her husband one last glance. He looked impressed. Enthralled, even.

And so, Fluttershy left those who had once been slaves in the hall to fill their bellies and continue with their celebration.

The Queen's ears twitched when they honed in on the sound of the door hinges creaking, but she pretended not to hear it. She sipped at her wine and continued to stare thoughtfully into the fire when she heard the door close.

The king lowered his head and planted a light kiss on the tip of her nose to get her attention. "You did not have to wait for me," he said knowingly. "I know how exhausting this day must have been for you."

Fluttershy craned her neck and reached up to return the kiss. "Though, part of you was hoping I would still be awake," she finished his thought for him.

"You are astute," Sombra observed.

She could feel him standing over her, his gaze into the fire joining with hers. "A little bird has informed me of the diligence you've exhibited in my stead today."

"A little bird named Ethereal Moon?" Fluttershy inferred with a witting smile.

"Again, your powers of deduction are impressive."

"No, they aren't." Fluttershy turned to face him. "I just know you, is all."

The King placed his hooves affectionately upon his brides' shoulders. "You must also know that that boy would have been dead it weren't for you, and that I would have found myself explaining to that child's mother why her son was no longer among the living."

"My king, you don't have to apologize."

"I do," he insisted. "A king must admit to his mistakes, or surely he will make the same ones time and time again. It is frustrating that I can not accurately express how foolish I feel."

Fluttershy was surprised by the sincerity in her king's eyes, by his willingness to admit that he was wrong. "But you've done a great thing today," she reminded him.

"The slaves," Sombra said ponderously. "That too can be attributed to you."

Fluttershy was bemused by the declaration. "My king, you've done a great thing today. Don't take the deed you have done away from yourself."

"It was not in my original plan to bring those slaves back with me," admitted The King.

"What do you mean?"

"I was only there to exact a retaliatory attack. When the deed had been done, my intentions were to break the chains of the slaves and leave them to fend for themselves, as I had done many times in the past. I realized, however, in doing so I would have killed them. They would have been freed only to be captured by another raiding party, or they would have perished from starvation or the elements. The brash among them would have banded together to become marauders themselves in their desperation for survival. I've seen it happen many times.

"I freed them, and I beheld their terrified eyes. They all seemed to say one thing: 'What happens now?' I thought, and, for the first time in my life, I felt pity. I did not know what to do at first. I didn't know how to react to such an emotion. My first instinct was to kill them all quickly and painlessly so they would not have to suffer long in this world."

Sombra's thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he eyed a bottle on the mantle of the fireplace. "What kind of wine is that?"

"It's a Sangria," replied Fluttershy, eager to hear the rest of the tale. "It's not a vintage, but its still good."

He sighed irritably. "You and your sweet wines."

"It's better than the sour mashed vinegar you drink," Fluttershy said defensively.

Sombra gave her a look. Fluttershy retaliated with one of her own.

Then, they both smiled at each other. "I'll have a glass, if you please," the king conceded.

Fluttershy filled a glass for her king, and topped off her own.

With a sip and a bout of silence, Sombra was ready to resume his story. "It wasn't until I thought of you when I realized how heartless I was being. I began to wonder what it was you would have had me done, instead of simply making such a decision for myself. I doubted that you would have approved of my first solution, logical as it was."

"And you were right," interjected Fluttershy.

"But I couldn't just leave them there. I couldn't let them suffer, or become the very monsters that had once enslaved them. Killing them would have been preferable to that. I thought and I pondered upon what I should do with them, until I realized I could use them to help cart all the plunder. I would have more skilled laborers and soldiers for my cause. I realized that I had nothing to lose and everything to gain from taking them with me, and so that is what I did."

Fluttershy smiled as she sipped at her wine. "You're trying to disguise your intentions."

Sombra faced the fire with his cup and said, "Pray, what do you mean?"

"You're trying to make it sound like you did what you did simply because you had something to gain from it," Fluttershy said with all the assurance in the world in her voice. "My king, you have a heart. And its as you've said, you felt pity for them. You brought them back here because it was the right thing to do. End of story."

Sombra sipped from his cup. Fluttershy knew she was right at that point. He was stalling for time. No doubt he was formulating some sort of quip.

"Perhaps I have given your skills of deduction too much praise," Sombra finally said, the corner of his mouth upturning in a sardonic smirk.

And there it is, thought The Queen.

Sombra cast a critical look down upon her from the side of his face. "You're not half as wise as you think you are."

Fluttershy was taken aback by that. A quip was one thing, but that was a bit harsh. Before she could rebuke the harry, her husband spoke again.

"You are even more so. You are wise, my love. And you are kind as well." He studied the fire and added, "I would have killed that boy if you hadn't stopped me. His face would have joined the many others I see in my nightmares each night. You possess wisdom that is well beyond one of your years, and it is about time I have taken heed to it."

Fluttershy stood frozen with the rim of her glass on her bottom lip. It sounded like he was getting at something - but what?

"My dearest queen," declared Sombra, "if you so desire to see your friends again, I shall make it happen. If you trust them, then so shall I."

Fluttershy's glass thudded against the floor, the padded rushes drinking eagerly its contents into a blot of sanguine.

"You spilled your wine."

"Do you mean it?" Fluttershy said, not giving two flying bucks about the wine.

"The rush," the king complained.

"Do you really mean it? They can come here? I can see them? You'll be here too, right - so I can introduce you to them?"

"Yes," Sombra said impatiently. "Now fetch something to clean that up with before it--

Fluttershy pressed her lips against her king's harder than she ever had before, her wings fluttering ecstatically as she held him and pushed him back.

Caught completely off guard and thrown off balance, Sombra had to step back to keep his footing, until he found himself tumbling backwards onto the bed.

"Stains," he managed to finish as he gazed up at her in astoundment, once his enthusiastic bride finally broke her lips away from his.

"Thank you," Fluttershy said. "You really do have a heart. My sweet, sweet king!"

Her king said nothing. He was looking up at her in way he never had before. Red lines on his muzzle were beginning to form.

"Sorry, I got a little carried away," The Queen blushed. "Sorry about the wine, too. I'll go find a damp rag or something to--

The King took her, pulled her down, and then he kissed her. And he whispered in her ear, "The wine can wait."

A Declaration of Intent

"I knew I sensed something," Said Twilight Sparkle as a structure began to come into sight.

Starlight Glimmer squinted her eyes to get a better view, but the stinging sensation of the frigid wind assailing her combined with the stark white of the landscape made it difficult for her to see anything. Like Twilight, she could detect the remnants of powerful magic emanating from the area, but the harsh, inhospitable elements of the peninsula made it difficult for her other senses.

The howling wind constantly roaring in her ears rendered comprehension of articulation difficult. All she could seem to smell was the cold. She had wrapped her scarf around her face, as it was all she could do to keep the walls of her nostrils from freezing over. The cold had seeped in through her hooves and ran up the bones of her legs, making them numb to any kind of sensation. She found herself constantly looking down at them, as if to reassure herself that she still had them.

Moon Dancer was better prepared for the elements than her. She wore a cloak, just as the others did, only hers was lined with fur and thick padding. A heavy woollen scarf and dark tented goggles obscured her features.

After some experimenting, she was able to figure out a way to augment a cloud walking spell in order make it easier for her and the others to traverse through the treacherous snows of the terrain. She had claimed that the process was elementary when one considered that snow and clouds were practically of the same makeup, the defining variation being that snow contained a higher condensity of H20.

Starlight Glimmer cursed herself under her breath when she had not thought of that first.

Moon Dancer was smart. Insanely smart. Too smart for her own good, Starlight thought. It made her cocky. Not insufferably so, but one could surmise from engaging in only a brief dialogue with the girl that she was in possession of a contemptible smugness.

Sunset Shimmer was definitely the more athletic of the four. While the others were panting and complaining about the cold, she effortlessly strode on with brisk abandon. It was as if the long, arduous trek through the thick snow was no different than a leisure stroll through Canterlot Park. She too wore a cloak, but the hood was drawn down. She had claimed that it was so her peripheral vision wouldn't he hindered.

Moon Dancer sniggered that her red hair would give away their position from miles away.

Sunset Shimmer, in order to further illustrate her intentions, or simply to not be outbitched by Moon Dancer, combated the sally by saying, 'True, but at least if danger approaches us from the side, I'll be able to see it coming. Nice goggles, by the way. No solar eclipse will be getting the drop on you.'

Moon Dancer was either unable to formulate a quip, or she simply didn't care to reply.

As amusing as the jest was, Starlight was beginning to wish she had brought some protective eye wear of her own. The sensory overload of the endlessly white frozen wasteland was blinding. And the jagged winds made her eyes smart. It made it almost impossible to see what Twilight was pointing at. But she could sense it.

Like hoof prints at a crime scene, unicorns and other creatures of magic possessed a defining signature that was unique to only them, an arcane residual that lingered for hours, even days after the initial discharge of power. The more power that was employed, the stronger the sensation of the signature was.

When Starlight had arrived at the Crystal Empire, the sensation left behind by the evil wizard Sombra was everywhere. The only word she could think of to describe it was 'black'. It was the blackest thing she ever felt. It was cold, and it was terrifying. Like the lingerings of a malicious poltergeist, it oppressed the emotions of those who could sense it and left behind naught but despair.

As the party approached the structure, Starlight was beginning to make out its features. To her, it looked like it had once been a stronghold. Parts of it were blackened, while other sections were crumbling and falling over. What may have at one time been a sturdy door used as an entrance to the structure had been smashed and blown into splinters, as if it had been peppered by cannon balls.

The four unicorns exchanged cautionary looks before entering, and when they did, they soon found themselves wishing they hadn't.

A cluster of heads mounted on pikes accompanied one section of the ruined stronghold, their faces contorted in lifeless expressions of pure, stark terror. Rows upon rows of bodies swung and swayed at the ends of hempen ropes from the ramparts of the upper wall, occasionally colliding with one another like a set of fleshy, grotesque wind chimes. Eviscerated cadavers laid strew about over blotches of pink and red snow.

Moon Dancer lifted her goggles to reveal her wide, horrified eyes. "Dear Celestia..."

Starlight Glimmer could feel her gorge rising. After several vain attempts to keep it down she finally bent down and wretched.

Twilight Sparkle approached what looked like a statue of a terrified stallion holding his hooves out in a pleading manner. But when she touched it, it scattered to the wind in a cloud of ash.

"He was here recently," Sunset Shimmer stammered, Sombra's lingering oppression physically distressing her. She wrapped her forelegs around herself and tremored under its power. "I've never felt anything like this before. It feels- It feels like he's standing right behind me."

Twilight Sparkle, looking down and closing her eyes, she drew her hood back around her neck. "How could he? Who could be this cruel? This bastard doesn't deserve to live."

Starlight Glimmer attempted to spit the remaining taste of her stomach contents out, but it was to no avail. All she could do was wipe her mouth and hope the sour flavor wouldn't linger long. "Why would he do this?" she said, catching her breath.

"To send a message," replied Moon Dancer, logically. "Look at the way some of the bodies are displayed." She gestured to the corpses hanging from the upper walkway that protruded from the wall. "These bodies were meant to be found, meant to be seen, and their killer's intention was to sew terror and intimidation into whoever comes across them."

Well, it worked, Starlight thought. She then looked to Twilight Sparkle and asked. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to do what we set out to do," Twilight said.

"If we fail--

"We won't fail!" Twilight Sparkle cut her off, slashing her hoof through the air. "Failure isn't an option. I won't allow it. That monster still has Fluttershy, and who knows what other atrocities he'll commit if left unchecked. Make no mistake, ladies: This is not just a rescue mission."

"Well, then, what else is it?" asked Sunset Shimmer.

Twilight threw her hood over her head, and she made her intentions clear. "This," she said, narrowing her eyes with intent, "is an assassination."

Love and Cake

Fluttershy cracked her eyes as the rays of Eastlight warmed her cheeks. She let out a well-rested sigh as she brushed the sinewy ripples of her husbands arms, which were loosely tangled about her. She could feel him stirring behind her, felt a gentle kiss on the back of her head.

"Good morning," he said sleepily, pulling her body against his.

Welcoming the embrace, Fluttershy nuzzled herself against him. His touch, she noticed, was growing more tender by the day. However, there was still an edge of intensity in his displays of affection: A glow of his eyes, a hint of insistence in his touch, an almost irresistible thrum of desire in his voice. The Queen was especially fond of the latter. That voice of his was like sanguine velvet. It was tainted honey, sweet yet dark, oozing with temptation.

And he's all mine, thought The Queen. She caressed her husband under the blankets with her flanks. 'Good morning.' That was all he had said to her, and that was all she needed to hear to put her in the mood for some morning delight. Fluttershy had awakened in a good mood. Possibly the best mood of her life. But she knew her husband could make it even better. It didn't take long for that sleepy yet attentive king of hers to take the hint.

Fluttershy had to bury her face in the pillows to stifle the cadences of her pleasure. That morning, her husband had taken her in every conceivable way a stallion could take a mare. He had done things to her that made her melt back into her pillow, things that had her clutching at the sheets, things that overwhelmed her as her consistent sensations barraged her.

Her hind legs were numb when she climbed the dais to her seat. Pink faced and smiling, she fell back into her chair, and it was there she relaxed back into its plush cushioning while awaiting her breakfast.

"Someone's in a good mood this morning," Ethey observed.

"I'm having a good morning so far," The Queen sighed in her reverie.

Ethey tittered. "I could kinda figure, from the way you were wobbling up those steps."

Fluttershy blushed slightly, but she wasn't ashamed. It was no secret as to what a husband and wife got up to in the privacy of their own bedroom. Or Bedchamber. Whatever her husband of a thousand plus years was wont to call it.

Nevermore approached them, her bat wings fluttering in synchronized rhythm with that habitually goofy smile of hers plastered across her face. "Oi hoi!" she cheered.

Fluttershy was about to return the greeting, but her husband spoke before she could get the words out. "Where is breakfast?" he demanded.

"Don't be rude," Fluttershy hissed under her breath.

Sombra snorted in response to her admonition. Hunger stood at or near the top of the long list of things that exacerbated the austere stallion's temperament - along with disrespect, nonalcoholic beverages, insolent looks, flatulence, and the wind shifting directions.

"Yeah, sorry about the wait," Nevermore offered. "Me as well as the rest of the kitchen staff have actually been up all night preparing a special breakfast for everyone. Its my greatest piece of culinary art yet. I figured I'd whip up something nice in honor of our new guests." She swept her hoof out toward those which she had mentioned down below, as if the King couldn't see them already.

Sombra's eyes gleamed with intrigue, his impatience all but forgotten. "Special, you say?"

"Yepyep!" Nevermore replied with a vigorous nod. "It's a cake." Then, for no obvious reason, she threw her hoof up in the air and went, "Wooo!"

Fluttershy was astounded by the energy Nevermore could exude in the morning, especially after staying awake all night.

"Cake for breakfast?" Sombra said, one part amused and two parts inquisitive.

Fluttershy and Ethey enjoyed watching the two interact. The King, impatient and no nonsense as he was, had evidently taken a liking to the loony bat girl. The Queen couldn't lie, she liked her too. Her neurotic mannerisms and sporadic tendencies reminded her of a certain pink friend back in Ponyville.

"It's a work of art!" Nevermore promised. "You'll have to taste it to believe it." She then winked, as if she was hinting at something of a lascivious nature. "You'll have to see it to believe it."

"Very well, then. Where is it?"

"I'll go roll it out right now. I just wanted to let you guys know what the wait was all about." And with a bow and a twirl the frantic bat mare was off to retrieve the sweet confection she and her staff had concocted.

Ethey, Sombra, and Fluttershy were engaging in a conversation over the boarding and the assigned occupations of the new residence when a cart pulled by the cooking staff was rolled out before the threshold of the steps down below. Nevermore was using a megaphone she had acquired from Celestia-knows-where to announce its arrival. Manse staff and former slaves all gawked at the cake laid across the surface of the cart.

Fluttershy did a double take before her mind could fully register what it was she was looking at.

It was a cake — that had been artfully yet explicitly detailed in the sculpted depiction of a mare and a stallion intertwined in the throes of passion.

Red-faced, The Queen raised an abashed hoof to her mouth. "Oh, my."

Mothers and fathers in attendance looked on disapprovingly as they covered their kids' eyes.

Ethey face-hoofed.

Clash could be heard somewhere in the hall guffawing.

A sinister smirk tugged at the corner of Sombra's lips. "My favorite flavor," he mused.

Blustering, Ethey sprang from her seat. The little skull in her ribbon jingled. Her glasses slid down her muzzle. "Nevermore, you dingbat!"

"What!" The cook started, her expression the portrait of obliviousness. "What did I do?"

"There're children here!"

Nevermore blinked stupidly. "They'll get a piece too."

Again, Ethey face-hoofed. "Take that eyesore back to the kitchen and cut it up in to pieces!"

"But I haven't even taken a picture of it yet!" Nevermore whined.

Sombra, amongst the bickering, laid back in his seat and he chuckled a deep, throaty chuckle.

Fluttershy forgot all about the cake as her disbelieving gaze shifted to her husband. Sombra was laughing. He was actually laughing; not in a condescending or malicious manner, but in a genuine display of delight and amusement. Even Ethey was nonplussed by the sight.

Nevermore frowned indignantly after a moment of gauging the crowds reaction to her 'master piece'. "Fine!" she grumbled unintelligibly as she and her staff painstakingly wheeled the massive cake back to the kitchen.

They returned shortly after. The cake had been sliced into numerous sections and the pieces were reorganized into a more nonrepresentational abstract of cubes and slivers.

Ethey pondered over the piece that was served to her, which possessed a suspicious likeness of what was most likely the stallion's proficiently sculpted rump. Nevermore was in possession of her own brand of humor, it had seemed.

Ethey forked a piece into her mouth. "It's good," she said, as if oblivious to Nevermore's indiscretion.

"We can trade pieces, if you want," Fluttershy offered. Her piece was cut from an undefinable origin. In truth, she didn't want to know the area from which her slice had been carved; it was still good cake, despite the fact that it was presented in such an obscene manner.

"Nah, its fine," Ethey declined. Then she sighed, "It's probably the closest thing to a piece of ass I'll ever get."

Sombra chuckled again.

A kingdom was an autocracy. There was no getting around that. Kings and Queens were not politicians. There were no laws or amendments that held them to any specific standard. When Sombra had imparted this information unto Fluttershy, she was quick to remind him that not even a king or queen was immune to the repercussions of their actions.

"You must rule with an iron hoof," he insisted, as they strolled leisurely along the cobblestone path that bisected the garden.

Fluttershy liked the interaction. The way Sombra had taken time to go on a walk with her like two lovers on a canter through the park almost made her feel normal for the first time in forever.

"You can only achieve so much through being kind," Sombra said. "Your enemies are not always those who openly rally against you waving blades and banners. There are parasites who will seek to take advantage of your soft heart. They'll exploit you until there's nothing left to take."

Fluttershy pondered that. "Iron is too stiff, my king," she replied. "Iron might not bend, but it will break. You should reconsider your notion, lest you repeat your past mistakes."

"I..." Sombra stammered. He was too proud to admit that she had a point. "A steel hoof, perhaps. Steel is strong, but it can yield, given the right circumstances."

Fluttershy tried not to giggle at the absurdity of the notion, of her husband's attempt to compare their rule to some sort of metaphorical alloy. "I think I'd rather be a mongoose."

"Mongoose," Sombra pondered. "Curious creatures, they."

The Queen illuminated her king to her analogy of the snake, the mouse, and the mongoose. Sombra could compare the way in which he intended to rule to various types of metal, but Fluttershy preferred to use animals.

"I like it," The King conceded. "Though a rodent is hardly fearsome, especially to its natural predators."

"Mongooses aren't rodents, silly," Fluttershy corrected him in the way a teacher might correct a young student. The Queen might not have known much in the ways of a governing hierarchy, but she did know a thing or two about animals. She recognized her opportunity to impart knowledge and shine in the eyes of her king, and she seized it. "That's actually a popular misconception, but they are members of the Herpestidae family, which relates them more to meerkats than anything else. They're not rodents, but their diets consist of rodents, as well as carrion, eggs, insects, and, as I've previously mentioned, snakes."

Sombra's expression grew blank as he politely and patiently allowed her to finish her lecture. The King was visually uninterested, but he remained dutifully attentive. "I... Yes, I see," he offered obligatorily when she finished. "Fascinating."

They stopped when they had come upon a lone tree near the iron gate. The fallen snow gleamed in the midday sunlight. There was no wind. It was unusually calm. Even the temperature was bearable. Fluttershy spied a family of snow rabbits across the courtyard. "What's your favorite animal, my king?" she wondered, watching the rabbits frolic about. He was quick to reply, much to her surprise.

"Dogs."

"Dogs?" Fluttershy echoed in an attempt to extract an explanation. She wasn't expecting such a simple answer.

"Loyal beasts. Strong. Intelligent. Noble."

Fluttershy rested her head against his arm. "Affectionate?"

The King hummed an affirmation. Then, out of the blue: "I love you."

A gentle gust liberated a strand of hair from Fluttershy's crown as she digested the words. Her heart fluttered. Sombra faced her, brushed the strand of hair out of her muzzle. They were just three simple words, but they meant everything to her. Bereft of speech, her eyes became watery.

Sombra intercepted a tear rolling down her cheek. "Why do you cry?"

"I'm not crying," Fluttershy fibbed, wiping her eyes. His declaration was just so unexpected. "I-I love you too," she heard herself say.

Her reaction evoked a flicker in the King's eyes. He disguised his feelings well behind the mask of an amused smile, but he wasn't fooling her. "Truly?" he said, as if he expected that the queen's response had come from obligation rather than from her heart.

Fluttershy smiled up at him. Her voice cracked as she laughed, "Of course I do, you silly king!"

The King's expression illuminated in the closest thing he could muster to resemble joy. It was the type of smile one might manage with facial muscles honed from a lifetime of scowls and sneers.

And for that brief moment the world was perfect.

Fluttershy's first instinct was to throw herself into his arms, but a strange, amber-tented veil began to materialize about her. More curious than startled, she began to look around at the transparent golden bubble that had somehow formed around her. "What is this?"

The King's eyes narrowed suspiciously as he touched it. The bubble's surface crackled with a harsh, electric report as it repelled his contact. He drew his hoof back, sneered at it in alarm. He was saying something to her, but Fluttershy couldn't hear him. The only sound that her ears could detect was the warbling of the force field that now encompassed her. The bubble had seemingly negated the possibility of physical and audible contact with anything outside of it.

Alarm began to grip the queen. She made an effort to reach out to her husband, but was unable to breach the shield's surface. She knocked on it with her hoof, but her efforts were to no avail. She struck it harder and harder until her attempts devolved into frantic scraping at the unyielding surface. "What is this!" she cried. "What's happening?"

Sombra's horn flickered. He shot some sort of projectile at the bubble, but it feebly fizzled out upon contact. He said something, most likely a curse.

"Help me!" Fluttershy pleaded. She couldn't hear what her husband was shouting, but she could draw a guess from the words his mouth formed: 'Who's doing this?' and 'Show yourself!' followed by a long string of threats and oaths toward an unseen assailant.

Suddenly, across the garden, light began to bend and refract around a figure hidden under a thick cloak. With her illusion of invisibility cast aside she pulled her hood back.

"Twilight!" Fluttershy gasped. She was almost happy for that moment.

Sombra whipped around. His glare fixed hotly upon her. He scowled at her viciously. 'You!' he seemed to be saying.

'Me!' Twilight Sparkle agreed, the tip of her horn flickering.

Fluttershy's heart sank as she began to grasp the situation. They were going to kill each other! "No!" She scraped desperately at the bubble's surface. It began to levitate, far beyond Sombra's reach. "No, no, no, no, no! This can't be happening! Twilight! Don't! Please, wait!"

Sombra watched helplessly as the bubble carried his bride away. He lifted a hoof in a vain attempt to make a grab for her, as if he'd forgotten the combatant across the way from him. He yelled something, but Fluttershy couldn't hear him. He was suddenly assaulted by a conical stream of lavender light.

Twilight Sparkle's expression was almost cocky. Fluttershy could just barely manage to read her lips. Something along the lines of 'Don't let your guard down.'

The smoke cleared, and Fluttershy's heart sank as she beheld her husband. Any semblance of sanity he had had disappeared along with his ability to negotiate. He staggered to his hooves as smoke wafted from his singed body. His lips curled back to reveal his fangs. His irises were concealed behind blazing flames of jade, and underneath them, purple wisps of light began to form.

Blood In The Snow

Sombra's reaction was predictable if nothing else. Every movement he made was accurately predicted in Twilight's plan. The hulking tower of rage that was The King may have had size and strength on his side, but Twilight had the brains. It started with The King charging wildly, which Twilight had anticipated. Seek to enrage the enemy and he will make a mistake.

"Starlight, now!"

Starlight Glimmer cast aside her invisibility, and utilizing a spell she had learned from a tome she had acquired from Suburst's library, the earth opened beneath The King, and black shackles constructed in the bowels of Tartarus itself ensnared him by his wrists.

Sombra's momentum sent him flipping to the ground when he arrived at the end of their length. He cursed, yanked at them, struck them with spells, but his struggle was in vain.

Starlight strained under the force of maintaining the spell. She wouldn't be able to keep it up for long. "Give up," she advised. "Those binds are a construct of forces not of this world. They cannot be broken. You're a damned soul, Sombra. Accept your fate!"

Sombra continued to struggle against his unbreakable restraints, steel forged and tempered by the fires of Tartarus itself.

"Moondancer!" Twilight Sparkle cried.

Moondancer cast aside her invisibility. Her horn glowed and a dome of iridescent light like an overturned bowl formed over The King. "Containment achieved," she announced. "Hit him with everything you got, girls!" The time/space field was constructed in a way that allowed entry, but exiting was impossible. It was perfect for containing a blast of catastrophic magnitude.

Twilight shouted, "Sunset Shimmer, to me!"

Sunset appeared. She and Twilight levitated above Sombra. Every movement they made was pre-planned and practiced until their attack was a choreography of perfect synchronization.

Sombra must have recognized the futility of his struggle. He watched them carefully, methodically.

"Things could have been different," Twilight Sparkle chided. "You grew up in the lap of luxury, with every privilege and opportunity available to you, yet you chose to walk the path of evil. I wish I could understand the way a twisted mind like yours thinks, but sadly, I cannot."

Sombra sneered disgustedly up at her. "Pray, tell me more of my upbringing. You seem to know far more about it than I," he spat. "Lap of luxury indeed!"

"You will not survive this attack, Sombra," Sunset Shimmer interjected. "Your death will be quicker than you deserve."

"And yours will be slow!" Challenged The King.

Sombra was hopeless. His situation was hopeless. Twilight Sparkle and Sunset Shimmer nodded to each other. Their horns flared. They adjusted their position so that Sombra would be directly below them. Each fired a beam in perfect synchronization toward each other. The shafts of light collided, intertwined, and they corkscrewed downward toward their captive.

Moondancer heaved with the effort of containing the explosion inside her time/space field. The dome began to pulse and expand as the powerful force within its confines pushed against its walls. "I can't hold it!" she cried out. If the shielding she provided failed, the explosion would ravage an untold amount of the country side. "Someone! Anyone! I need help!"

Starlight Glimmer acted quickly. She released the chains, as they were no longer required. Sombra should have been destroyed on a molecular level at that point. She then began to suffuse her own arcane might into Moondancer. The containment of the explosion took several minutes and required an incredible amount of focus.

When the kinetic force finally relented inside of the field like a snow globe of churning ash, it was finally released, liberating a benign black cloud that expanded in all directions and obscured the area. Starlight Glimmer caught Moondancer before she could collapse to the ground.

"It's over," concluded Starlight. She turned her attention toward the sphere of protection she had cast over Fluttershy, straining her vision to its limit to be able to see through the veil of ash that was now sweeping the area. The mare inside was unconscious.

Magic, much like physics, had its own set of laws by which it must abide. Being in such close proximity to the blast must have sent ripples of excessive magical energy through the bubble that overwhelmed her. She was afraid that would happen. But the sphere allowed her to detect the biorhythms of any being trapped inside of it. Fluttershy was knocked out cold, but she was breathing, and her heart was beating. She would be fine.

"I love it when a plan comes together," Twilight sighed before she touched down on the ground. She stumbled in her state of exhaustion, but she was able to catch herself.

"So do I," Sunset Shimmer agreed, allowing herself to collapse when she landed. The snowy surface upon which she laid cooled her body. Her labored breaths were visible in the frosty air, mushroom-shaped plumes of steam. "What's next?"

Twilight wiped her brow with the back of her hoof. "First thing's first: Starlight, release the containment field on Fluttershy, make sure she's okay. Moondancer, you're going to go inside the manse and inform everyone that the King has been dealt with. Tell them they're free now. They can pack their things and get ready to return to the Crystal Empire. Sunset, you'll...." Twilight's train of thought abandoned her when the smoke that was emanating from the point of impact had dispersed enough to reveal that Sombra was still there. His carcass was inexplicably whole for someone who had just been caught in the center of an earth-shaking explosion. "What in Tartarus?"

They cautiously closed in around his body. He didn't seem to be breathing.

"That was a ten kiloton blast contained within a diameter of five meters," Moondancer said, perplexed. "There shouldn't even be a single cell of him left!"

"How?" Starlight exclaimed.

"He must have shielded himself somehow. The hows don't matter, we need to finish him."

"Finish him?" Moondancer laughed. "There's no way he can be alive. Look, he's not even breathing."

"I don't care!" bristled Twilight. "I won't be convinced he's gone until there's nothing of him left." Her horn began to flicker. The others traded baffled looks before they followed suit. All of them were weak from their exertions, but one more combined effort should be more than enough to carry out their deed. Sombra had no shielding. No protection. He was most likely dead, but they had to make sure.

"Alright," Twilight said. "Let's vaporize him. On three. One... Tw—

The King's eyes snapped open.

Startled, Moondancer released her spell prematurely. Sombra raised an arm, deflecting it away with his gauntlet. The missile bounced off the steel with a metallic clank and struck Sunset Shimmer. The impact sent the unsuspecting mare's body reeling like a rag doll. Her wound trailed a streak of blood through the snow as she went flipping and rolling until she slammed into the iron gate surrounding the garden. The sound it made when her body made impact was like that of a cathedral bell. There were no groans. No screams. No signs of life whatsoever. She just laid there, motionless as the snow below her body formed an expanding island of crimson all around her.

"Sunset!" Moondancer cried, before the king swung his foreleg low and swept her hooves out from under her. She kicked and thrashed wildly as he pulled her into a bone crushing embrace. Starlight and Twilight were forced to disengage. They would hit Moondancer if they released their spell.

"Let her go!" Twilight demanded.

"No, I don't think I will." Sombra applied pressure. Moondancer screamed. "Back away. Or she dies."

Twilight and Starlight reluctantly did as they were told.

"Release my queen!" Sombra demanded.

"Your queen?" Twilight scoffed. "More like your captive!"

The King was quick to show the princess the repercussions of her response. His grip tightened. Moondancer screamed. She screamed, and she screamed, until her face turned blue, and she couldn't scream anymore. Her eyes rolled up in the back of her head before they closed, and the hapless mare's body went slack. "She's not dead yet," warned The King. He loosened the embrace on his hostage, though just barely enough to unobstruct her airway. The unconscious Moondancer coughed out a pink mist. "But I could change that."

He's desperate, Starlight Glimmer realized. The Spell Twilight and Sunset hit him with must have taken more of a toll on him than his appearance revealed. Twilight's hypothesis may have been correct: He shielded himself, but in doing so it exhausted him. The problem was that she was teetering on the brink of depletion herself. She didn't know how much longer she could sustain Fluttershy's protective field. What was she to do?

"Her ribs are broken," Sombra cautioned them impatiently. "Release my queen, or her neck is next!"

Starlight Glimmer, in the urgency of the situation, abandoned any attempt to formulate an idea and decided that she would improvise instead. It all happened in the matter of seconds: She released the protective field around Fluttershy. Her lifeless body came plummeting toward the earth. Sombra turned his head. Starlight seized the opportunity the distraction allowed her and struck The King in the head with a crude yet focused blast of concussive force. With Moondancer in his deadly grip she dared not use a lethal strike, lest she risk a friendly casualty.

"You get Moondancer, I got Fluttershy!" she instructed, and without bothering to wait for Twilight Sparkle's response, her horn twinkled. She disappeared in a puff of smoke, then rematerialized in the sky to catch the incapacitated Fluttershy. She floated slowly toward the ground, where she deposited her onto the snow, then allowed herself a quick glance upward.

Twilight Sparkle had succeeded in her assigned task. She was laying Moondancer down as tenderly as she could to prevent exacerbating her injuries. Sombra remained where he was, his eyes dilated as he visibly struggled to regain his faculties. He had a concussion, he was incapable of performing magic do to his exhaustion - a lion without claws or teeth. He no longer posed a threat in his state. His annihilation could wait. Her friends were her priority now.

Starlight Glimmer checked Fluttershy's pulse before placing her ear against her chest. Her color was pale, her vitals slow, but she would be fine. She picked her up and carried her over to where Twilight had laid out Moondancer and Sunset Shimmer. All three of them were unresponsive, but at least they were alive. "What do we do now?"

"They need medical attention," replied Twilight.

"Out here?"

"Maybe one of the servants Cadence sent up here has some medical training." Twilight's voice was tinged with desperate hope. Her statement could have been a prayer. "Go, check."

"What are you going to do?"

Twilight's eyes narrowed into a glare as she looked toward Sombra. He was so dazed from the blow Starlight had dealt him, he looked helpless. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. "I'm going to finish this." The tip of her horn began to flicker. "Why are you still standing there? Go!"

"Be careful." And Starlight Glimmer was off, running as fast as the fallen snow would allow her. She skirted along the edge of the Manse wall in search for an entrance. She thought she had come upon one after turning a corner when a heartrending scream shattered the air. Starlight's hooves dug trenches through the snow as she came to a skidding halt. "Twilight?" She turned around, retraced her steps, rounded the corner, and her stomach dropped.

Twilight Sparkle was gasping for air as Sombra held her above his head by her throat. "Twilight!"

Sombra's face was a vicious snarl when his eyes fell upon her. "I will not let you take her!" he bellowed, then slammed The Princess down on the ground headfirst, in the way a petulant child would with a doll. In the next instant he was charging forward.

'A lion without teeth or claws.' That's what Starlight dared to compare him to. She tried to charge a spell, but Sombra's speed contradicted his size. He was on her in an instant. She had never seen anything so big move so fast in all her life. He drew his steel-clad hoof back and struck her. The blow sent her reeling into the unyielding wall of the manse. Gravity didn't have enough time to pull her to the ground before his powerful hoof struck her in the belly, knocking the wind out of her. Another hoof, this time from above, slammed down on the top of her skull. The full force of the impact was felt when she went face first into the snow.

The pain was like nothing she had ever felt before. The crack to her head was like an explosion of colors behind her eyes. Yet, somehow, someway, she clung to life, clung to consciousness, clung to her faculties. Anticipating an impending blow that would have most likely ended her existence, she rolled, then looked up just in time to see his hoof stomp down where she had just been, with all of his weight behind it.

Stay awake! Stay alive! She repeated the mantra in her head as she somehow managed to push herself up from the ground. Fight Or Flight was the most miraculous thing. The world around her seemed to move so much slower when she had taken into consideration that the slightest error in movement could spell her doom.

Sombra was not hindered or dismayed by his failure, however. He continued to press the onslaught. He swung, but Starlight managed to duck under it. He then threw a hard straight. Starlight, her eyes wide in desperation, bobbed her head just in time to feel his hoof grazing a deep cut along her face. His speed was too much to keep up with as his third attempt struck true. Her nose crunched under the impact. Dazed, she backed away a few steps, and her legs gave out from under her.

Starlight pulled for another spell, but she lost focus when he grabbed her by the nape of her neck, and proceeded to lift her up above his head, then slammed her hard on the ground.

"Why won't you die!" He slammed her down again.

Starlight could have vocalized a similar sentiment, but the ground fell away from her, and again it came rushing back to meet her.

"Die!" he demanded again, then repeated the action.

Darkness began to close in around her vision, but Starlight refused to let it take her. She let him slam her down against the ground one more time, then timed with surgical precision when she would be eye level with him again. She fought to keep her air in her lungs when she felt herself being lifted, charged a spell, then shot a searing ball of light into the snow beneath him. The King was immediately enveloped in a blistering plume of steam that rose from the point of impact. Sombra dropped her in a roar of anguish.

Starlight retreated to put some distance between them. With no time to think and her magic reserves all but depleted, she desperately infused what remained of her arcana into her body, instead of wasting it by focusing, aiming, and projecting it into another feeble missile. That would have required precious seconds Sombra simply wouldn't allow her. But a self infusion could be done instantly. She drew from the meager well inside her horn and funneled it into her body.

The King was covered in patches of unsightly burns when he came charging toward her.

"You want close quarters, big guy? You got it!"

Anticipating yet another wild swing toward her head, she awaited her opportunity. His hoof swished nothing but air as she dropped under it. She swept a hind leg out and took the lumbering brute's forefronts out from under him. Before he could land face first in the snow she clapped her hooves against his temples and gave his muzzle her knee instead, payback for breaking her nose.

Her knee struck the stallion at such a force, it sent him careening back on his hind legs. With his belly exposed she shot forward and pummeled his midsection, her hooves pounding away at flesh like a pair of furious pistons.

Sombra doubled over, and as he did, his face met with her hoof in a vicious uppercut. She felt a satisfying crunch under her hoof. "How does it feel to have your nose broken, you bastard!"

Sombra fell backwards, but Starlight utilized her magically augmented speed to appear at the point where he would land before he could fall. She then reared both her hind legs and shoved him airborne. Starlight met him before gravity could reverse his momentum, somersaulted, then guillotined him in the chest with a hind leg. All the air in his lungs evacuated as he met the ground.

In an attempt to finish the fight, Starlight tried to land her hoof on his throat with all the gravitational force she could muster behind it, but he rolled out of the way just in the nick of time.

Sombra managed to get up on his hooves, but he struggled to do so. The thrashing he had just received had visibly taken its toll on him.

Even the wind calmed when they stared each other down.

Starlight couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes was less primal than before, as if she had knocked his senses back into him. He was no longer the lumbering beast that had savaged her only moments ago. He had seemingly returned to that calm, calculating demeanor of his.

"What are you going to do?" Starlight taunted him. "Your magical reserves have been depleted, yet I still have some to spare. You can't take me relying on brute strength alone. Are you ready to give up?"

"Foolish girl," Sombra retorted. "You've infused your own body with the dwindling amount of magic you have left. An impressive trick. Reckless, but impressive. Who taught you how to do that?"

"You could deduce all that?" Replied Starlight, trying not to sound impressed. "Just came up with it on the fly. You like it?"

Sombra began to fidget with the fastenings of his gauntlets. "Your trick is not original. I've fought and killed others who could do the same thing. I dare not attempt it myself." He removed his gauntlet, smiling maliciously as if there was some sort of secret only he was privy to.

Starlight's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you on about?"

"Catch." Sombra hurled the gauntlet toward her. Starlight moved out of the way just in time. The armor piece embedded itself deep within the stone wall of the manse with a thunderous crash.

Starlight's eyes widened. "What in Tartarus are those things made of!"

Sombra let the other gauntlet fall to the ground. The impact sent out a warbling vibration Starlight felt beneath her hooves.

"Steel," Sombra replied. "Folded over a thousand times, then magically condensed. During my reign I had commissioned for the most gifted of spell weavers and armorers to construct them for me. They're tougher than Dragonbone, and far more dense than lead." The King's hair tumbled down his back as he removed his crown. He then removed his cape, held it out in a gesture that was almost melodramatic, then let the wind take it. "It's been a while since I've had a good melee."

Starlight had never seen a depiction of Sombra in the 'all natural' before. It was off putting how a few adornments could add so much contrast to one's appearance. "Do you really think removing a few articles of clothing will make a difference between us?"

"Only one way to find out," Challenged Sombra, and then he was gone. In the blink of an eye he was behind her. He swung, but Starlight avoided it. She countered, but Sombra blocked it.

The melee was a perpetually frustrating event for Starlight, as landing a precise strike was almost impossible. He blocked, bobbed, and weaved, but only rarely would he try to hit her. She had thought at first that she was simply too fast for him to do anything but defend, but as the fight drew on his movements became more and more effortless - almost contemptuously so. She got in a few shots, yet he remained calm and methodical. She eventually backed him into the manse wall, but he managed to escape his limited maneuvering space with a simple shove. Strangely he allowed her to get back up instead of seizing the opportunity to strike her while she was on the ground.

She charged forward, attempted to strike him with a right hook, but he trapped her arm with his own and again flung her harmlessly off balance. She was panting. The injuries Sombra had dealt her before her infusion dulled her nerve endings, they were beginning to make themselves known again. Her sides hurt worse than anything else. Every breath she drew became a punishing task. Did she have a broken rib? "Getting... Getting pretty sick of your Judo crap, Sombra!" she exclaimed in her frustration.

Sombra cocked a mocking eyebrow. "What is Judo?"

She awaited the opportunity for her next attack. He took a step toward her. "Here, let me show you!" She threw her arms around his forelegs, clenched them together, then heaved her shoulder into him with all her might in an attempt to topple him over. For all her efforts she might as well have been trying to grapple with a mountain. Where did all her power go?

"I see," Sombra taunted before he effortlessly shoved her away. "So, it's some kind of dance? Or, perhaps you're trying to mate with me?"

Frustrated, Starlight Glimmer released him and switched her tactic from grappling to striking. She hit him as hard as she could. The blow made impact, but it did no damage. She felt an excruciating tear in her arm. A whimper escaped through her lips. Sombra retaliated with a backhoof that sent her spinning to the ground. She tried to get to her hooves, then felt another tear, this time in her abdomen. She coughed out a glob of red. "What's happening to me?"

"Do you feel it?" Sombra shadow began to crawl over her as he approached. "That pain? That weakness? That's the sensation of your muscles tearing under the strain you've just put them under. Soon your vital organs will shut down one at a time, and you will die."

Starlight glimmer's vision began to fade. "Wh-whats..."

"Infusing your body with your own magic can be useful in short bursts when one's back is against the wall, but it can have dire consequences if not utilized properly. The strain you put on yourself in that time dictates the damage you inflict on your own body... And you've pushed yours well beyond its limits. I do not envy you for the pain you must be in right now."

Tears began to well up in Sarlight's eyes. She had heard the aching in muscles being compared to that of a burn, but her body felt as if it was on literal fire. A string of spittle extended from her bottom lip as she panted profusely in her intolerable anguish. She tried to think of Fluttershy, she tried to think of Moondancer, and Sunset Shimmer, and Twilight sparkle, but all she could think about was the pain. He had goaded her, taunted her, mocked her into constantly attacking him, knowing this would happen.

Sombra approached her. "I'm afraid I told a slight fib when I said I had killed those who have attempted to use your method of attack on me. Striking one who's bones and flesh are rendered more resilient than diamond through magic is about as effective as slamming your head against a stone wall. I merely defended against them, and allowed them to kill themselves - Just as I have done with you."

The glowing eyes of Sombra peering down at her was the last thing Starlight saw before the darkness swelled around her vision. The last thought she had before the darkness took her over was that she didn't want to die.

Awakening To A Summons

Cognition and self-awareness chased away the black nothingness that was Starlight Glimmer's dreamless sleep. She cracked her eyes and let out a light whimper as she struggled to regain her acuity. The world through her eyes was dark and blurry at first. She turned her head and, through the opaque shroud of mist that was her vision, she saw what looked like fireflies glowing in the darkness, the aura around them ethereal and pulsing like halos of tawny light. She blinked a few times and squinted before she could distinguish what it was she was looking at.

Candles...

Their ruddy illumination cast dancing shadows upon the wall, expanding and contracting, approaching then retreating, like a shadowy tide upon a cluster of isolated lighthouses in a sea of darkness.

The chamber in which she had awakened was as bleak and dingy as a tomb. The Dungeons below the Canterlot Castle looked like a birthday party at Sugar Cube Corner by comparison.

Starlight Glimmer grappled with her senses in an attempt to regain her memory. Where was she, and how did she get there?

She tried to sit up, but she couldn't. She looked down and realized she was restrained to a gurney. A thick padded leather strap was clasped and firmly tightened over her chest while her wrists and ankles had been bound to the bed's side railings with sturdy tethers.

Her first instinct was to use magic to free herself, but... She couldn't... She tried again, but she couldn't even feel the well of magic inside of her when she pulled for it. She started to panic. She lifted her head as high as her binds would allow to get a look at her surroundings.

Near the wall opposite her there was a long wooden table scattered with oblong glass vessels containing fluids of various glowing colors. The handle of an herb-stained pestle extended from a stone mortar in the corner of the mixing station, and jars containing soft balls of ghostly luminescence and an assortment of ointments were set in a neat row along a shelf mounted to the wall just above it.

Starlight Glimmer turned her head, and to her immediate right she noticed Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer, and Moondancer in the dim candlelight. They laid in old hospital gurneys with white cotton blankets pulled up to their necks. Still as corpses. They weren't restrained to their beds like she was. Why was that?

She considered the worst possibility, that they may no longer be among the living, but that couldn't have been true. Why give a corpse a bed to sleep in?

Starlight made several attempts to call out to them, but when there was no response, she decided to call for help instead. "Somebody?" she called out, fighting through the barren rasp of her voice, which was weakened from long disuse. She paused in hopes for a response. "Can anyone hear me..? Hello?"

The clacking of latches and the grading metallic cadence of a heavy bolt being rolled and drawn could be heard, and a steel, rectangular door hidden in the depths of the far side of the room's gloom creaked open on rusted hinges. A mare poked her head inside.

"Uh, hello?" Starlight Glimmer attempted.

The mare's eyes widened before her head disappeared and the door closed. The locks on the other side of the door clacked, followed by the strident whine of the heavy bolt securing it firmly in place.

"Wait, come back!" Starlight Glimmer shouted after her. She thrashed against her binds, but it was no use. The skittish mare wasn't coming back. "Crap," she cursed defeatedly under her breath. Frustrated and confused, she saw no other option but to wait in the hopes that the mare would return, preferably with the intention of telling her where she was.

Starlight Glimmer didn't know how many hours she had passed laying there, her concerned eyes constantly moving to her friends. She had made at least a thousand attempts to rouse them, but her efforts were fruitless. What was wrong with them? They couldn't have been dead... But they weren't moving, and they made not a sound since she had been watching them. Not so much as a stir or snore.

More time passed, and she had given up on trying to free herself. She could not use magic, and no matter how hard she tried she was unable to slip from her restraints. The strap around her chest secured her so tightly, she was just barely able to breathe, and nothing else. The tethered straps around her wrists and ankles were padded with a thick layer of wool to prevent self-inflicted cuts or scrapes. It was like equipment used to restrain patience in a psychiatric ward... Was that where she was - a loony bin?

She looked around and considered the stone walls; they weren't padded. The door, though... The locks were on the outside. It seemed like some sort of cell, but it couldn't have been a psyche ward. Her eyes then went to the equipment sitting atop the large wooden table: racks of test tubes, bubbling fluids in teardrop-shaped flasks, glowing oils, the pungent, sickly-sweet scent of burning herbs hanging over the air... Alchemy equipment - most of it was medicinal.

Starlight Glimmer's heart skipped a beat when she heard someone disengaging the locks on the other side of the door; someone was coming. At first she was relieved, but then she remembered she was immobilized, vulnerable; she would be completely at the mercy to whatever was about to enter the room. Consternation began to wash over her upon the realization.

The door opened very slowly, and the creature that came ambling through it was like something out of the deepest regions of her darkest nightmares. It wore a long-beaked mask, its crimson lenses gleaming as they reflected the candlelight. The same mare from before was following him in, pushing a trolley cart with an assortment of medical tools splayed neatly across its surface. Starlight Glimmer's blood ran cold as the mare shut the door behind her.

The thing with the mask drew closer. His body was covered in black leathery shrouds that had been crudely stitched together to make an eldritch perversion of a doctor's coat.

"Who are you?" Starlight Glimmer stammered.

"The Apothecary," said the mare in a deadpan voice, her eyes fixed in a narrow, expressionless trance. "My name is Winter Lilac. And this tall, handsome drink of water here is Doctor Patches. Say hello, Doctor."

The Doctor didn't reply.

Starlight looked him over uneasily. She was unable to see his eyes through the scarlet lenses of his mask, but she could feel them, as if they were moving up and down her body with malevolent intentions.

"What do you want with me?" Starlight stammered uneasily.

"We're here to inspect you," Winter Lilac replied. "King's orders."

"The King?" Echoed Starlight - and then it all came back to her with those two words: The botched ambush, the battle that ensued. She and her friends must have been somewhere deep in the catacombs under the manse. She wasn't sure if the manse even had catacombs, but the house was creepy enough for one to make the assumption.

Without warning The Doctor seized a small implement on the tray. Starlight closed her eyes and tensed up in preparation for whatever was about to happen to her. A moment passed before she felt a strange warmth tickle the inside of her ear. She opened her eyes. The Doctor was holding a tiny flash light. Placing a hoof on her cheek, he forced her to turn her head and shined the light down her other ear.

The Apothecary jotted something down on a clipboard. "No blockage or inflammation."

The Doctor kept her head still as he shined his light invasively down her nostrils.

"No deformation or protrusions in the bones or cartilage," The Apothecary continued. "It seems your broken nose healed just fine. Lucky you, that usually requires surgery."

Starlight Glimmer couldn't help but be confused. "What are you— ghug"

The Doctor interrupted her dialogue with a thrust of a popsicle stick between her teeth. He used it to pry her mouth open and depress her tongue to have a look down her throat.

"Again," The Apothecary said, " no inflammation or irritation. No discoloration of the tongue or gums. All good so far."

The Doctor removed the stick, discarded it, then selected a small hammer. He tapped her knee. Her leg twitched.

"Reflexes good."

Doctor Patches then pressed his hooves firmly upon Starlight Glimmer's sides and slid them down until they reached her flanks.

"Did you feel any pain when he did that?" inquired Winter Lilac.

"N-no?" Starlight Glimmer replied, flummoxed.

"Broken rib seems to have made a full recovery."

The Doctor retrieved a stethoscope from the tray and placed the cold plunger against Starlight's chest, which sent a cold jolt tingling down her spine. He listened quietly for a moment before he gave the Apothecary a silent nod.

"Heart beat good," she replied, scrawling on her clipboard. "Lungs functioning well."

The mute physician removed the stethoscope and placed it back on the tray.

"Doctor," said The Apothecary, "would this be a good time to prepare the mixture?"

The Doctor's silent gaze fell upon Starlight, then to The Apothecary. He nodded.

"It should be done in just a moment," replied the mare before she ambled over to the mixing station in the corner. She tweaked a tiny nob on a burner. A fluid in one of the teardrop flasks began to boil. A decanter tinkled like a series of tiny bells as she began mixing compounds together with a glass stirring rod.

The Doctor conducted a few more physical examinations, most of them consisting of gentle prods with a tiny metal rod that evoked involuntary spasms. He would nod astutely after every reaction and add something to the sheet of paper pinched to the clipboard.

Starlight Glimmer tried to ask them questions as they worked, but The Doctor either would not or could not speak, and The Apothecary was so engrossed in her task of mixing and measuring this with that, she would act like she didn't hear her. It was a frustrating ordeal, worrying about her friends while she laid there helplessly, being examined and prodded by a surly doctor ripped from the pages of a seventeenth century horror novel.

After a few more 'tests' were concluded, the Stallion began to tug at the fastenings on her wrists.

"Now, what are you doing to me?" Starlight asked, not expecting an answer.

"He's tightening your restraints," replied The Apothecary, inspecting a test tube filled with a sickly green fluid. Her eyes narrowed as she measured its contents. "We can't have you moving about while we administer the decoction. The King would most likely have us pilloried in the plaza if we were to injure you."

"What is that?" Starlight asked nervously, her eyes fixed on the luminescent substance in the vial.

"Medicine," was the mare's curt reply.

"For who?"

The mare's expressionless eyes snapped to her. "You, idiot. Who'd you think I made this for?"

"There's no way you'll get me to drink that!" Starlight said defiantly.

"Well, then, do I have good news for you," quipped The Apothecary. "It's to be taken intravenously." The mare inserted a syringe into the opening of the test tube, pulled back the plunger, and the tubular hollow began to glow with an emerald hue.

Starlight struggled against her binds, but The Doctor had tightened them too firmly. Her movement was restricted to merely a hair's breadth. "Twilight!" she cried. "Wake up! Help me!"

The Princess of friendship was deaf to her plea. She just laid there, unresponsive. She was but a mere husk. Dead to the world around her, and utterly unreachable.

The Doctor just watched her in cruel, stoic silence. The Apothecary cocked an unamuzed eyebrow, but she too remained silent, as if to wait out her fit of hysteria.

"What are you going to inject me with?" Starlight Glimmer whimpered as the futility of her struggle set in.

"Medicine," The Apothecary said for the second time. "It's a stimulant. It won't hurt you."

"A stimulant?" said Starlight, unconvinced. "Why would I need that?"

Winter Lilac tied off the veins in Starlight's arm with a strand of rubber surgical tubing before she said, "For your muscles. They've deteriorated over the six months your body has been inactive. You'll need a steady injection of this stimulant until you've regained your strength."

"Six months!" Starlight Glimmer's eyes widened. "That's... That's ridiculous! Who sleeps for six months?"

The mare's stern yet expressionless gaze met with hers. "You're calling me a liar?"

"No!" denied Starlight. "I'm just saying... Six months... That can't be..."

Winter sighed impatiently. "Doc," she said, "release the patient, please."

Doctor Patches did not so much as grunt a response or hesitate. He just did as he was told, in the way an enthralled zombie would do for the necromancer that granted him his un-life.

Starlight rubbed her chafed wrists. "Why did you free me?"

"To prove a point," replied the mare. "Get out of bed."

The Doctor held out his hoof to assist Starlight with the task, but The Apothecary intercepted him with an extended arm. "Hold on, doc. We'll just let her find out the hard way."

The Doctor silently but complicity drew his hoof back and sat on his haunches.

"Find out what the hard way?" Starlight inquired before she tried to sit up. The effort required to do so dismayed her. She grunted, and had to utilize the side railings to painstakingly pull herself to a sitting position. The ordeal left her breathless.

The Doctor and The Apothecary stepped back to give her room. "Well?" she said in a tone that came off as more of a challenge than a vocalization of her impatience. "I'm waiting."

Starlight managed to push herself over the bed's side railings, and the moment she transferred her weight to her hooves, she collapsed. She made several attempts to push herself back up, but she simply didn't have the strength. Her body was like a block of lead proportionately equal to her size. "Six months," she whispered piteously at the stone floor beneath her.

"Now, do you believe me?" chided The Apothecary. "Doc, turn her over."

The Doctor rolled Starlight Glimmer on her back.

"Now, just hold still." The mare wiped the crook of Starlight's elbow with a tiny cotton patch before she injected her with the fluid. Starlight winced as the needle penetrated her skin.

The Apothecary pulled away the rubber tubing around Starlight's foreleg with a gentle tug, and the veins in her arm became a sprawling network of neon green lines that slowly crawled toward her chest, then eventually spread over her whole body.

"The glowing should subside once the mixture has dissolved in to your blood stream," informed The Apothecary. "Looks pretty cool, doesn't it? Enjoy it while it lasts."

The stimulant seemed to be working. It wasn't long before Starlight Glimmer was able to push herself up from the ground. Her legs felt rubbery at first, but the sensation passed.

As soon as she was able to she made a bee line to where Twilight Sparkle was laying. She brushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear with a concerned hoof as she inspected her. She was barely breathing. Her pulse was weak. Her color was drained. Starlight tried nudging, then gave her face a few gentle taps with her hoof. "What have you done to her?"

"Other than look after her, nothing," replied The Apothecary.

"You call this 'nothing?'" Starlight Glimmer exclaimed. "She's a vegetable!"

"Yeah, severe blunt force trauma to the head will do that. Not to mention a fractured skull and spine, and a massive concussion." The mare smiled. For the first time she had an expression on her face. "The Doc here had to drill into her skull to relieve the pressure on her brain caused by the cerebral hemorrhage."

Starlight paled as she remembered the way Sombra slammed The Princess down on the ground headfirst like a rag doll.

"Not to worry," said The Apothecary. "She's not suffered any severe brain damage. Her skull mended nicely, as did the spine. You've The Doc to thank for that." She patted The Doctor's shoulder with a congratulatory hoof.

Starlight Glimmer sighed with relief, but then she remembered the others. She turned her head toward them. They seemed to be in the same comatose state as Twilight.

"They've recovered as well," informed The Apothecary. She skirted the bed and approached Moondancer's unresponsive husk. "All her ribs were broken. She had a collapsed lung, but The Doc managed to reinflate it - and..." She peeled back the sheets and slid her hooves down Moondancer's sides the way The Doctor had with Starlight Glimmer. "It seems that her ribs have fully healed. No ridges or rises."

She then moved on to Sunset Shimmer. "Severe trauma to the sternum. I don't know what it was that struck her, but it left burn marks. The impact was so fierce, bone fragments from her sternum lodged themselves into her heart. The Doc was able to remove them without rupturing the tissue and sutured her up, but she had lost a lot of blood at that point. To be honest, I thought this one was a goner. We lacked the equipment to test for her blood type, but we managed to round up a few universal donors who rallied to the poor girl's plight."

Starlight looked down at her own body. She was sickly pale, and her legs were as thin as twigs. "And what about me?"

"Almost every muscle in your body was torn. I've never seen muscular tension so severe in all my years. Kudos to you, missy."

Starlight's eyes narrowed into an annoyed glare. "Thanks."

"Not to mention that your organs were shutting down. All of them. Your pulse was dangerously close to flattening out."

Starlight screwed up her face. "Then how am I—

"Alive?" The Apothecary interjected. "Sombra; that's how. He decided to step in right around the time you started flat lining - mixed some sort of progressive stasis potion. I've heard of decoctions that could induce comas in order to expedite the body's natural healing process, but I've never seen or heard of one that functioned at such a magnitude as his."

"Progressive stasis?"

"You know, like a regenerative coma?"

"So, that's why I've been asleep for so long?" Starlight Glimmer directed her attention to their friends. "Why am I the only one who's awakened?"

The Apothecary's emotionless eyes turned to Twilight Sparkle before she replied. "Sombra modified the potion for them. Though their bodies were healed, they cannot wake up on their own. The only way to rouse them is to counteract the potion with an anti-potion. A remedy only Sombra knows how to make."

"And you as well?" Starlight said hopefully.

"Nice try, but no. I don't know how to make it. And even if I did, there's no way I would wake The King's would-be assassins without his permission. Sombra's anger is... Well, it's quite a thing to behold."

Even The Doctor, with all his stoicism, shivered at the thought.

"Assassins?" Starlight scoffed.

"Well, if that's not what you are, what are you?"

"We were here for Fluttershy!" insisted Starlight.

"The Queen?" said The Apothecary incredulously. "You tried to assassinate our queen? Well, now I'm just as surprised as you are that you're still alive. The King dotes over and covets his queen above all else. I feel sorry for any poor sod who's caught looking at her wrong."

"We were here to—

"I don't care what your plan was. It failed, obviously. And now here you all are. Alive. Be grateful. Sombra could have come down here anytime within these past six months and slid a blade across your throats, but he hasn't. You're lucky The Queen has been protecting you from him."

"Our plan wasn't to... Wait, what?" The Apothecary's statement opened up a whole line of new questions once Starlight's brain fully processed it. Fluttershy was the one protecting her?

"What about what now?" Said Winter, confused.

"What you just said - Something about Fluttershy protecting us. What does that mean?'"

"The Queen had the DIS, the Diplomatic Immunity Stipulation, written and signed immediately upon your capture, which protects foreign prisoners from arbitrary capital and corporal punishment."

Starlight blanked stupidly.

Winter Lilac grunted in frustration. But then she must have remembered that Starlight Glimmer hadn't exactly been sapient for the past six months. "Celestia knows all of you are here, you following me?" she began. "She demanded your release, but Sombra, refusing her demands, indicated Twilight Sparkle and her band as war criminals for their attempted regicide. The King implicated Celestia for the attack, but The Princess denounced Twilight Sparkle's actions and claimed ignorance, going so far as to promising that she would reprimand Twilight Sparkle herself upon her safe return. But Sombra insisted that you and all your friends were his to do with as he pleased.

"After arguments and threats were launched from both sides, The Queen stepped in to quell the strife and offered up a bill that she had written herself, which is what we know as the DIS. The DIS guarantees your protection, while at the same time giving Sombra the right to keep you here as long as he deems necessary."

Starlight gawked in disbelief. "And Sombra just went along with all of this?"

"The key was in the conditions: In signing the document, Celestia was forced to recognize the Peninsula as its own sovereign nation. This made Sombra very happy, as trade could then be established. Between the agricultural bread basket that is Equestria, and the peninsula's all but unlimited wealth of valuable ore and precious minerals, they have much from which they can mutually benefit.

"And what condition did Sombra have to follow through with?"

"Well, aside from the guarantee that Celestia's precious Princess of Friendship wouldn't be mistreated, Sombra agreed to accommodate a diplomat of her choosing within his walls. Her way of insuring he's being a 'good boy,' I suppose."

"And Fluttershy did all of this?" Starlight said, trying not to sound cynical. She was skeptical at best. She tried to imagine Fluttershy stepping between two demigods ready to kill each other, a piece of legal parchment cutely hanging down from her mouth, looking up at them with those sweet, pleading eyes of hers... She just couldn't see it.

Winter Lilac cocked her head to the side. "I can tell from the look on your face that you don't believe me. Very well. You'll soon find out what's false and what's real."

"It's not that I don't believe you - it's just, if you knew Fluttershy the way I know her, you too would be—"

She was interrupted by a harsh knock on the steel door. It opened. A stallion clad in polished steel gauntlets and a metallic helm ornate with small red horns entered. "Is the prisoner ready?"

Prisoner? Starlight Glimmer thought, dejected. It all dawned upon her with a cruel sort of humor: She was a prisoner in a foreign nation now, stripped of her identity. It was poetic justice, she supposed. There had been a time when she had subjugated an entire commune in exactly the same way. She had suspected for some time now that her sins of the past would eventually catch up with her.

Winter Lilac gave the sentry a nod. "She's ready."

"Good." The guard regarded Starlight Glimmer with cold, contemptuous eyes. "You'll be coming with me, prisoner. And you'll come along nice and quite, now, won't you?"

"Where are you taking me?" Starlight inquired uneasily.

"You'll find out when we get there." The sentry's eyes narrowed intimidatingly, as if he was daring her to resist. He wasn't very tall, but what he lacked in stature, he more than made up for in muscle. The sections of his upper legs, which his gauntlets did not obscure, were thick and knotted. The veiny muscles in his neck rippled whenever his head moved. Most of the guards back at Canterlot, and even the Crystal Empire, were not in possession of such a physique. Guard duty was considered soft service where she was from. Some had even let themselves go and became portly after passing the academy's lax physical fitness requirements. The guard who stood before her however, he looked as if he was carved out of mahogany.

Starlight had no other choice but to obey the stallion's command. He wouldn't be so tough if I could just use my magic, she thought. She had taken the Apothecary's knowledge of medicine into consideration, and deduced that she had been feeding a steady supply of magic-nullifying drugs in to her system while she had been sleeping.

The corridor was long and lit with candles ensconced along the walls. It not for the light they provided, it would have been pitch black. The sentry had escorted her through another steel door that led to a staircase. Starlight ascended it uneasily. She would have liked to have known where she was being taken, but the guard would demand her silence before she could get out so much as a second syllable.

The staircase took them to another hall, which led to another staircase. Starlight was beginning to realize just how accurate she was when she had surmised that she was below the manse. They eventually came to another hall, but this one had windows. She must have been on the ground level floor now.

Every window she passed allowed her a quick peek at the world outside. Beyond the iron gate surrounding the manse, she saw cobblestone roads paved between rows of cottages and cabins. When they had reached the second story, she had a clear view of the Ponies, Griffins, Hippogriffs and commerce of other species hustling and bustling about the streets and alleyways. Children whooped and laughed as they chased each other around structures and pelted one another with snowballs. Vendors and artisans peddled their wares from wagons chocked on the side of a long road that elongated into what looked like a bazaar.

"None of this was here before," Starlight mused.

"Aye. Peddlers Road, they call it," The guard said, finally deigning to reply. "Leads to The Plaza, a circular shopping district where the more successful capitalists establish their businesses. Don't do much shopping there myself. I prefer to help the little guys out on the road."

"And the commerce?"

"Freed slaves, most of them. Others are settlers who have come to The King seeking refuge for their families."

"Freed slaves?" echoed Starlight.

The sentry grunted affirmatively. "The King and Queen have vowed to free every slave in New Haven, and crush all who oppose them. With their rule established, and the reach of their conquest extending by the day, It is only a matter of time until their ambition comes to fruition."

"New Haven?"

"The land that was once called The Bandit's Hook, or the peninsula, for the geographically savvy. It is now called New Haven. And a haven it is."

Starlight Glimmer struggled to digest all the new information she had been given over the short time she had been awake. Sombra was pro slavery, was he not? And the bit about Fluttershy 'crushing' any who opposed her brought on questions that branched off into even more questions. Had Sombra influenced her into becoming the same monster that he was?

"We've arrived," announced the sentry, when they had come upon a large door.

"Arrived where, exactly?"

"The spa."

Starlight Glimmer screwed up her face, as she was sure she did not hear the guard correctly. "The... The what, now?"

Starlight's surly escort pushed the door open and said, "She's all yours, ladies."

Before Starlight Glimmer even knew what in Tartarus was going on she was rushed by a team of female attendants. The guard shut the door behind them.

Daylight entered the spa through a glass dome overhead. The area was large, with a rounded pool in the center. Streams of steamy water came rushing from spouts that were mounted along its edges. The spa's walls, where they did not shimmer with immaculate white tiling, featured exquisitely painted murals of tranquil scenery, such as ocean waves rushing over a shore that gave way to a deep forest. Starlight Glimmer was gobsmacked by the decadence of it all.

The mares that had commandeered her brought her before the pool and shoved her forward. She only had enough time to let out a startled yelp before the water came rushing up to meet her.

The pool was hot, and when her head came back up she noticed subtle hints of honey and crushed lavender wafting about the steam. The pressure from the spouts created miniature currents and vortexes about the water that gently swayed her this way and that.

Two mares followed after her. They gracefully descended down the stone steps until they were chest deep in the bath's hot, rushing water, then they approached her.

Starlight backed away from them, her soaked mane steaming and clinging to the side of her face. "W-what are you doing?"

One of the mares who had entered the pool after her, a striking beauty with black fur and bright violet eyes spoke to her in a strange accent that was spiced with a voice as crisp as a bell. "Do not be afraid. We only wish to make you presentable for his majesty."

"Presentable?" was all Starlight could seem to say.

"I do not mean to offend you my love, but you smell like a three day rotted corpse. And have you seen your mane? I'm surprised rats are not living in it. And your hooves! They're all yellowed and cracked. You look like you have the scurvy."

Starlight fought the instinct to smell her underarms. She did run a hoof through her mane, though. It was tangled and felt like seaweed. "I've been sleeping for six months," she offered abashedly.

"I know," said the spa attendant. "That's why we are here, my love. Come, let us work our magic on you."

And so Starlight complied, unsure if she even had a choice. The spa attendants had brought her near the edge of the pool and sat her on a stone bench, where she sank neck deep in the scented water. One mare seated herself behind her and massaged her shoulders as another straightened the numerous tangles out of her mane with a comb.

The blue-eyed mare with the dark coat and mysterious accent filled in the cracks of her hooves with an aesthetic sealant. When she was finished doing that, she began to file them. She looked up from her work to regard Starlight with a kind smile. "You're very beautiful."

Starlight Glimmer was too deep in her vexation to be flattered by the compliment. "Uh, thanks, miss..."

"My name is Violet Viola," said the spa pony. "Is something wrong? You're so silent. I've had more lively conversations with my violin."

Starlight winced as the masseuse transitioned from her shoulders, to the center of her upper back, working her elbow firmly into her muscles with a circular motion. Under different circumstances the massage would have felt magnificent, but for the life of her she couldn't bring herself to relax. "I... I have no idea what's going on," she finally said.

"The King wishes for us to give you a long over due pampering. He told us that he wanted you to receive nothing less than the VIP treatment." The exotic mare inspected Starlight Glimmer's hooves thoroughly before she deposited her file in a hooficure kit she had laid out at the edge of the pool.

"The King wants to spoil me?" Starlight inquired. "Why would he want that?"

"I suppose he wants you nice and relaxed for your audience with him." The spa pony began to browse through a numerous selection of tiny bottles in her kit. "What color polish do you like?"

Starlight's anxiety was compounded by the mare's statement. "He wants an audience with me?"

"Oh, yes. He's quite looking forward to it."

"Why?"

Violet Viola turned back to her and winked. "Perhaps you have caught his eye. He has good taste, yes?"

Starlight, failing to find the humor in the mare's ridiculous claim, fidgeted nervously. What could Sombra possibly want with her?

"I am kidding, my love," giggled the spa attendant. "Now, I ask again, what color would you like your hooves?"

"I'm not really in to coloring my hooves," Admitted Starlight.

"Very well," replied Violet. "Foundation it is. Let's make those hooves sparkle."

Starlight Glimmer was assisted by the spa attendants as she climbed out of the pool. She was dried with warmed towels and her mane was trimmed and styled to her preference. When they had finished, she beheld her image in the mirror. Her hooves glimmered like polished ivory, and her coat had never looked so glossy in all her life.

Violet rolled out a rack of dresses and said, "Would you like to try something on?"

Starlight declined at first. She didn't want to try on dresses. She wanted to know what in Tartarus The King wanted with her. But she eventually conceded when the attendants insisted. At random she had selected a silky white number that resembled a toga.

"You're gorgeous, my love," insisted Violet as she fastened the dresses' clasp about her neck. "The King will be too stunned to speak when he sees you."

A rush of steam fled through the spa's entrance when it opened, and in walked a child. Her coat was snow white, and her midnight blue mane was bound back with a scarlet ribbon that was clasped with a skull-shaped broach. She pushed her thickly framed glasses up the slope of her muzzle before she spoke. "The King grows impatient. Is she ready yet?"

"I believe that is a question for our guest, Madam Adviser," replied Violet in an amiable albeit haughty manner.

"Adviser?" Starlight said.

"Yes, my name is Ethereal Moon, adviser to his majesty, The King," the tiny mare said matter-of-factly. "You may address me by my name, or by my title." Her glasses slid down her muzzle. She pushed them back up and asked, "So, are you ready?"

"Ready for what? Where am I being taken now?"

"Why, to The King, of course."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be, I guess," Starlight complied with a perturbed reluctance.

"Right, then. Come along with me, would you kindly?"

"Please be nice to her," requested Violet as they were leaving the spa together. "She's understandably frightened."

"Noted," replied the adviser before she let the door shut between them.

Starlight Glimmer dragged her hooves with the enthusiasm of one being escorted to the gallows. With the adviser leading the way, she climbed long staircases and traversed through expanding corridors. It was as if the manse had grown larger since her long sleep. Either that, or it was somehow bigger on the inside than it was on the outside.

They had eventually arrived at an expanse of stone steps that brought them to a platform. At the top were silver double doors ornate with dueling dragons facing each other, and on each side stood sentries clad in the same armor as the guard whom had escorted Starlight Glimmer to the spa. They too were muscular and surly, with implacable grimaces etched into their faces. When they saw the adviser they bowed their heads and reached for the ringed handles of the doors.

Starlight chewed her lip nervously. Sombra was behind those doors. She could feel it.

"This is where we part ways, I'm afraid," the adviser announced before she turned around and began her awkward strafe down the broad steps on her diminutive legs.

Starlight could feel her heart pounding faster as the doors began to part. They might as well have been the gates of Tartarus. "You're not coming in with me?" she blurted, dismayed. The little adviser's presence wouldn't offer her much comfort, but still, she didn't want to be alone with that demented demon.

"The King has requested a private audience with you," replied Ethereal Moon as she touched down at the steps' precipice. "Besides, I'm busy. The King has yet to appoint an escort for Celestia's diplomat, so its fallen to me to babysit him. And don't think for a second that that's a walk in the park. That Prince Blueblood, let me tell ya: he's a real pain in the ass."

"Can you at least tell me what he wants with me?" Starlight Glimmer pleaded.

"You can ask him yourself," came the adviser's reply, accompanied with a parting "Ta-ta."

Starlight swallowed nervously as the space between the double doors widened, and that's when she saw him: The Tyrant. The Monster. His back was turned to her. He faced a massive, rounded window pane, a glass of wine swirling in his hoof as he appeared to be looking down at the hamlet that sprawled out beyond his gates.

The guards watched Starlight Glimmer as she forced herself to shuffle forward. They closed the doors behind her. Sombra's ears twitched before he turned away from the window. His glowing eyes narrowed with intrigue when they fell upon her, and Starlight Glimmer's heart threatened to stop beating when he smiled.

"Ah, my dear lady. We meet at last."

Dining With The Devil

An uneasy silence emanated throughout the chamber. The King looked as if he was waiting for Starlight Glimmer to return his greeting. The seconds ticked by, and Sombra's eyes narrowed impatiently as he took a sip from his glass.

Starlight's knee-jerk reaction to his slight movement would have been to back away, but her body wouldn't obey the signals from her brain. There was nothing separating her from him, nor was there a route of escape. She felt like a frightened fawn that had been tossed into an enclosure with a hungry lion.

"You must be famished," said The King, finally shattering the oppressive silence. The dark note his deep voice carried reverberated through the walls. Like the first growl of an ensuing thunderstorm, it was of a tenor that evoked unease. He then gestured to a long table lined with fruit and pastries and decadent-looking desserts. Behind it, crackling flames lapped away at a stack of cedar logs in a fireplace that could have been large enough to be an entrance to a cave.

Starlight Glimmer could only gawk at the feast, perplexed. She hadn't even noticed it until that moment. When standing face-to-face with a monster that could dismember you with his bare hooves as easily as look at you, it's difficult to notice anything else. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten, but her anxiety made it easy to ignore the emptiness gnawing away at her innards. She managed to stammer out a "N-no, I'm fine, thank you." from between her trembling lips.

"Come now, it has been six months since last you've eaten." The King approached a chair at the far end of the table. He seated himself, then reached for a pink and gold apple resting in a bowl. He inspected it briefly before sinking his teeth deep into its flesh. "Honeycrisp," he said temptingly. "My personal favorite."

Starlight's stomach growled ferociously at the sight of The King's incisors ripping deep into the meat of the apple. It exploded with juices. The wet crunch echoing in her ears was an audible testament to its satisfying texture.

"Won't you join me?" Sombra beckoned her again, indicating the empty chair at the opposite end of the table.

Starlight gathered all the courage she could find within herself, and she finally said, "Why have you summoned me here?"

Sombra placed what was left of the apple on the tip of his tongue and let it roll into his gaping mouth. Core and all. He didn't bother to chew the morsel. There was just the snapping of his jaws, then a swallow. Some residual juice ran down from the corner of his lip before he wiped it away and explained, "I find that fine food can taste all the finer when enjoying it with fine company." He laxed back in his seat and steepled his hooves beneath his chin in the way a Saturday morning cartoon villain would. "And you are indeed fine company, my dear."

Starlight had no reply for that. What could she say? She had anticipated throughout the day that she would be tortured, interrogated, or possibly even executed. She had envisioned red hot pincers, a dunking tub, boiling oil, the rack. But being wined, dined, and flattered? Not something she expected.

Sombra considered her appraisingly. "You look positively ravishing in that dress," he critiqued. The tip of his horn illuminated and a cork popped from the mouth of a bottle near Starlight's end of the table. A rivulet of red wine filled a fine crystal glass. The bottle was then returned from whence it came. "It suits you much better than the previous owner."

"P-previous owner?" Starlight stammered.

"A daughter of a well-known count in this region. She inherited his estate after one of my soldiers crushed his head in with a mace. I gave her the option to surrender, but she instead decided to squander the opportunity I had given her, and she took up arms against me in an ill-fated attempt at revenge."

Starlight Glimmer looked down at her dress. "And what happened to her?" she asked, unsure of whether or not she truly wanted to know the answer.

"Butchered by her own slaves. Stories of The King who had come to free them had reached their ears. My army battered her forces outside of her keep. When the slaves inside realized that my victory was certain, they rallied together with any tool or implement they could get their hooves on to take up arms against their vile countess and her subordinates.

"They eventually fought their way to her chamber, where they found her cowering under her bed. Her former slaves dragged her out from her hiding space and ended her miserable existence with a raucous clamor of shovels, improvised clubs, and wood axes." Sombra gave pause to look her over once more. "Her dress, though. You may keep it, if you wish. I make it a gift to you."

Starlight Glimmer tugged at the golden clasp below her neck. "I don't want to wear some murdered girl's dress."

"Come now," Sombra said, like a passive aggressive father attempting to placate his unreasonable daughter. "The maids did an exemplary job of scouring it clean. Blood is so hard to wash out of whites."

"You mean she was wearing it when she was killed?" Starlight blanched. Now she really didn't want it. In her eagerness to rid herself of the grizzly memento she tore the clasp off. She was so frantic in kicking it away when it puddled about her hooves that she almost stumbled over.

Sombra lifted his wine glass and complained, "That was perfectly good silk you just tore." before he took a sip.

"Forget the silk!" Starlight Glimmer bristled. "You beat me within an inch of my life, then you have me bathed and dolled up to have dinner with you?"

"Yes, that is quite an accurate summary," Sombra replied in a way that was so calm, it was just insufferable.

"What do you want from me!" Starlight demanded.

"I just want to talk."

"About what?"

Sombra once again indicated the empty seat opposite from his end of the table. "Please, sit. All will be clear in time. Until then, I would like you to eat."

"If you think I'm going to pretend to forget all the atrocities you've committed, you're sorely mistaken. We've nothing to talk about, you monster!"

"Monster?" The King cautioned her with a glare. "Need I remind you that it was you who attacked me in the courtyard? I could have killed you and your pathetic little friends for your attempted regicide. I would have had every right to do so. But I didn't. From the way I see it, you owe me your life. And if you continue to be impertinent, I'll not hesitate to collect on your debt!"

Starlight Glimmer was taken aback by The King's display of ire. The lion had bared his fangs, and she was once again the frightened little doe.

Sombra, still scowling, softened his voice to a tone that was unsettlingly calm. "But I don't want your life. I don't want your friends' lives, either. I would like to let them go free. However, that is a decision that ultimately depends on you."

"W-what's that supposed to mean?" Starlight said, rubbing her arm nervously.

The King rested his elbows on the table and poised with his hooves steepled in front of his muzzle, his serpent-like eyes sizing her up like a rattlesnake about to strike. "Ah, so now you wish to talk," he mused. "Sit. Eat. All will be made clear in time, I assure you."

And so Starlight Glimmer did as she was told, not wanting to provoke a second outburst.

The King looked pleased as she finally eased herself into her seat. "Try the wine," he suggested.

Starlight took a nervous sip from the cup he had poured for her. Her hoof shook so bad that some of the red in her glass dribbled over its sides.

"Do you like it?"

Starlight kept her eyes lowered as she gave a wordless nod.

"Of course, you do. A classy wine for a classy lady," Sombra complimented her. "My wife does not approve of the vintage, I am sad to report." He then shrugged and added, "She has what my father would have called a 'commoner's palate.'"

"A commoner's palate?" Starlight echoed curiously.

"Father used such terms to perpetuate the aristocratic fallacy that his blood somehow made him superior. There is, however, no such thing as 'royal' blood; a lesson I learned when I spilled his. It was the same color and consistency as anyone else's. And when his bowels released, as I thrust the dagger into his belly, his shit did not shimmer like gold or smell of roses."

He presented his goblet, as if its image were to provide some sort of visual aid. The wine-filled glass shined like a ruby by the light of the fire. "We all bleed red, my dear. No matter what your pedigree may be. No matter who you may have descended from." He drained his glass and said, "My Queen is lowborn. Yet, her spirit is far more noble than my father's ever was." And then his expression soured as he scoffed, "'Commoner's palate.' Bah!"

"Your Queen," Starlight said uneasily. She finally looked up and dared to meet The King's gaze. "Fluttershy, you mean?"

"Aye, Queen Fluttershy." The King smiled, as if just evoking her name was enough to leave a sweet taste in his mouth.

The King's fawning demeanor brought Starlight Glimmer to a surprising conclusion: "You love her," she said. It wasn't a question.

"This comes as a surprise to you?" The King queried as he refilled his glass.

"I didn't even think one such as you would even be capable of..." Starlight stifled herself before she could finish her presumptuous statement, but it was too late. It was obvious by The King's expression that he took her meaning. It wasn't a snarl or a sneer. It was a smile.

"There was once a time when you may have been correct," Sombra admitted. "My childhood left me with a bitter contempt for such emotions. Even after I had killed my father, I was consumed with an obsession to afflict my suffering upon others."

Starlight gave him a thoughtful look. "That's the second time you've mentioned your father."

"Yes, well," The King said in a suddenly self aware manner, "we all have our demons to slay, I suppose."

Starlight waited for him to divulge more. But he didn't. So, the big bad King Sombra has daddy issues, she concluded. It was curious how a thousand year old wound, be what it may, could remain so fresh. Or, festering with rot and corruption, may have been a better analogy.

"You've not eaten yet," Sombra observed. "I will not force anything down your throat, but I would implore you to eat."

Starlight Glimmer fidgeted nervously in her seat. "You said you wanted to talk to me about something - something about letting my friends and I walk free?"

"Eat, and I will tell you."

Starlight finally gave in. She had lost a noticeable amount of weight in her long sleep. She was hungry, and there would be no point in starving herself. It wouldn't change whatever Sombra's plans may have been. She selected a cluster of green grapes, a heel of bread, and she poured herself a bowl of a sweet and sour-smelling pumpkin soup.

They ate in silence for a time. Starlight was mopping up the remnants of her soup with a torn piece of bread when Sombra finally said, "Is everything to your liking?"

"It's pretty good," she admitted. Despite her situation, the food had lifted Starlight's spirits somewhat. The soup was better than anything she had had at any five star restaurant. The wine was indeed a fine vintage. And the bread tasted as fresh as if it had just come out of the oven. She eyed a pumpkin pie that was just outside her reaching distance as she worked the last bite of her supper around in her mouth. That would be the next dish to go, she had decided.

"Help yourself," said The King, as if he knew what she was thinking. His horn glowed, and the pie slid closer to her. He had also poured her another glass of red. She could see that the bottle was now empty as it returned to its place.

"Uhm... Thanks," Starlight Glimmer forced herself to say. Sombra fancied himself a gentlecolt. Who would have known? She was carving a wedge out of the pie when Sombra spoke again.

"Your friends..."

That was all he needed to say to get her attention. Starlight's eyes met with his, the pie suddenly forgotten. "Yes?"

"I would be willing to let them leave..."

"Yes?" Starlight said eagerly. She wished she hadn't eaten so fast. The anticipation was enough to make her gorge rise.

"But only If you agree to stay here."

The knife Starlight Glimmer was using to cut the pie fell away from her hoof. "What?"

Sombra corrected himself in his seat. He postured himself in what looked like a 'down to business' kind of pose. His eyes narrowed with a shrewd intent. "You and your friends tried to kill me. I'm willing to forgive you for that, but I'll not forget. I'll not risk a second attempt on my life. If I were to perish now, the fragile sovereignty of the nation I am building will be flung into chaos. The slavers I have pushed from their territories will be seeking retribution from those I will no longer be able to protect. That is not a risk I'm willing to take."

"So, I'm to be your hostage, is that it?
Do you intend to ransom me?"

"Don't be a dullard. I just feasted you; if I wanted you as a hostage we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'm making you an offer."

Starlight Glimmer felt cold as she fell back in her seat. "What kind of offer?"

"You showed magnificent prowess in the way you fought me. You were deviously cunning. You improvised well in the face of all the impracticalities I threw your way. You were quick on your hooves, and you displayed exceptional feats of magic. Those chains you summoned. I've never seen an alloy I was unable to break... Did you really pull those up from Tartarus?"

Starlight nodded nervously. "They're unbreakable. Impervious to magic, as well."

"Just as I thought," Sombra thought out loud, looking legitimately impressed. "I've heard of magic like that, but I've never actually witnessed it. How did you manage that spell?"

"Uhm... It would take weeks to explain it... It's a very complicated spell," Starlight fibbed. The Chains of Tartarus was a very rare and forbidden spell. Celestia had ordered any kind of magical knowledge that dealt with Tartarus to be struck from the books over a thousand years ago. And for a good reason: The forces of Tartarus were treacherous and difficult to control. Lesser spell casters have been killed while attempting to harness The Underworld's power. She only managed to learn the spell through Sunburst, who kept a collection of contraband knowledge hidden in his home. Still, she was not about to impart that knowledge to Sombra. It would only make him more dangerous than he already was.

"I see..." The King's voice was saturated with skepticism. He regarded her with a look which conveyed that he knew she was lying. But he didn't press the subject. For that Starlight was relieved.

"Never the less," Sombra continued, "to call your skills impressive would do you a disservice, my dear." He leaned forward in a slow and unsettling sort of way. "I would like you to join me. I wish to take you on as my apprentice."

Starlight's heart threatened to stop beating the moment The King made his intentions clear. Her voice became tenuous. "What? Why... W-why would..."

"For the reasons I have already explained. You are a dangerous enemy. But you'd make a valuable asset."

"And if I refuse?" challenged Starlight.

Sombra regarded her with a stern gaze. "Then, I am afraid I would not be inclined to release your friends."

"You can't do that!" Starlight grasped for anything that would give her some pull for a negotiation. Her next words blundered clumsily out of her mouth. "The diplomatic immunity... Thing...."

The King's eyes glinted with intrigue. "The DIS? I see you are well informed. Unfortunately, there is nothing within that contract that limits how long I may hold you here. I could keep you here for the rest of your lives, if I so please. My Queen is quite a shrewd diplomat, is she not?"

"That's not fair!" insisted Starlight. "That had to have been an oversight on her part!"

"Oversight or not, the DIS says what it says. I've held up my end of the bargain thus far. I've not mistreated you or your friends in any way shape or form. Quite the contrary, in fact: I've spent a vast amount of time and resources keeping you all alive and well."

Starlight Glimmer felt trapped. "There must be some other way I could convince you to let us go. What could you possibly want with an apprentice?"

"It is a crime to waste good talent," Sombra explained. "You'll never fulfill your potential as you are now, squandering your gifts under the tutelage of Princess Celestia's impotent protege, a mare who's skills you've far surpassed. You are a Journeyman wizardress taking lessons from a mere neophyte. Join me, and I will make you a master. What say you?"

Starlight looked down at the table. Was joining him really her only option? To refuse him would be condemning her friends to a lifetime of imprisonment. She needed time to think. Those couldn't have been her only choices. There had to be something else. She just needed to stall for time while she thought.

"Well?" Sombra said impatiently.

Starlight thought back to the reason she had come to Sombra's kingdom in the first place, and an idea for a stall tactic popped up in her head. "I want to see Fluttershy."

"In time," The King promised. "She's busy fulfilling her obligations to her people."

"Please!" Starlight persisted. "I just want to see her. I just need to make sure she's okay."

"And why wouldn't she be?" Sombra said suspiciously, as if he was offended by what Starlight's words may have implied.

"I haven't seen her since you took her from The Crystal Empire. How can I just take your word as gospel that she's fine?"

Sombra glared obstinately at her. "Because you have no other choice. Make no mistake, until you pledge your fealty to me, you will remain as my prisoner. You're in no position to make demands of me."

Starlight bit her lip. Sombra was not a creature that would be reasoned with. It was his way or the highway, it was clear to see. "So," she finally said, "I get to choose between a life of imprisonment, or a life of slavery."

"Your statement offends me greatly," Sombra bristled. "Slavery has been abolished in the territories I've taken. No slave has been awarded the privilege I'm offering you. Chose your words more carefully, or it will be back to sleep you go. And I promise you, you will see wrinkles in the mirror when next you awaken."

The threat tangled Starlight's insides into knots. Would he really be so cruel?

The chair Sombra was seated in groaned in protest to his weight as he rested back. He turned his attention toward the fire and sighed. "I am a slaver no more," he said, under his breath, as if he was talking to himself.

Starlight blinked. What was this sudden shift in tone all about? "Then, what is it you claim to be?"

Sombra's visage hardened as he mulled over the question. "I am a wave of suffering that crashes over the shores of evil. I am a bane to the very existence of every monster that roams these lands. I am the apex: The predator that preys upon the predators."

Starlight Glimmer thought back to when she noticed the sprawling hamlet beyond the windows of Sombra's manse. She had reflected on the words the guard had imparted to her as she was being escorted through the hall. The new kingdom was described as a haven for those who were once the thralls to the tyrants that held domination over the land. She had found difficulty in taking those words to heart. With what she had witnessed at the fortress she and her friends had stumbled upon six months ago, the bodies laying strewn and mangled throughout the pink, blood drenched snow, the terrified, lifeless eyes looking at her from the tips of pikes, she still had a hard time believing it. But there was so much sincerity in Sombra's voice, she couldn't help but be conflicted.

"Why?" Starlight heard herself say. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why does anyone do anything?" Sombra retorted. "Because I can."

"So, is history wrong about you?"

"History is written by the victor. I've no doubt there have been some embellishments in the annals. All that matters is that history has dubbed me a monster. This much is true, for I have committed many atrocities during my first reign."

"And you now seek to make those things right?" Starlight guessed.

"Neigh. Blood does not wash away blood. It only creates a bigger stain."

"Then, why are you doing what you claim to be doing - what with the 'wave of justice washing upon the shore of whatever' speech you just gave me?"

"It is as I told you," Sombra declared, his eyes burning with conviction, "Because, I can. And so, I shall."

Starlight Glimmer balked at the statement. "And what's brought this on?" she inquired, trying not to ler her skepticism come off as sarcasm.

The King Cocked a vexed eyebrow. "Your cynicism has been noted, but I must implore you to elaborate."

"Forgive me for using such subjective terminology, but you claim to be a bad guy. Or, that you were a bad guy. But, now you're not? What is it that caused such a dramatic change in you?" If you really have changed, Starlight thought, ultimately electing to keep that last part of her inquiry in the back of her mind.

Sombra hesitated to answer. The pause further stimulated Starlight's curiosity.

"I have had a thousand years to reflect upon my actions," The King finally said. "When left alone with nothing but your thoughts for such an unprecedented amount of time, one can't help but think of what could have been. 'Hindsight is twenty twenty,' I believe is how the proverb is worded."

Starlight was unsatisfied by the answer, but she didn't dare pry. She had already pissed him off twice.

"I must commend you for your stall tactics," said The King. "Have you thought of an alternate to my ultimatum yet, or would you like more time?"

Starlight attempted to look bemused by the statement. Had she really been so transparent?

"You think me a fool? If you want time to consider my offer, then you may have it. But know this, I am not known for my patience. I expect an answer from you within three days time. Until then, you are to be my ward. I'll agree to house you as if you were my guest, but the slightest act of insolence will result in a rather uncomfortable downgrade to your accommodations."

"Three days," Starlight agreed. She was smart. She should be able to think of some way out of her predicament by then. She refused to be Sombra's lackey. And condemning her friends to a lifetime of imprisonment was out of the question. This was a situation she couldn't just fight or force her way out of. She would be giving Sombra a reason to kill her, as he would then be within his legal rights to do so without fearing backlash from Celestia. Sombra's political pull in the situation gave him the advantage, and that was what made Starlight Glimmer's conundrum all the more tricky.

"Would you like to see that friend you came to 'rescue?'" Sombra offered. He seemed sincere enough, but he inserted as much sarcasm as he could muster when he used the word 'rescue.'

Shocked, Starlight was pulled from her thoughts. "I thought you said she was busy 'fulfilling her obligations to her people.'

Sombra looked to the window. It was starting to get dark outside. "She is, but I've said what needed to be said. She does not yet know that you've awakened. She will be pleased to see you. I see no reason in forestalling your reunion."

He's going to try to win me over, Starlight realized. The King was switching up his tactic. Instead of threatening her, he was giving her what she wanted in order to convince her that he wasn't the twisted piece of shit she knew he was deep down. She would not allow herself to be fooled however, for Sombra was a creature that resonated evil from every pore. But still, she had to admit that she was eager to see Flutershy.

Starlight Glimmer, steeling herself, tipped the rim of her glass against her lips and finished what was left of the wine.

The Crow And The Dove

Author's Note

I'm not a lyricist, but seven hells, I tried :facehoof:

The Crow And The Dove

Starlight Glimmer noted the attitudes of the manse residents she and The King passed by in the dreary corridors. Every head would bow as they offered pleasantries and joyous smiles. Soldiers and guards would offer salutes, their right frontal hooves clapping passionately over their chest plates as they lowered their muzzles, which was accompanied by a resounding 'Hail!' It was a greeting Sombra never failed to return. No matter how many times he was forced to do it, he repeated the gesture with the same dutiful eagerness as if it was his first.

Starlight did not receive the same courtesy, however. The few who would bother to acknowledge her would do so with suspicious looks and disdainful grimaces. It's nice to feel loved she thought as she followed Sombra through a door that brought her to the manse's foyer.

The thick rush that covered the stairs muffled the sounds of their hooves as they descended. Starlight realized that they were approaching the massive double doors that opened to the courtyard. "I thought you were taking me to see Fluttershy."

"I am," said The King. And that was all he said. He had become noticeably less talkative since their meal together. Terse, even.

Starlight Glimmer was growing tired of Sombra's vague responses. She had anticipated that she was being taken to a throne room, or something of the like. Not the frozen barren of fog and snow that was the courtyard, which wound around to the garden where their skirmish had taken place half a year ago.

There were a few maids and servants going about their duties in the area between the precipice of the stairs and the double doors. And, as always, they regarded their king with smiles and greetings and other ass-kisseries with an alacrity that made Starlight Glimmer nauseous.

"Lemmings," she scoffed indignantly under her breath.

Sombra admonished her with a look of disapproval.

Great, she thought. On top of all the other feats of super equine ability Sombra possessed, he was assumably capable of heightened hearing. That skill no doubt came in handy for detecting seditious plots and treasonous whispers. She would have to cross off 'Inciting a mutiny' from her list of plans on how she would get herself out of the mess in which she had found herself.

Not that a mutiny, no matter how successful, would do her any good. Sombra was presumably the only one with the knowledge of how to make the anti-potion that would rouse her friends from their otherwise permanent sleep. Every plot she could have devised against him was ultimately dashed by that fact; she was essentially being plowed from every conceivable angle.

The King hooked a hoof around a large iron ring hanging from one of the the doors and gave it a pull. It swooped open on well-oiled hinges, and the cold came rushing in to meet them. Sombra promptly shut the massive slab of oak after Starlight had followed him outside.

It wasn't until she was looking back from the courtyard when she had realized just how much the manse had expanded. She was no architect, but she could see that it had had several stories added to it. Its length as well had been enhanced to the point where its surrounding gates must have been extended in order to accommodate the swelling property line.

She had to crane her neck to look up at the rampart connecting the parapets that now lined the roof. It wasn't exactly Canterlot Castle, but it was officially too large to be considered a manse.

"Do you like my palace?" Sombra asked her. "The battlements were only recently finished. Soon they'll be lined with cannons and others varieties of heavy long distance weaponry."

Starlight Glimmer tore her eyes away from the palace to face King Sombra. "Why would you need those?"

"To destroy siege engines."

"Is that even necessary? Ragtag rogues aren't typically equipped for siegecraft," replied Starlight Glimmer, unable to remember a time when she had heard of a bandit using a trebuchet or a ballista.

stone-faced, Sombra replied with, "I'd rather have them and not need them than need them and not have them."

Starlight pensively stroked the back of her head with a hoof. "Good point, I guess." It pained her to agree with the likes of Sombra, but she had to concede that he had a point. She turned to give the palace one last look before falling in beside The King.

A pair of guards opened the heavy iron gates for them as they approached. They bowed their heads wordlessly as Sombra and Starlight walked passed them.

Dusk had bruised the sky a deep purple as The King led her on. The night sentries patrolling the small town, lantern-wielding figures clad in cloak and armor, were making their rounds lighting oil lamps hanging from posts throughout the streets.

The way the cottages and cabins had been constructed along the sides of the cobblestone-paved roads had given the town a rustic aesthetic. The wind rolling off the snow-capped mountains in ghostly wisps whistled pleasantly through the eaves of the abodes' roofs, while columns of grey smoke drifted lazily from their respective chimneys.

The ponies and creatures of other species that happened to be out and about in the young hours of dusk's transition to twilight regarded their king in a similar fashion to those that lived in the castle, paving the path he strode with compliments and greetings.

The reception Starlight received varied somewhat. There were those who regarded her with looks of unfamiliarity before they would start whispering to one another. And there were those, who may have been in the know, who cast looks of unease or antipathy down upon her from the windows of their homes. It wouldn't be long before word got out through the town as to who she was and what she had done, and those scornful sneers would undoubtedly be as common as they had been in the palace.

"They really hate me," Starlight commented, half surprised that charred, blackened holes weren't being burned into her from all the glares.

"You're not hated nearly as much as I am," Sombra offered. "Take that for whatever solace it may bring you."

"You're hated for a damn good reason, I would say," Starlight said defensively. "I, on the other hoof, haven't done anything to your citizens, or subjects, or whatever you call them."

Sombra kept his eyes forward. "You tried to kill their king."

"King of what, genocide?" Starlight said, remembering the corpses back at the keep she and her friends had stumbled upon.

Sombra didn't reply to that. There was just cold, bitter silence. The wind picked up slightly. The snow sloshed and crunched audibly under their hooves as they walked, leaving a trail of hard packed ice between the cracks of the stone-paved road.

Starlight Glimmer chewed at her lip. That perhaps was not the best thing to say to someone who held the lives of her friends in his hooves. "Look, I, uh... I didn't mean that," she insisted, speculating that she may have arrived at Sombra's threshold, where he would be ready to stop dishing out threats and start making good on them.

Sombra, again, did not reply. He just kept his eyes forward, his face an unreadable mask.

The rows of homesteads and households eventually gave way to a circular plaza. There were fewer buildings out here, namely a blacksmith, a tailor, a couple of small shops, some fruit and vegetable stands, an inn, and a tavern with a big sign above the door that read: 'The Prancing Pegasus.'

Cheering, laughter, and lively banter emanated from the inside of the tavern, the plaza outside lit with the golden firelight that radiated from its windows.

"Is this where Fluttershy is?" Starlight Glimmer said incredulously. "A tavern?"

"Aye," Sombra replied.

"I thought you said she was fulfilling her obligations to her people. How is she doing that from a tavern?"

Sombra made for the entrance. "You will see."

Starlight Glimmer had so many questions. More questions than she could count. More than she could put into words.

"Come," Sombra beckoned her, pushing open the door. "Witness my bride in her regality."

Baffled beyond baffled, Starlight Glimmer followed him inside.

Entering, the first thing that caught her eye was a blue, velvety curtain drawn over what must have been a small stage at the head of the tavern, from which she suspected mummers and singers and performers of other arts could entertain the patrons.

The center of every table was adorned with a lit candle. A chandelier blazed away with hundreds of little flames overhead. All the bodies and fire gave the place some much needed heat. Starlight felt relieved to get out of the cold. The night air was beginning to render the peninsula climate unbearable.

It didn't take long for Sombra's presence to be noticed. Patrons shot up from their seats to offer a startled bow or salute. Those who were too deep in their cups to notice were sharply nudged or jabbed by their mates, who immediately followed suit when their eyes were conducted to whom it was that darkened the doorway.

"I'll have none of that this night," The King demanded in a tone that was stern, yet somehow soft. "Go back to your merrymaking. If you must pretend that I am not here in order to do so, then do it."

And so they did, after a few uneasy moments of exchanging nervous murmurs and glances with one another.

Starlight Glimmer watched as a young mare clad in a rough spun apron rushed forward to meet them. She greeted The King with an enthusiasm that bordered on the neurotic. "My king, you honor The Prancing Pegasus with your presence! What can I do for you?"

"A table," Sombra said succinctly. "Preferably with a good view of the stage. And a flagon of your finest ale."

"Of course, your grace." The mare turned and led them toward the table nearest the stage, which a young couple was occupying. "You two," she addressed them, "your king and his guest require this table. Up, up!"

The couple took one look at Sombra and made no hesitation to abandon their food and cups.

"That will not be necessary," Sombra told them. "There's more than enough room for all of us, I think." He then took a seat and gestured for the couple to do the same, which thrilled them to no end.

"My king, this is such an honor!" said the stallion from across the table.

The King, with a gracious dip of his head, said, "Likewise."

The young couple traded ecstatic smiles that made them look as if they had been starstruck.

Starlight Glimmer rolled her eyes. She was getting oh so tired of the ass kissing. The ale could not come fast enough.

When the flagon came, and two mugs were set before them, Sombra reached into the folds of his cape and drew a fine red velvet sack that was cinched at the top with a golden drawstring.

The waitress laughed amiably. "Your grace, anything you order is on the house. Please, put your purse away."

Sombra placed eight shining golden coins on the table. Starlight glimpsed them curiously. They were not Equestrian bits. They shimmered brightly with a depiction of what looked like a mongoose adorned in a laurel crown. It had a dead snake limply hanging from its mouth, its chest proudly puffed out, its head turned majestically in a melodramatic pose of triumph.

"You're running a business, not a charity," Sombra said with a mild temper. "Take it."

"My King. I-I couldn't. It's far too much."

"You can and you will." And with that, The King dismissed her with a curt wave that dictated their short argument had arrived at its end.

"You... You are too kind, your grace." Lowering her head, the tavern girl nervously swept up the coins and retreated.

"Why do you have a mongoose on your currency?" Starlight Glimmer had to know.

"The Queen's idea," Sombra said as he filled his mug with the thick amber liquid from the flagon. "Puts the damn things on everything nowadays. I had to step in to keep her from using one as our royal sigil."

"A mongoose can be a fearsome creature, my king," offered the stallion across the table.

Then his girlfriend chimed in. "I think they're cute."

The King silenced her with an annoyed glance.

Starlight glimmer took a deep draught from her mug to hide her smirk. She wiped the foam from her mouth and regarded the beer with approval. It had a smooth honeyed, nutty flavor to it that was rather agreeable to her palate. "This is good."

"It is," Sombra agreed. And Starlight Glimmer was inclined to believe him, because he was already refilling his mug. "It's no blood moon, but it'll do."

"Blood moon?" Starlight was beginning to say, but she was suddenly distracted by the sound of a stringed instrument. It was coming from behind the curtain. Her ears twitched as she strained her senses. The instrument in question went from a strident wine to a dull moan, as if its unseen player was testing the strings. Starlight turned to Sombra and asked, "Is there some kind of performance going on tonight?"

The King smiled impishly into his cup as he gave her a curt, "Indeed."

"The curtain," the mare across the table said, then scooted her seat closer to her lover.

The stallion smiled, placed his arm around her, then relaxed back in his chair. "I wonder what song our queen will be singing for us this week. Crossing hooves for The Bear and The Maiden Mare."

"Do you ever get sick of that silly song?" His girlfriend giggled.

"No, I don't."

Fluttershy can't sing in front of an audience, Starlight reflected. She could sing like no other, that much was true. But the Fluttershy she knew was an utter and absolute coward at her very worst. Excruciatingly awkward and timid at her best.

Curious, Starlight swiveled around on her seat to face the stage. The curtain was indeed opening.

The lively banter in the tavern dwindled to whispers and incoherent murmurs until that too faded to silence.

A blue-eyed mare with a swollen belly stepped forward. An ornate silver crown rested atop her brow, and a blue cape flowed down her sides like twin waterfalls of shimmering satin. To her left was a stallion with a lute, and to her right was a mare with a cello.

Starlight took a ponderous sip of her ale as she studied them. But then the dawn broke as something registered in her mind. She gagged on her beer in mid swallow, coughing it back up into her mug. "Flutter....shy!" She managed through her violent coughing fit.

"Starlight?" said Fluttershy from the stage, in a clear voice that was unmistakably hers. "You're awake!"

"I...I am, but... But you. You're.... You're..." Words failed on Starlight as she gawked in disbelief at the bulge in Fluttershy's belly. Her eyes narrowed accusingly toward Sombra. You cad! She wanted to say it. She was certainly thinking it. But the words would not come.

The King was all smiles. "She's the very vision of beauty, is she not?"

Fluttershy's eyes went to her king, then went to Starlight. It was obvious from her expression that she was nonplussed. Though, after a time, The Queen, resplendent and every bit as regal as The King described, smiled at her prettily.

Starlight Glimmer didn't return the smile, however. She was too captivated by the sight of Fluttershy's bulging belly.

The Queen raised her gaze to address the crowd. "Tonight I was going to sing The Reigns of Castamare. But, we have a special guest in our audience tonight. There is a special song I think she would like to hear." She smiled down at Starlight Glimmer from the stage. "The Crow and The Dove."

The Queen's announcement elected a chorus of whistles and cheers.

"The Crow and The Dove?" Starlight mused.

Fluttershy turned and nodded to her musicians. Gracefully, the mare with the cello smiled before she deposited her instrument on a nearby rack and took her leave. Not long after she entered the tavern through a side door to join the audience. The lute player left the stage as well, but he returned with a violin.

Starlight Glimmer listened in curiously as the violin started. Slow and forlorn the melody was. And for a while it was the only sound in the tavern.

Poised, Fluttershy waited for her cue, and then she began:

"A young crow lost, bereft of his murder.
Shunned and hated, then berated by those you thought loved you.
Black wings beating against the winter gales, struggling for the strength to go on - to go on.

Tell me brave crow, has your heart frozen over?
A soul twisted, tangled, and then mangled by the unrelenting storms.

Let me help you brave these foul tempests. Lay yourself bare for me to see.
Embrace me, show me, love me, hold me - make my heart sing.
Ivory wings that soar through skies so clear - they give you the strength to go on - to go on."

The song remained slow with a sweet sort of melancholy.

Starlight turned to gauge Sombra's reaction. His expression remained an illegible mask. He just sat back in his chair with his eyes closed, as if he wasn't simply listening to the song, but was feeling it.

Starlight Glimmer wasn't a fool. She was taking the songs meanings, even though there were some parts she didn't quite understand. She would have been lying to herself if she were to deny that the song made her feel something. Indeed she felt sorry for the crow in the song. But when she looked at Sombra, she was hard pressed to feel anything for him but disdain.

The song drew on about a metaphorical storm, and a dove that longed for her home. But in the end, the two birds who fell in love had braved the harsh gales, and together they set forward to a place where the skies were forever blue and clear, a place where they could live happily ever after.

The violin playing slowed until it came to a stop, and over the quite of the ceasing melody the final verse was repeated:

"And through clear skies two birds did fly on black and ivory wings.
And through clear skies two birds did fly on black and ivory wings."

Fluttershy bowed her head as gracefully as a pregnant mare could and said to everyone, "Thank you."

The patrons applauded, some of them with tears in their eyes. Near the entrance of the tavern stood a cluster of passers by who decided to stop and listen when they heard the singing.

Sombra, amongst the cheering, stood from his seat and approached the stage. He extended a beckoning hoof toward his bride, who approached him and lowered herself down to give him a long, intimate kiss for all to see.

The cheering of the tavern patrons intensified with a couple 'aww's thrown in.

Seeing them kiss was a shock to Starlight Glimmer's system. She thought about the others laying comatose in the bowels of Sombra's palace, the keep she had found filled with mangled corpses, the innumerable historical accounts of murder and madness. Sombra had done so many horrible, evil, monstrous things... And there Fluttershy was, carrying his child, singing songs about him, kissing him before a cheering throng of sycophantic mouth-breathers like a horny teenager. It was more than she could bear.

She slammed the tavern door behind her at such a force, a sheet of snow fell free from its roof like a miniature avalanche. She didn't know where she was going, she just knew that she needed some fresh air before she did or said something she'd regret. She heard the squeaky hinges of the tavern's door behind her, and she knew she was being pursued.

"How dare you!" Sombra's voice bellowed after her. "You spend all this time pleading with me to see her, then you just walk out on her without saying a word?"

"She's not the Fluttershy I once knew." Starlight Glimmer whirled around to meet him. "The Fluttershy I knew would never love a demon like you!"

"Then, perhaps you never knew her."

The rancor elicited by Sombra's accusation was a verbal dagger through her chest. Starlight felt a sting in her eyes, and she knew she was crying. She let out a frustrated scream as she whirled around and began to stomp away.

"Pray, where do you think you're going?"

"Tartarus take you!"

"Need I remind you that you are my prisoner?"

Starlight refused to respond. She was done with words. Done with him.

"Cease your retreat!" Sombra demanded. "This is your final warning."

"Make me!" Starlight challenged him in her blind fury, which wasn't the wisest thing to say, she would immediately learn.

She could hear heavy hooves crushing the snow behind her at a startling pace. Two guards who must have overheard the commotion were flanking her from both sides, but Sombra got to her before they could. She felt a thick, muscular forearm whip around her midsection. The ground fell away from her. The next thing she knew, she was looking up at sky, and then all the air in her lungs was driven out as her back hit the ground.

Gasping, Starlight fought to catch her breath. More sentries from Sombra's night guard came into view as they fell in beside him. She made an attempt to get up, but The King kept her pinned effortlessly under his massive hoof. "I could put my weight on you; that's all it would take," he said, his voice low and dark.

And Starlight Glimmer knew he would do it. Their eyes met briefly before she finally looked away, sobbing shamefully in her helplessness. She shut her eyes as tightly as she could to keep the tears back, but it was useless. They ran freely down her cheek, intermingling with the snow below her as they fell.

One of the guards unsheathed a hidden dagger from under his gauntlet. "No need to sully your hooves, your majesty. Give the word, and I'll give her a red smile."

"Stop!" A familiar, high voice commanded.

The guards looked startled.

"You're members of the royal guard, not bullies!" Admonished the voice. "Have you no shame?"

Starlight Glimmer lifted her head. Fluttershy was striding toward them at a furious pace.

"My queen," the guard with the dagger said, "I'm only doing my duty."

"Your duty is to intimidate and harass a defenseless mare? And what's this talk of a red smile? Are you no better than the savages who prey our borders?"

The guard mooned sheepishly at his dagger before he returned it to the hidden compartment beneath his gauntlet. "A thousand apologies, my queen."

"Back to your posts, the lot of you."

"The guards looked to Sombra like children hoping to have their mother's authority circumvented."

Fluttershy grabbed 'Mr. Redsmile' by the rim of his helm and forced his eyes to meet with hers. "Don't look at him, look at me. Return to your post, and not another word, or I'll have payroll give your salaries a red smile!"

The guards traded chagrined looks as they bowed, then they sullenly withdrew like pups with their tails between their legs.

"You're doing it again!" Sombra said. "You're subverting my authority. Need I remind you that I am The King?"

"You are The King," Fluttershy agreed. "But you're behaving like a brute. How many times have you promised me you'd stop acting out of anger?"

Sombra was about to say something, but Fluttershy spoke over him. "More times than you or I can count. Remember the griffon boy?"

"How many times are you going to bring that up?" Sombra groused. He removed his hoof from Starlight Glimmer's chest to confront her.

Fluttershy's demeanor, however, was unflinching. The only part of her that moved was her head, when she looked up at him. "As many times as it takes for you to understand the lesson you claim to have learned! Honestly, sometimes I feel as if I'm married to a boar."

Sombra was becoming visually irritated. "This is different," he shot back. "I warned her."

"No, you threatened her. I heard the whole thing."

"It was a warning! I worded it as such: Cease your retreat. This. Is. Your. Final. Warning. I wish your hearing was as prevalent as your impertinence."

"It wasn't what you said, it was the way you said it. Can you even hear yourself when you talk? It's no wonder babies cry around you so much."

Starlight Glimmer, the streams of tears already drying into darkened lines on her face, goggled at the spectacle. Fluttershy was bitching out Sombra. She would never have believed it if she wasn't witnessing it for herself.

"You're one to talk about one having more commitment toward their duty. Which reminds me, don't you have some scouting to do with your rangers?" Fluttershy was saying, after the topic of their argument had shifted for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"The rangers know the routes well enough to scout without me for one night."

"So, you're not going with them?"

"I have more pressing matters to attend to." Sombra gestured to Starlight Glimmer.

Fluttershy gave Starlight a thoughtful look. "No, you don't. Keeping our borders safe takes priority over all else."

"And what shall I do with the prisoner who so openly defied and insulted me? Leave her in your charge, so you two can wax nostalgic over tea and scones?"

"I will show her to her quarters in the palace."

Sombra narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "By 'quarters' I'm guessing you mean a suite in the diplomat's wing."

"Is that a problem?"

"She belongs in the dungeon."

"I'd rather her have a comfortable room with a warm hearth and a soft bed," Fluttershy disagreed.

"I would sooner see her in the dungeon." Sombra was glaring, but there was the slightest hint of acquiescence in his eyes. "No doubt you'd sidestep my orders and have her released without me there to say anything about it."

Fluttershy shook her head, and replied with bold honesty, "I would release her regardless of your ability to say anything about it."

"Damn you," The King cursed in the form of a defeated sigh. "Do as you will, then. But she's not to leave the palace. And mind what you divulge to her."

Fluttershy smiled at him cutely, and when Starlight Glimmer saw that smile, she regretted her words about her not being the Fluttershy she knew. It was only a half truth, in fact. This new Fluttershy standing before her was a queen in every since of the word. Yet, the sweet mare she knew and loved was still there. She could see it now - in that smile of hers.

Sombra gave his queen a few more instructions on how she should conduct 'the prisoner,' but the look on Fluttershy's face betrayed that she intended to disregard them. And after that, with an expression of slight annoyance on his face, Sombra turned on his heels and made for the garrison.

"My King," Fluttershy called out to him.

Sombra stopped in his tracks, but he didn't look back her. "What?"

His queen smiled the sweetest of smiles. "Try not to stay out too late. I already miss you." She looked down and caressed the swell of her belly. "The baby misses you too."

Fluttershy's words seemed to placate him somewhat. The King feigned an irritated sigh. "Aye," he said, keeping his eyes forward. And then he was off.

Fluttershy smiled assuringly at Starlight as she offered her a hoof. "He'll be in a better mood by the time he gets back. He may even apologize."

Starlight beheld her in wonderment as she accepted the help, and when she was assisted to her hooves, The Queen hugged her fiercely and said, "I missed you so much!"

"I..." A lump began to form in Starlight's throat. "I missed you too," she whispered, a fresh barrage of tears breaking free as she returned the embrace.

A Rift Between Friends

Starlight Glimmer's quarters was a decadent suite - even more so than she could have anticipated. Inside her room one could not look in any direction without noticing lavish tapestries or gothic paintings of fabled knights, medieval structures, and skilfully detailed depictions of moonlit beaches or lush, green vistas with rolling landscapes. Much to her surprise, there was even a painting of the divine sisters. It was half a twilight sky, the moon glowing vividly among the stars. The other Half was a cloudy azure sky, the sun burning brightly in the background to illuminate the world. Celestia and Luna were depicted in the foreground, their backs against each other with their wings majestically unfurled. It was titled "Nocturnas En Solaria." Among the finery in her room, It was easily Starlight Glimmer's favorite piece.

The wind howled outside as she sipped the hot, sweet liquid from her cup. Her glance kept finding its way to the glass pane across her room, through which she observed the translucent clouds glowing like tufts of platinum in the moon's light. There were a few breaks in the overcast that would allow its rays to crown the mountains in a silvery glow. It boggled the mind how such a savage, war torn land could possess such haunting beauty.

"Do you like it?" The Queen asked her. She was rested in a heavily cushioned chair opposite her in front of the hearth. The soft, thick rush beneath them seemed to drink in the heat from the flames as It radiated with warmth.

"I do," Starlight said, looking quizzically into the flower resting at the bottom of her cup. The tea was naturally sweet. So much so that sugar nor honey was needed to improve its flavor. "Although, I'm not quite familiar with this blend."

Fluttershy dropped a flower bulb into a cup of hot water. After sinking to the bottom the bulb opened up like a rose in bloom, and the liquid began to change color. "It's honey jasmine," she said. "The flora in this region make for the most exquisite teas I've ever had. The doctor says jasmine is good for the baby, so I have it with every meal."

Starlight, for the thousand-thousandth time since they had sat down together, stole a glance at the swell in Fluttershy's belly. Her friend was with foal. Sombra's foal. It was still difficult for her to take in.

"Just think." The Queen caressed her belly with an affectionately sweet smile on her face. She seemed to radiate with joy every time she did that. "A little prince or princess. I'll bet he or she will get along great with Flurry Heart. Speaking of which, how is the little princess?"

"Flurry Heart?" Starlight Glimmer stirred uneasily in her seat. "She was her usual giggling, smiling, bouncing little self last time I saw her."

"That's good to hear." Fluttershy smiled. "My baby is going to need a playmate when we visit the Crystal Empire. I'm hoping they'll get along."

"When you visit?" Starlight looked thoughtfully into the flower at the bottom of her cup. "Does that mean you'll be coming back home any time soon?"

"Oh, without a doubt," Fluttershy assured her. "I still have my cottage back in Ponyville. I may be The Queen of New Haven, but South Equestria is my home too. I plan to make long and frequent visits."

Starlight Glimmer traced the rim of her cup. "That's good to know... And I'm sure your parents will be looking forward to meeting your, uh, husband," she said, practically choking out the word from her throat. She still had trouble referring to Sombra as Fluttershy's husband. The word just had such a strange flavor to it.

Fluttershy giggled. "My husband is very much looking forward to meeting his new mother and father. Zephyr will no doubt consider himself royalty after meeting his new brother-in-law. I can already see him asking Rainbow Dash to be his queen."

"Zephyr would no doubt use some cheeky pick up line that would get him smacked," Starlight replied, smirking as she poorly imitated the voice of Fluttershy's brother. "Something along the lines of: 'Hey Dashie, are you sure you don't have some royalty in you?' And upon her obvious reply, he'd be like, 'Would you like to?'"

At that, Fluttershy snorted and covered her mouth in a vain attempt to keep herself from spitting out her tea.

Starlight Glimmer joined in on the mirth, but only for a time. As much as she tried to lighten the mood there was still the predicament that loomed over her. Three days, Sombra had told her. Imprisonment, or servitude. Both choices were bitter draughts to swallow. If the choice didn't concern her friends, she'd gladly take imprisonment. The other choice was no better, casting her allegiance to Sombra, who would undoubtedly force her to commit his atrocities for him.

The laughter in Fluttershy's expression died when she must have noticed Starlight's distress. "Starlight, are you well? Was it something I said?"

"No, you didn't say anything, it's just..." Starlight turned her head to gaze out the window. "I don't see how you can be so calm. You seem to be happy to rule along side Sombra, and you even seem happy about having his baby, but what about the others? You claim that everything will be alright, but what does that mean? Why are you so sure?"

And what she said was true. She had wasted no time in making Fluttershy aware of her plight, but The Queen was quick to smile and promise that everything would be okay. What that meant, Starlight Glimmer could not be sure, but she had a feeling that she was about to find out.

"Starlight," Fluttershy began, "I told you, everything is going to be fine. Sombra wouldn't dare keep you and the others here for the rest of your lives. I know when my husband is bluffing, and trust me, this is a bluff if I've ever heard one."

"How can you be so sure?" Starlight said, unconvinced. "What if you're wrong?"

"Because, he has everything to lose and nothing to gain if he kept you all here," Fluttershy said knowingly. "I guarantee you, Celestia won't stand for it. If push comes to shove, she'll cut off her trade with us for the remainder of the time Sombra decides to keep Twilight Sparkle as his prisoner. Sombra knows he'd be dooming the nation he's worked so hard to build if this should come to pass. Down south, they can survive without our precious minerals, but up here, our land is barren; it's almost impossible to grow food. We'd last a few months at best. And keep in mind, nothing provokes unrest and revolt like a famine. I know my husband better than anyone else, and trust me, he wouldn't dare risk it."

Starlight hadn't thought about that. She had heard something about a trade route being established between New Haven and Equestria. She gave the blithe queen a suspicious look. "Fluttershy, you almost sound like you've planned this all out."

Fluttershy's smile was almost impish. "My husband would not have agreed to the signing of the DIS unless he believed he was being granted the upper hoof in the dealings. He truly believed at the time when he signed it that he had the advantage in being allowed to keep Twilight Sparkle as his prisoner. Celestia may not be able to take hostile action against us, but that won't keep her from doing whatever she can to get her pupil back, which would include cutting us off from trade. An embargo would hit us hard - Celestia and Sombra both know it. I've thought about this a lot, and I'm certain it will be the first course of action Celestia takes - that is, as soon as she's ready to start applying pressure to the negotiation table."

Starlight Glimmer did not fall short of awe in light of Fluttershy's reasoning. "But what if you're wrong? What if Sombra's intractability proves stronger than his will to reason?"

Fluttershy sighed. "If I'm wrong, then I've greatly underestimated my husband's pride, just as I've overestimated his wisdom. If it should come to that, and our people should go hungry because of his stubbornness, then I shall go hungry too. If that doesn't sway him, nothing will. He'll be angry with me for a time, for the blow I've struck his pride. He may even stop talking to me for a while, but he'll come around. He always does. My hubby is quick to anger, but, believe it or not, he's also quick to forgive. Especially when it comes to me."

Starlight Glimmer could feel hope and doubt battling for domination of her emotions. "Because he loves you?" she heard herself say.

Fluttershy nodded. "And I love him. But I also love my friends. I refuse to sit by and allow Celestia and Sombra to let their argument come to blows. I also refuse to just let my husband hold you captive for the rest of your lives. There's been no saber rattling from either side since the document was signed. That's why I wrote the DIS. All the pieces of my plan seem to be falling into place."

"Are you absolutely sure about that?" Starlight said hopefully.

"Well, yes... But I hadn't expected you to awaken before the others, and I honestly knew nothing of the ultimatum my husband planned on presenting to you. Honestly, he hasn't said a word to me about it."

"Yeah, well, here I am, awake and unbroken, and here we are," Starlight offered sullenly. "He assured me that my fate, and the fate of the rest of our friends depend on my decision."

Fluttershy poured herself another cup of hot water from the kettle. She sat back in her seat with a thoughtful look, took a sip, and suggested, "Well... If you'd like to help speed up my plan to save our friends, why don't you take him up on his offer?"

Starlight almost dropped her cup in her astonishment. "Excuse me?"

"Why not?" Fluttershy said. "There's a lot of good you could do up here. And it would be really nice to have a friend to talk to who's not bowing and apologizing to me every five seconds."

"Fluttershy, come on. You know I can't do that."

"Why not?" Fluttershy persisted.

"Fluttershy, I'm not a killer, and I won't be subservient to one. I can only think of the horrors that monster would subject me to."

"That's my husband you're talking about," Fluttershy said, it a tone that one could almost interpret as cautioning. "Look back at your own past before you cast your stones. You've no right to judge him."

"Why do you defend him so fervently? Have you even read The Darkness Rising? I'll lend you my copy if you haven't-

"Don't you dare quote a single passage from that book in my presence!"

Starlight Glimmer fell silent under The Queen's fury. Fierce and sudden like a maelstrom, it was.

"Do you really believe a single thing that book says? C'mon, you're smarter than that. Do you honestly believe Sombra is the bastard child of some incubus, that he sustains himself on virgin blood and the flesh of equine fetuses ripped fresh from the wombs of his own subjects? The very pages of that slanderous piece of filth wouldn't be suitable for toilet paper."

"Look, I only know the facts," Starlight Glimmer said carefully. "That he's capable of horrible things. I've seen the atrocities he's committed with my own eyes, Fluttershy. Atrocities that you've obviously closed your eyes to."

Fluttershy regarded her with curious suspicion. "What are you talking about?"

"A keep, approximately five Kilometers South, South-east of here. Twilight, the others and I, we stumbled upon it. Dead bodies everywhere, strewn and eviscerated, the walls practically painted with blood. Couldn't walk anywhere without stepping in red snow. Inside and out was like a forest of pikes with heads mounted on them. I couldn't look in any direction without seeing bodies swaying from the ends of hempen ropes. There was no denying that it was Sombra's doing. The place was saturated with his arcane essence."

"A Keep?" Fluttershy said thoughtfully. "South, South-east of this location... You're not talking about that bandit keep, are you?"

Starlight Glimmer blinked. "Bandit keep?"

"That keep belonged to a group of bandits. They attempted to pillage the palace for slaves and plunder, but Sombra fought them off. After that he managed to track down their hold to prevent the possibility of a second raid."

"They were bandits?" Starlight Glimmer said. "You're saying Sombra just besieged their stronghold? What if there had been innocents among them?"

"There were," Fluttershy insisted. "There were dozens of slaves. Sombra brought them back to the palace to feed them and give them new lives. Most of those whom he had rescued that day are now part of the palace staff. You must have come across some of them."

Starlight Glimmer thought back to everyone she had passed by in the halls when she was in Sombra's company, those who had greeted The King with bows and smiles and salutes. She scratched her chin pensively as she remembered the words of the guard who had escorted her to the spa, who had informed her that the majority of the town's citizenry were former slaves and refugees. "The maids, the stewards, the guards... Sombra really rescued them all?"

"Yes, and the ones that were not rescued came flocking to him with their families for protection when word of his campaign fanned out across the land," Fluttershy replied. "They now have consistent work for the first time in their lives, or own thriving businesses, or have signed on to fight in his name."

"But, how many have had to die in this conquest of his? What I saw back at that keep was--

"I just told you, they were--

"Bandits. Yes. I get it, you were attacked first, but, still..."

"Still what?" said Fluttershy, tapping the arm of her chair as she impatiently awaited a reply.

"Still, I..." Starlight Glimmer attempted, but could not think of what it was she wanted to say. "I don't know. This is all so unreal. Fighting to defend yourself and the ones you love is one thing, but Sombra has taken this to a whole nother level, don't you think?"

"Do you know how many slaves my husband and I have freed?" Fluttershy said. "Do you have any idea how many lives we've changed together?"

"But what about the lives you've ended?"

"I don't think you understand, Starlight. We're at war with these brutes. Do you know what war is?"

Starlight was about to speak, but Fluttershy spoke over her. "War is ugly. There is no painter or poet on this planet that can portray war as a beautiful thing. However, it is necessary when you are fighting for the right cause. If you could hear the things I've heard, or see the things I've seen, you would understand."

Starlight balked at her. "Are you honestly trying to convince me that this war is justifiable? That any war is justifiable?"

Fluttershy relaxed back in her seat and steepled her hooves at the edge of her muzzle in a way that eerily reminded Starlight Glimmer of King Sombra. "Try to imagine families being forcibly separated, hapless young mares paraded out in front of a throng of stallions for their innocents to be sold to the highest bidder. Imagine squalling, terrified children being wrenched from their wailing mother's arms to be sold at an auction. Imagine a business owner having everything he has ever worked for taken from him at the point of a brigand's blade. Imagine young kids, no older than Sweetie Belle or Apple Bloom, being forced to fight each other to the death in an arena for nothing more than the amusement of a bloodthirsty mob." The Queen then ended with, "Now, ask me again if I can justify this war."

"Fluttershy," Starlight said pleadingly.

"Starlight, the suffering and cruelty that has gripped this land will not end on its own. Evil has thrived in this area for far too long, and so far the only one who has stood to oppose this madness is my husband."

"But at what price? That madman you call your husband has probably racked up a body count numbering in the thousands, if not tens of thousands. His methods make about as much sense as using leprosy to treat the plague."

"Do you think the insanity in his land should just be allowed to continue?"

"No, I'm not saying that."

"Are you saying we shouldn't stop it?"

"I'm saying war isn't the answer!" Starlight Glimmer finally bristled.

"And you have a better solution?" Fluttershy challenged her. "You can virtue signal from the fenceline all you want, but you're ultimately not doing anything to help anyone."

"Well, I'm sorry, but like a rational equine being I don't consider genocide to be a form of helping. Have you stopped for even a second to consider that these 'brutes' as you call them may have a reason for the things they do? I'm not trying to justify their deeds, I'm just saying that it wouldn't hurt to try and see the world through their eyes. The better you understand them, the easier it will be to help them. Would you put a starving beggar to death for stealing a loaf of bread? I mean, maybe they have families. Maybe pillaging and plundering is the only way for them to survive up here. You know better than I how barren and destitute this place is.

"What about rape, murder and slavery, are those necessities?"

"No, but neither is genocide!"

Fluttershy let her face fall into her hooves with an exasperated sigh. "You sound just like that obnoxious mare I dealt with in the feasting hall that day... Utterly, Obstinately pacifistic to a fault. You're more than happy to complain, but you fall silent when asked for a solution."

"I'm the obstinate one?" Starlight fumed. "Alright, you want a solution? I have one for you: If you want to stop the insanity racking this land with blood and violence, you need to find a way to put down that monster you call your husband." She then jabbed a hoof out toward the swell in Fluttershy's belly. "But no, instead of stopping a monster you'd rather squeeze out another one. With Sombra as the father I'm sure the little bastard will turn out to be even more of a beast than he is."

Fluttershy looked at her as if her words had physically cut her. It was a look that made Starlight Glimmer regret speaking her mind so freely, but she stood by her principals. Bandits and brigands were living beings, too. Criminals, no matter how foul, felt pain and pleasure and joy and sorrow like anyone else. Simply passing them off as 'evil' that must be exterminated was the easy solution, but understanding them and working to rehabilitate them would've been the correct path to take. The old Fluttershy... The sweet, compassionate, altruistic Fluttershy would have known that, but that clearly wasn't who she was dealing with.

Fluttershy looked flustered. She looked as if she was about to say something, but she restrained herself. Instead, she placed her hooves over her belly, closed her eyes, breathed, and said, "If you will excuse me, I think it's about time I take my leave." She climbed down from her seat and made for the door. "And please, don't bother tidying up. I'll have someone collect the cups and tray in the morning."

"Where are you going?" Starlight said to her, suddenly concerned. Watching her friend's awkward steps placated her somewhat. She wasn't sure what she felt for the pregnant mare now. Was it sympathy, remorse, disquiet? Was she going to report her rebuke to Sombra? She wouldn't do that, would she? She was still her friend, wasn't she?

"To bed," Fluttershy replied coldly. "That 'monster' I call my husband should be back from the night's first patrol pretty soon. I would like to be there to greet him when he arrives. I miss him terribly."

"And what am I to do?"

Fluttershy placed her hoof upon the door, and without looking back at her she said in a voice devoid of emotion, "Get some rest. I'll send for you when breakfast is ready."

"I'm talking about in three days. What am I going to do, what's going to happen?"

Fluttershy turned to meet her gaze. She smiled, but it wasn't the warm smile Starlight was accustomed to. It was icy with contempt, yet it burned with outrage. "I promise, by the time this is all over, all four of you will be returned home safe and sound."

"All four of us?" Starlight Glimmer said. "So, I take it to mean you've really no intention of coming back home?"

Fluttershy turned away from her. "This is my home, Starlight." And then she was gone, letting the door close softly behind her before Starlight could beckon her return.

The hours went by as Starlight's forlorn gaze would transition from her window to the fire in her hearth. She tried to sleep on the ostentatious bed in her room that Fluttershy had assigned her to. It was comfortable, warm, and larger than any bed had a right to be. Soft as the clouds themselves, it was complete with a pink mesh shroud which hung from a decorative canopy. It was the type of bed she had always dreamed of owning when she was a filly, but it offered her no comfort. Her thoughts would allow her no respite this night.

Fluttershy was the same, yet she was different. Her warm, sweet demeanor was still there, but she had seemed to have inherited her husband's bloodthirst. It was clear to her that Sombra's influence had taken hold of her.

She had read about Sombra, not only from the book that Fluttershy so despised, but from historical writs that detailed The Dark King's ability to manipulate and beguile. Starlight Glimmer was never more sure of his manipulative tendencies than when she had had dinner with him. He could be polite as well as charming, almost seductively so. When that didn't work, he seemed to be just as articulate with coercion and intimidation.

Manipulation. Fluttershy had been subject to it for half a year now. That was what changed her so drastically, of that Starlight Glimmer was certain. The thing that unsettled her the most was the manipulative tactics of Fluttershy herself. Her plan was so sly, so well thought out, she didn't know whether to be horrified or impressed. Fluttershy's plan was nothing short of manipulative, but she claimed that she was doing it to avoid a possible war with Celestia.

Why was it that a war over control of the peninsula was completely justifiable to her, but a war with Celestia wasn't...?

Because, Sombra would lose, she surmised. The combined powers of Celestia and her sister Luna would overwhelm him. They've already overthrown him once. Why don't they just do it again and get it done with?

The stipulation she and Sombra signed kept her honor-bound from doing so, she reminded herself. And furthermore, Sombra was honor-bound to allow no harm to come to any foreign prisoner, royalty or otherwise. Doing so would violate the DIS, and give Celestia the legal right and justification to attack him. That scenario would not go well in Sombra's favor.

Celestia was smarter than Sombra, as well as wiser, stronger, and she by far held more influence and political experience. The only department Sombra trumped her in was ruthlessness, yet it seemed that the only thing keeping Sombra and Celestia both in check was The Queen's plan.

"Fluttershy," Starlight whispered to herself in astonishment, "when did you become so deviously cunning?" And cunning she was, there was no denying that. But there was another attribute to her friend that made her uneasy. She closed her eyes and imagined Fluttershy standing beside her husband as he roared fiery rhetoric from a podium to a throng of impassioned citizens. Citizens that were not just ready to kill and die in their name, but were eager to do so.

Cunning, Starlight Glimmer thought again, rolling over and pulling the thick quilt up to her neck. And cruel.

The King's Table

The first thing Starlight Glimmer noticed upon opening her eyes was the indigo canopy looming above her, its mesh veil a pink web curtaining about her bed. She could not recall exactly when she had fallen asleep, but sleep she had.

She turned her head to view the window, but she could not see the sky nor the mountains through the shroud of fog that had enveloped the palace over night. It seemed to her that when the frigid quagmire that was the peninsula wasn't playing host to bone-biting blizzards, it was being swallowed by these impenetrable phantom mists.

Starlight tried to sit up, but the difficulty in doing so reminded her how enfeebled her body had become over her six months of inactivity. Unwilling to give up, she mustered what meager strength she had to crawl backwards on heels and elbows until she was sitting up against the headboard. It irked her that the act of just sitting up in bed was such a laborious task. Her road to recovery would be long and arduous, of that she had no doubt.

Redfaced, she caught her breath as she laid back against the sturdy headboard. Fluttershy said she would send for her when breakfast was ready, which she had taken to mean she was to stay put if she was to awaken before her escort arrived. She looked down at her frail, feeble body and figured she didn't have much of a say in the matter. Her muscles were soft as gelatin, and her joints felt like rusty hinges; she wasn't going anywhere without some kind of assistance.

With nothing to be done about her situation, Starlight resigned herself to just resting against her improvised oaken backrest and inspecting whatever caught her fancy. The activity was as profoundly uneventful as it sounded, but what else was she to do?

She turned her head to examine her hearth. What was once her fire was now a blackened lump of ash. It had allowed for some of the outside cold to seep back into her room. The air was chilly, but not unbearably so. She wagered that if she were to touch the hearth's sides it would still feel warm.

She mooned wistfully at a portrait of a tropical island on her wall, which seemed out of place when considering the other works of art in her room were of structures and landscapes. She had regarded it with nothing more but a passing glance the night before, but she was now finding herself gazing at it longingly, like a prisoner might when viewing a crystal clear sky through a tiny window in their cell. It looked as if the painter had captured the image from the view of a ship. The water was blue and clear as the foamy surf rolled over the shore. The sun was setting behind a cluster of silhouetted palm trees, rippling in warm shades of yellow and orange like molten gold as it sank beneath the skyline. It reminded her of the vacation with Trixie that fate had ultimately denied her. Starlight forced herself to look away before the image could further taunt her. Who hangs a portrait of a tropical island in a place like this, you sick bastards...

A sudden click on the other side of her door roused her attention. It creaked open slowly, and then half of Winter Lilac's familiar dead-eyed gaze was peering in at her. "Wakey-wakey~" she sang in an unsettlingly childish voice.

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" Starlight protested. "And why are you acting so creepy?"

"What's so creepy about little ol' me?"

"The way you're looking at me."

"Oh?" Winter Lilac, her face half concealed behind the door, grinned widely. Her expressionless eyes made her smile all the more perturbing. It was almost as if somebody had upturned the corners of a corpses' lips and stapled them that way as a grotesque prank. "Is this better?"

"It's worse!" Starlight insisted.

The apothcary's countenance dropped into its expressionless default setting. "There's just no pleasing you, is there?" She pushed the door open the rest of the way, revealing an old leather medical bag at her side. She scooped it up, clinching the handle firmly between her teeth, and she sauntered into the room.

The apothecary dropped her medical bag on the bed, undid the tiny brass latch securing it, and drew a syringe with a plastic stem safely capped over the needle. The fluid in the tube contained a familiar green luminescence.

"Is that the same stuff from yesterday?" queried Starlight, who possessed no affinity for needles. Just looking at it made her feel anxious.

"Same stuff," confirmed the apothecary.

Starlight Glimmer reluctantly surrendered her foreleg when the apothecary indicated it with a held out hoof, and she immediately went to work disinfecting the area where she would be performing the injection. After that, she tied the limb off with a strand of rubber tubing. She looked Starlight in the eye as she uncapped the needle on the syringe and advised her to relax.

Starlight Glimmer laid herself back against the headboard, not even realizing that she had been tensing up. "Let's just get it over with," she consented, looking away to the window to distract herself.

"Don't feel bad, I encounter aichmophobic patients all the time. Just breathe."

Starlight Glimmer chewed her lip in anticipation. There was a slight pinching sensation. She breathed in, then she breathed out, and then it was done. The tubing was pulled away from her arm and her veins once again became a light show of tiny neon-lit channels sprawling out under her translucent skin.

"Give it a second to dissolve into your blood stream."

"I know the drill."

"Good," said Winter Lilac, recapping and depositing the soiled syringe into a medical waste bag. "So, how do you like being an invalid?"

The inappropriate question took Starlight aback, but she was able to recover with a dry, "It's not as fun as it looks."

Winter Lilac clasped her medical bag shut and said, "When you're able to get up I'm taking you to the feasting hall. The King has invited you to break your fast with him at his high table."

"Let me guess," said Starlight with a sardonic smile, "that's supposed to be some great honor?"

"Honor?" replied the apothecary, scoffing. "I suppose you could call it that, but, to tell you the truth, I like to sit as far away from The King as possible, preferably with my back turned to him. He attacks his food like a wild beast, and when my gaze unfortunately ventures over to him while he's getting all lovey-dovey with that queen of his... I look down at my food and I just... I push my plate away."

Starlight Glimmer cracked an amused smile. She had decided that, despite the apothecary's uncongenial tendencies and her overall dearth of tact, she liked her.

"So, when do you think you're going to be ambulatory?" Winter queried impatiently. "It's pancake day in the feasting hall."

Starlight Glimmer pursed her lips at the mention of her favorite food. "Pancakes?"

"Did I stutter? Yes, pancakes," the testy mare reiterated. "All hot and steaming, covered in blueberry syrup, a layer of melted apple butter drizzling over the sides... That's how I like mine, anyway. If you're one of those ponies who prefer your pancakes dry you can just stop talking to me right now; we're not gonna be friends."

Winter's deliciously detailed description was almost enough to put Starlight Glimmer in a state of reverie.

...

"Are you gonna get up?" the apothecary snapped, after a short intermission of silence. "You make me late for breakfast on pancake day, ooh girl, there will be Tartarus to pay."

"You could be a little more sympathetic for my condition," Starlight complained.

"I'm hungry. How about you show some sympathy for mine and get up."

Ignoring the apothecary's tart remark, Starlight Glimmer scooted herself to the edge of her bed, threw one leg over the side, then the other, and lowered herself down slowly, to test her weight. Standing was difficult, but the fact that she could stand at all was proof that the stimulant was working.

"Can you walk?"

Starlight tested her strength and equilibrium with a few experimental steps. She wobbled a little as she shifted her weight from hoof to hoof, but that just may have been because she had just woken up. Those first few steps right after getting out of bed in the morning always felt awkward. "Yeah, I think I'm good."

"Great, grand, copacetic! Let's get some food, already. And I don't care how messed up your body is, I'm not letting you lean on me while we're going down that tower staircase. You try to use me as a crutch on those damnable steps, I'll use you as a slinky."

The stairs of the East Wing tower were treacherous. It was a five story span of steep, spiraling steps. There were no guard rails, and the lack of windows meant that the area was poorly lit. Climbing all five stories the night before had set Starlight's legs to burning. Fluttershy had handled them deftly enough, despite her pregnancy. Winter Lilac, however, seemed to be having some issues. "Are you okay?" Starlight asked, her voice echoing off the stone walls.

The ungainly mare was careful in the way she negotiated each step. She was noticeably taking them on one at a time, and her pace seemed to lack any sort of rhythm. "I'm fine," she insisted. "I haven't been as confident around stairs since the fever took my sight a few years back."

Starlight looked at her as if she was seeing her for the first time. Her eyes! She realized, suddenly feeling stupid for not coming to the conclusion earlier. "I didn't know you were... You get around so well, I didn't know... Wait, weren't you reading from a clipboard when I woke up in your lab?"

"Celestia be good!" Winter Lilac sighed. "Pack that pity crap in. I'm not completely blind, okay? I just have some issues with depth perception. My motor skills are nothing too hot, either."

"If that's the case, why would Fluttershy send you up a five story flight of steps to retrieve me?"

"She was going to send the doctor, but Patches can't find a vein as well as I can. He can set your bones and sew you up, but mixing and administering medicine is my specialty, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone do my job for me."

"Doctor Patches," Starlight shuddered. The mask-wearing mute of an enigma all clad in his coat of leathery black shrouds would have been even less of a pleasant scene to wake up to than the corpse-eyed apothecary. Conjuring up that mask of his in her mind was enough to make her blood run cold. "S-so," she stammered, deciding to change the subject, "that must have been a pretty nasty fever for it to have effected your motor functions."

Winter's eye twitched. "No shit, Sherclop."

"You don't have to be nasty," Starlight said defensively. "I was just saying..."

"I hate redundant statements like that. It's like walking up to somebody in a body cast and prodding them with a stick while saying, 'Oh, golly-gee-gawrsh, you must have been in a pretty nasty accident to be encased in all that plaster!"

"I think I would have more sense than to do that."

"Somehow I doubt it."

Like a crossbow bolt Starlight Glimmer had a quip nocked and levered back in preparation to be loosed, but she ultimately decided not to pull the trigger, electing that the one who tended to her medicinal needs might not be the best pony to make enemies with. She instead decided to remain silent for the duration of their walk. It was a simple arrangement, considering the mare was untalkative by nature. So long as Starlight didn't say anything, Winter Lilac wouldn't have to respond, and that seemed to be their unspoken agreement.

Starlight continued to follow the apothecary down the stairs of the Eastern Tower and entered the foyer via a door located on the second floor. They strode alongside the railing of the balustrade to the wide staircase opposite from the palace's main entrance, descended to the first floor, and the feasting hall was located just through the double doors on the west side of the vestibule.

She immediately noticed Sombra and Fluttershy at the far end of the hall when Winter Lilac pushed the massive doors open. A soft, royal blue carpet extending from the entrance reached the foot of a high marble dais, and The King and Queen were perched in what looked like thrones at the top of the steps. They had a table set up in front of them, and there were others eating with them, one of them being the child that Starlight Glimmer had encountered the day before. The other, sitting at the opposite end of the table from her, was none other than Prince Blue Blood. There was an empty seat among them. Starlight Glimmer didn't have to wonder who it was meant for.

She began the long, slow walk toward the dais after she had realized Winter Lilac had already abandoned her in pursuit of breakfast, the palace staff filling the rows of tables and benches on either side of her as she passed them by. She kept her head down and her eyes forward to avoid eye contact with anyone who may have been giving her queer looks. She didn't see them, but she swore she could feel them.

The main source of her anxiety stemmed from how she may be received by Fluttershy. She felt remorseful for what she had said to her. She would continue to hold true to her moral principals, but she had allowed herself to let fly with some utterances that would have been better left unsaid.

Instead of stopping a monster you'd rather squeeze out another one. With Sombra as the father I'm sure the little bastard will turn out to be even more of a beast than he is.

Starlight Glimmer cringed. Those words, now that she thought back on them, tasted like venom in her mouth.The mounting tension knotted her insides as she forced herself to keep moving.

Two guards were posted at the steps, but they did nothing to hinder her progress. One of them even gestured toward the high table with a hoof to bid her passage, and so Starlight ascended.

"You would have me dress like a mare?" Sombra was saying as Starlight was coming within earshot of their conversation.

"I'm just saying, a silken doublet and perhaps some fine jewelry would do more to bring out your regality," Blue Blood explained. "What's wrong, too masculine to enjoy the finer things? You can't be comfortable wearing that armor all the time." The stallion seemed to be in possession of an idiolect that came off as rather foppish, Starlight Glimmer noted. The Prince was broad of chest and shoulder, and he was slender in the flanks. He had full, pouty lips, which might have been a feature that other mares would have found attractive, but to Starlight, they just made him look petulant.

"To the contrary," Sombra replied, "I would not be comfortable wearing anything else. I would go naked before I'd frolic about bedecked like some decadent dandy."

The child named Ethereal Moon was the first to greet Starlight Glimmer as she arrived at the crest of the dais. "Oh, there she is. Starlight Glimmer, was it?"

Starlight anxiously placed her hoof upon the headrest of the unoccupied seat. "Uh... yeah." She shot Fluttershy a trepidatious glance. She didn't seem to be angry. At least that was something.

"Have a seat," the filly offered, and with a roll of her eyes she added, "Prince Blue Blood was just giving us all some fashion advice."

"Love," Blue Blood said, a wry smile on his petulantly pretty face, "the only garb I could recommend for you would be swaddling clothes."

Ethereal Moon forked a piece of pancake into her mouth and mumbled, "Good idea. I'll pick some up from the girl's department. You know, the same place where you get your crap."

Starlight Glimmer was quickly growing fond of this Ethereal Moon. The sassy filly reminded her a bit of herself when she was younger, and the cute little skull ribbon in her hair was something she herself might have worn during her edgelord preteen years.

"You two," Fluttershy broke in, massaging her temples, "it's too early for this. Can we all just have one pleasant meal together?" Her voice was as soft as a whisper, but when she spoke, the others listened.

"Yes, my queen," Blue Blood muttered.

"Yes, my queen," Ethereal Moon said with a smirk, satisfied that she had had the last word.

Fluttershy looked at starlight and indicated the empty chair in front of her. It was cushioned, and the wood was finely lacquered, but it was nowhere near as ostentatious as the giant thrones The King and Queen sat upon. "You can go ahead and take a seat. Joji, that's our server, he'll be back any second with more food."

Starlight warily did as she was bid. "So..." she said, articulating herself as vaguely as she could, uncomfortably aware of Sombra's presence. "Are we still... You're not mad, are you?"

Sombra wiped his mouth after setting a massive mug down on the table. "Why should my queen be angry with you?" he said suspiciously.

Acting before Starlight could utter a reply, Fluttershy gently commandeered her king's hoof and said, "We had a minor disagreement last night." She then turned to Starlight Glimmer with a forgiving smile and said, "But, that's all behind us, isn't it?"

"A disagreement over what?" Sombra wanted to know.

The Queen stroked his hoof. "Oh, it was just a silly political debate that got a little heated, is all. No need to worry, my king."

Starlight could cry, she was so relieved. It had seemed that she had been dreading her encounter with Fluttershy for nothing. And what was more, her invective had not reached The King's ears.

"Politics, bah," The King scoffed before he lifted his mug and took another deep swallow of its contents.

Starlight Glimmer eyed an unused plate on the table and pulled it closer. "Aren't you a politician?"

Sombra selected a blood orange from a silver fruit bowl at the center of the table. "No, I am a king."

"Aren't those kinda synonymous with each other?"

"No." Then Sombra devoured the orange in one bite... He didn't even bother to peel it. Starlight waited patiently for him to elaborate. The King quaffed down the remnants of the liquid in his mug. Whatever it was, it was darker and thicker than swamp water and it reeked so strongly of alcohol, she could smell it from across the table. "If you truly wish to know the difference," he said, "I would invite you to join us at court today."

"Court?" Starlight said, before being promptly distracted by a red haired pegasus who arrived bearing a pewter serving dish.

"Hubby and I hold court every other day," chimed in Fluttershy. "We conduct the proceedings in the throne room from mid-morn to afternoon."

"Sounds.... Fun?" said Starlight, not wanting to be rude. She was more interested in the pancakes now that they were in front of her. She was piling a modest stack onto her plate with a spatula when Ethereal Moon decided to elaborate.

"I don't want to sound rude, but it's not about fun, it's about duty. The King's court gives the royal family an opportunity to connect and reach out to their subjects, to dispense their justice, their mercy, and their generosity. It's not some motley-clad mummer's farce where everyone shows up to have a good time; It's seriously serious business."

Starlight Glimmer smiled at her cloyingly. There was something about the way the filly said 'seriously serious business' that was just so adorable.

Ethey took a cute, ladylike bite from her pancake, chewed, swallowed, then took a sip from her cup. She looked up after that, and when she noticed how she was being stared at, she adjusted her glasses uneasily and said, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm sorry sweetie, I'm not trying to make you feel uneasy," Starlight replied. "You know, you're quite eloquent for your age. I'll bet you get really good grades."

Blue Blood, for some strange reason, started to snigger into his napkin.

"Oh yes," was Ethereal Moon's response, "I'm quite the prodigy."

Starlight couldn't help but detect a subtle hint of sarcasm in the girl's voice.

"Allow me to illuminate you," came Sombra.

Starlight blinked. "Illuminate me on what?"

The King gestured toward the filly with his massive hoof, as if he was introducing her. "Lady Ethereal Moon is four-and-twenty; she is a mare grown."

Blue Blood tittered at that. "I believe that the use of the word 'grown' could be contended with, your majesty."

"My king," Ethey complained, "why did you have to tell her that? She's gonna start staring at me now."

Suddenly aware of herself, Starlight Glimmer tore her goggled gaze from the young-looking mare. Now she felt like a fool. She had heard of medical conditions that could stunt one's physical age progression, but she had never actually met anybody with such an affliction.

Sombra pushed the food around on his plate and said, "Would you have preferred for her to have continued belittling you?"

"To be honest, I'm used to it; I really don't care. I don't live at the Chrystal Empire anymore, so I've left the worst of all that behind me."

"Regardless, I will not have my adviser mocked in my presence."

"I didn't mock her!" Starlight Glimmer insisted, but her objection went unheard.

Ethereal Moon blushed appreciatively. "I'm flattered that you would defend me so, your grace."

"You've served me well, Madam Adviser. It is only right I do you the same courtesy."

Lowering her gaze, Ethey started fidgeting with her hooves under the table, her immaculate white coat doing poorly to conceal how incandescently red her face was becoming.

"I only wish you could grant me the same dignity," complained Blue Blood.

"What are you on about?" Said The King, affronted. "I've treated you with every respect a highborn of your station commands. Need I remind you that you are currently feasting at my high table?"

"Respect?" Blue Blood said peevishly. "You won't even let me use the spa. I'm forced to bathe at the public bathhouse with all the other lowborn stallions. I've never heard of a noble being treated in such a way by a fellow aristocrat. A proper king should know better."

"The spa is reserved for palace staff. And don't call me an aristocrat," Sombra admonished. "And if you presume to councel me again on what a proper king should or shouldn't do, you'll soon hear of the noble who was publicly humbled at the pillory."

That was when Fluttershy finally decided to intervene. She took her husband tenderly by the hoof and said, "Now, now, we must remember our courtesies, my king. Remember the promises you've made to Princess Celestia."

"As you wish, my lady," Sombra said, subduing his ire.

Fluttershy then smiled and rose from her seat to kiss him, as if to reward him for his restraint.

The Prince smirked. "Your wife gives you good councel, sire. Perhaps she should be the one wearing the king's crown." He then snortled, absurdly pleased with himself.

Sombra ignored the sally, but Ethereal Moon didn't. "Say... Have you heard the story of the impertinent prince who crossed one too many lines and managed to return home without any 'unforseen' incidences befalling him?"

Blue Blood regarded the adviser quizzically. "No."

"Neither have I."

Fluttershy had finally reached the end of her patience. "Enough, the both of you! Ethey, you know better than to be rude to a guest - especially one who happens to be Celestia's own flesh and blood. You're older than I am, I shouldn't have to remind you of your manners."

The adviser averted her gaze with a frown. "Yes, my queen."

The Queen turned on Blue Blood, who was laughing until their eyes met. "My lord, I will remind you that you are a dignitary of her Royal Highness Princess Celestia. Show some class and show some respect, or she will be receiving a direct report from me on the poor way you've been representing her."

The Prince looked indignant but he at least had the decency to blush. "Yes, my queen."

There was a hint of pride in The King's smile as he held his mug out for a refill. The young steward was at his side in an instant, flagon in hoof. "My lady love is a lioness this morn, wouldn't you agree, lad?"

"She's as beautiful as she is fearsome, your grace," Joji eagerly agreed.

Fluttershy liked that. She placed her hooves over her belly as she rested herself back against her seat, smiling appreciatively for her husband's words.

"Aren't you going to lecture him, too?" Said Blue Blood, indicating Sombra with a frustrated wave of his hoof. "He implied that I dress like a mare, and he actually had the temerity to threaten me with the pillory!"

Sombra then unexpectedly lowered his head and humbled himself. "I forgot my kingly courtesies, my prince - but my beloved queen reminded me of them. I regret and withdraw my remarks."

The Prince of Equestria was suddenly nonplussed. "All is... Forgiven?"

Fluttershy leaned in her throne and embraced her husband by the arm. "My king, that was so elegant of you."

"Yes," Sombra said lazily, "It is important to note that one must conduct himself in a mature fashion, even when confronted by another who is incapable of doing the same."

Blue Blood looked as if he was laboring under the notion that he had just been covertly mocked.

Much later, after everyone had eaten their fill, and the flagons had been drained, and the soiled plates and cutlery were being collected to be scoured and cleansed, Sombra looked to his adviser and said, "Ethey, what is the hour?"

"We still have plenty of time before you must hold court, if that's what you're asking, your grace."

"About an hour and a half, I'd say," Blue Blood announced, looking into the face of a gold and platinum pocket watch he had drawn from his cornflower blue tunic.

"You attend the court, too?" Starlight asked him.

"Yes, but I only stand in as a witness to The King's justice."

"'Witness to The King's justice.' Isn't that a little archaic?"

The prince shrugged. "Not in King Sombra's court, it's not."

"For the sake of transparency," Sombra explained. "My court is open to the public, so that all may see that my rulings are just and fair."

Starlight Glimmer scratched her chin pensively. It was surprisingly noble of The King to allow the public to witness whatever his notion of justice was.

"Which reminds me," Sombra said curiously, "Ethey, what is it that you intend to do until it is time to assemble in the throne room?"

"I was going to head to the library. That is, if you've nothing else for me to do."

"I thought that's where you'd be going. When you get there, can you please confirm that the librarian has a copy of the latest shipping manifest? And if he does, bring it to me. We just received that new shipment of books last week, and I'd like to know if everything that was ordered has been accounted for. I refuse to pay for cargo I have not received."

"I can do that," Ethey said.

Blue Blood rolled his eyes. "When you say you're going to the library, I'm assuming that means you'll be spending the rest of your morning leisure fawning over those rediculous vampire comics?"

"It's not 'fawning,' It's fangirling," Ethey pointed out haughtily." And the protagonist in Vampire Hunter P is not a vampire. He's a halfling."

"Riveting," The Prince replied in a halfhearted show of mock interest. "My King, I think I'll just return to my quarters for now. I still have a report I must conclude for Princess Celestia."

Sombra waved him away with a hoof. "Don't let me keep you from fulfilling your duties to your precious Auntie Celestia. Oh, and, do be a good little princeling and send her and that comely sister of hers my undying love, won't you?"

The Prince chuckled. "I shall, and I'm sure they will send you theirs." He then excused himself with a princely smile and a graceful bow. Ethereal Moon was short to leave soon after.

Fluttershy dabbed at the syrup on her lips with a napkin. "I think I'll go feed the owls. They're probably starting to wonder where I am."

"Owls?" Starlight Glimmer echoed. "Aren't owls nocturnal?"

"For the most part, but it's not unheard of for them to be out and about during the day. There's a whole family of them nesting out in the garden." Fluttershy smiled adoringly. "They're so adorable with their little beaks and big eyes. And the way they rub their little faces against you when they want your attention - they're like kitties with feathers."

"My love is quite fond of her owls," Sombra needlessly pointed out.

"Didn't realize," Starlight replied dryly.

The King folded his hooves over the table after his serving boy had taken away the last plate. "And you, miss Starlight, what is it that you intend to do?"

"You're actually giving me a choice?" Starlight asked, not expecting the question.

"If I wasn't giving you a choice I wouldn't have asked you. Be mindful that you are still a prisoner, and as such, your choices will be limited. You're not to leave the palace, but the library and the spa are open to you, so long as you submit to being supervised by an escort of my choosing."

"But don't tell Blue Blood we're allowing you access to the spa," Fluttershy added.

"Yes," Sombra agreed, almost pleadingly, "refrain from boasting to The Prince. He will whinge like an infant being denied the tit should he find out.

The question had put Starlight Glimmer off. She wasn't expecting to be granted any freedoms at all. "I'm not sure what I want to do... What else is there besides the spa and library?"

"We also have a sizable recreational room for the staff. It has..." Sombra looked at his serving boy, who was loading up the dishes in a tub in preparation for transport. "Joji, help your poor king out. What do you call that game you yammer on about with the advisor?"

The boy perked up enthusiastically like a daisy in spring. "Ogres and Obliettes?"

"No, no, no, the one with the flat bludgeoning devices."

The boy scratched his head. "Uh... Whack-A-Mole?" he said, unsure.

"Whackamole... What is that?" The King turned to his bride and repeated the question.

Fluttershy crossed her arms over her chest with a scathing look of disapproval. "It's a game that promotes animal violence, and I will not have it in my palace."

The serving boy stroked the back of his head in deep thought. "Uhm... Table Tennis, perhaps?"

The King's eyes glinted. "Table Tennis... Yes, I believe that's it. Good lad." He returned his attention to Starlight Glimmer. "We have Table Tennis."

It took only a moment for Starlight Glimmer to realize what it was she wanted to do, and it was none of the things that had been offered to her. "Can I go down and visit the girls?"

"Your friends? They're fine. You saw them yesterday." Sombra's response came in a ponderous tone, as if he was imagining that there was some kind of nefarious motive behind the request. Let it never be said that The King didn't guard his bargaining chips with a jealous fervor.

Fluttershy gave Starlight an understanding smile. "She just wants to visit them, my king. I myself visit them consistently enough and you never seem to have a problem with it."

"Yes, but she's not you, and you're not her."

"Oh, come on. It's not like I'm gonna somehow spirit them away, or something," Starlight Glimmer broke in before The King could outright deny her request. "I know they're safe in your care, but, I just want to see them. They're... They're my friends."

Fluttershy nudged her husband. When he looked down at her she said, "I would beseech you to trust her as you trust me, my king."

"Trust her as I would you?" The King balked. "I would be a fool to do that. You've never made an attempt on my life."

Starlight gloomed down at the table with a dejected sigh.

"However," Sombra conceded, "I shall grant your request. But I will escort you."

That caught Starlight off guard. She looked up at Sombra and couldn't be sure if he was truly granting her request, or if he was just appealing to his wife's bidding. Either way, It didn't matter to her. Not knowing what else to do, she lowered her head and thanked him. And for the first time ever she addressed him as, "King Sombra." And that would have to do as far as honors go, because she still held it in her heart that she would never refer to him as her king.

Why I Fight

She's pale, Starlight thought, stroking the unresponsive Twilight Sparkle's cheek gently with the back of her hoof. She was cold, too. Cold as a corpse. But she had a heart beat, faint as it was. And she was breathing, though just barely. The Princess was not truly alive, nor was she truly dead. She and the others were just husks, robbed of their sentients. "Do they dream?" she wondered out loud.

Sombra watched her from the alchemy table, his eyes glowing vividly in the dimness of the chamber, making him seem like something born from a nightmare. Starlight imagined the affectionate way Fluttershy must have looked into those eyes of his on the night they conceived that child of theirs, ill as the thought made her. How could she willingly spread her legs for such a repugnant creature? He looked like a demon. He was a demon for what he had done to her friends. "Did you dream?" he asked her.

Starlight lowered her head. The melancholy she felt upon seeing her friends in the pitiful state they were in was almost overwhelming. "No. Last thing I remember was you looking down at me in the garden. I remember closing my eyes. Then I remember opening them down here. That's pretty much it."

"Then I doubt they are," Sombra put forth. "They most likely are as you were, sleeping peacefully. You should rejoice in that. Dreams can be such unpleasant things. Believe me, I know this all too well."

What do monsters dream of? What could possibly disturb, disquiet or frighten one such as you? Starlight wiped her eyes. "You didn't have to go this far... You didn't have to hurt them this badly."

Sombra's voice was cold in a logical sort of way. "You tried to kill me. I could have killed you. I could have killed all of you, but I didn't. The only crime I am guilty of is showing you the mercy you would not have granted me."

Starlight thought of the blood stained keep filled with slaughtered rogues. Rogues that didn't need to be slaughtered. Rogues that could have been imprisoned instead of killed, and perhaps even rehabilitated. With the proper care and counseling anything was possible. But Sombra had robbed them of that opportunity. To hear him go on about mercy was nothing less than nauseating. "You only spared us because you saw more value in us as hostages than corpses; you're not merciful, you're just opportunistic and self-serving," she accused.

"That is a half truth," Sombra admitted, in his insufferably patronizing matter-of-fact tone he liked to use. "The Princess of friendship is indeed a valuable hostage. You are more of a value to me as an asset than an enemy. Your other friends, however, they're useless to me. In fact, they're less than useless. They're nothing but a drain on my resources. I look forward to the day I can finally rid myself of them."

"Then, do it!" Starlight demanded. "Just let them go. They've been punished enough, what with being trounced within an inch of their lives, and then being induced into a coma to grow more feeble by the day in the bowels of your palace. These are not the hardened barbarians you're used to throwing down with, Sombra. They're just teenage girls."

"Yet, they're far more of a threat to me than any savage I've ever killed, with you being the biggest threat of them all. You claim that I had 'trounced' you, but do not forget the wounds you've dealt me: You caught me by surprise, you disoriented me, you burned me, you even battered me around for a time. It was ultimately your ignorance and your recklessness that did you in; you willingly hanged yourself in that fight, all I did was provide the rope."

Yes, and you're quite fond of hanging, aren't you? The swaying bodies from the keep managed to once again force their way into Starlight's memories. Why couldn't she get those images out of her head? The wide eyes, some of them popped out of their sockets from the pressure the ropes around their necks had created, the blue faces, the blackened, swollen tongues, it all tormented her so. Her anxiety flared whenever the images intruded upon her thoughts.

"If you so desperately wish for them to be free," Sombra tempted her, "you know what you must do."

Starlight sighed. "You want me to bend the knee to you?"

"Yes, and the sooner you do, the sooner I'll rouse your friends. I would have them bathed and pampered as you were, and I would have them sup with us on the eve. My cooks would prepare a grand feast for all of us. And on the morrow after, I would send them on their merry way. We can then begin to work to put all this ugly business behind us, you making an attempt on my life and trying to steal my wife away from me."

"She was our friend before she was ever your wife. And you were the one who stole her away from us."

Sombra's voice dripped with sarcasm as he said, "And I'm sure she would have gone with you just as willingly as she did with me, if you had only asked her nicely."

"You. Kidnapped. Her. There was nothing 'willing' about it. I Don't know if you've realized this, but kidnapping a young mare, It's kind of a dick thing to do!"

"You were trying to do exactly what you're accusing me of, the only difference being that you were going to commit an act of murder in the process."

"Oh, so we're the bad guys? What about you, Mister Death-and-Destruction? You destroyed half of the Chrystal Empire when you went on that rampage of yours."

"But did I kill anyone? And please, think before you respond. I'd hate for you to look the fool."

"You..." Starlight froze. She had witnessed the damage that had been done to the city firsthoof, but she couldn't recall hearing about any deaths. It was an anomaly that seemed rather miraculous at the time, all that destruction and not a single fatality. "You threatened to," she attempted, "and you destroyed a lot of property."

"Yes, t'was a demonstration of my raw power, so that my threats would be potent enough to coerce Celestia into granting my demands. She would not have agreed to quarter with me otherwise. Were I to simply canter up to her gate and start barking demands, she, her sister, and her guards might not have taken to me too kindly... Then there would have been death. Mine, definitely, and probably many others, but I went through drastic measures to avoid that scenario."

The King's explanation awakened a morbid curiosity in Starlight. Vexed and utterly befuddled, she gave him a look, as if she was trying to figure him out. Sombra was a mystery wrapped inside of an enigma, festooned with riddles and encased in a puzzle box. He had flaunted his power, cowed Celestia with threats of mass murder, specifically chose one of her own Elements of Harmony to bride, escaped to the North, then began a blood-soaked campaign of carnage. There was a method behind all this madness, she could feel it. "But why?" she heard herself say. "Why any of this? Everything you've done, it's obviously been coordinated, planned. What's the end game in all of this?"

"Look around you," came The King's cryptic reply.

"Okay..." And so Starlight Glimmer did. She saw her friends laying comatose in their beds. She saw stone walls, and candles, and alchemy equipment, and she saw The King. "What exactly am I looking for?" she said, confused.

"What do you see?"

"Walls?"

Sombra nodded. "Yes, and what's beyond that?"

"Your gates?"

"And beyond that?"

"The village?"

"And what is in that village?"

"Cottages, roads... That tavern you took me to last night?"

"You're not wrong, but think harder."

Starlight Glimmer was quickly reaching the end of her patience. "I don't know, Ponies? Zebras, Griffons, Hippogriffs, Yaks?"

"My subjects," Sombra corrected her, as she had apparently arrived at the crux of his inquiry. "Their race is of absolutely no consequence to me. Many of them have known pain and suffering a southron such as yourself could never imagine, and now they are living under my rule. What I did at the Chrystal Empire, and what I do here now in New Haven, I do for them." He then removed his crown, his raven mane tumbling about his shoulders like loose ringlets of darkened silk, and he looked at it thoughtfully. The polished dragon bone reflected the light from his eyes. "I did what I did to be a king once again," he explained. "To be king during a time of war, I would not wish it upon my most loathed enemy; it is the greatest burden anyone could possibly know. I sometimes feel as if the weight from this blasted ornament could break my neck."

"What's with you? You just said you went through great lengths to be a king once again, but then you immediately talk about how horrible the burden is?"

Starlight Glimmer gave The King a ponderous look as he pulled a stool out from under the alchemy bench. He offered it to her with a gesture of his hoof. "Sit. If you would, please."

Suspicious, yet intrigued, Starlight did as she was asked. There was only one seat in the entire room, and that was the Apothecary's stool, so Sombra sat on his haunches, at the end of the table. Starlight adjusted herself until she felt comfortable and said, "Okay, so we're sitting. What's this about?"

"I'm afraid I was not as honest with you as I could have been," Sombra sighed, looking deep in thought. "Do you recall the question you put to me when I supped you last night? You should know the one I'm talking about."

Starlight thought, and she managed to recall an inquiry that was not received with a satisfactory answer. "It was the question I asked you just now, only worded differently. I asked you why you were doing all this. You simply said that you were doing it because you could. I wasn't sure what to make of that, but I decided not to press the issue."

Sombra placed his crown on the table. "You are astute," he commented. "A vaguely articulated truth holds no more value than that of a lie by omission. They can both be used for deceptive purposes."

"Or to avoid a topic one would rather not discuss?" Starlight guessed.

"Once again, you are astute. It is not fair for me to expect you to join me in my conquest, if I should refuse to explain to you the reason for why I have embarked on it."

"And what if I decide to not join you on this 'conquest' of yours?" Starlight glimmer looked at him uneasily. "Would you still tell me?"

Sombra considered her before responding. "If it should so please my lady, this boon I shall grant you."

Starlight had to restrain a snort. Oh, so now I'm his lady? The King was once again trying to play the charmer. If only he realized how ridiculous it sounded when he used that ye oldy dialect of his in such a non-ironic way. "Sure," she replied, "I'll lendeth you mine ears, my, uh, gentlesir."

Sombra frowned. "I suppose you think that's terribly funny, that jape of yours?"

Starlight lowered her head, abashed. "It wasn't, was it? Yeah, that was in poor taste, sorry."

Sombra silently looked at her until she felt more uncomfortable than she already was. He was acting noticeably more serious than usual. He could usually put up with an impertinent remark, so long as it wasn't too personal. It made her wonder deeper still about what it was he intended to tell her. "I apologize, okay?" she finally said. "You're gonna burn a hole through me if you keep glaring at me like that."

And there was a partial truth in that. His eyes glowed so brightly in the dim laboratory that it stung to look directly into them. His irritation only seemed to intensify their vividity.

"I'm not glaring," insisted Sombra. "Merely thinking. I'm not sure where to begin. I guess I should start at the collapse of my first reign... Yes, that is a good starting point, I believe."

"The collapse of your first reign?" replied Starlight, placing her hoof thoughtfully under her chin. "You mean when Celestia and Luna defeated you?"

"Yes." Sombra's voice went soft, yet it was still deep, like a dull hum. "I remember pain."

"What did you say?" Starlight leaned over the table to better hear him.

"Everything hurt, not just on the outside, but on the inside as well. I was bereft of my sanity, and in one fell swoop Celestia and her sister smote me and appropriated my throne. I had nothing left after that. I begged them for mercy, but they granted me none."

Starlight Glimmer's ears perked up. "You begged them for mercy?" she said disbelievingly. "How can you say they denied you their mercy? Princess Celestia offered you a chance to yield, and you spat in her face."

Sombra rolled his eyes and began to quote the final chapter of The Darkness Rising verbatim, as if he himself had read it a thousand times. "He needed only repent for all the suffering he had wrought, and all would be forgiven. Remorse, however, was an emotion that was lost on the beast. So consumed with seething black hatred was his heart, that there was simply no room for anything else. Sombra spat Celestia's offer back in her face and cursed her for a whore, and by doing so, he sealed his fate." The King's head fell forward as he punctuated the closing sentence with a humorless chuckle, his thick black mane closing around his visage like a dark curtain.

"You begged them for mercy?" Starlight said again, her face the portrait of scepticism. Sombra seemed too proud for such a thing.

Sombra lifted his head and swept his dark mane back with his hoof. "Celestia had no mercy to offer me, nor did I curse her for a whore. I begged her to kill me. I wanted to be nothing more than naught. But in her unfathomable cruelty she decided that she would instead seal my still-living body away in a tomb of ice. And it was in that tomb where I would grow no older than I was. I would simply exist for all eternity."

"You actually wanted to die?"

"Yes, I had grown quite weary of this wretched thing called existence. The cards life had dealt me up until then had left my soul in shambles. I wanted an end to it. Celestia and Luna had defeated me. My life was theirs for the taking, and I eagerly welcomed them to it."

"But you were born a prince. You lived a life of wealth and privilege. What was so horrible about your life that it left you wanting to die?"

Sombra cast a seething gaze upon her and snapped in a sharp tone, "That is not a story for you. And I would thank you for not asking me that again."

Starlight Glimmer tensed up in her seat. "Okay, okay... Gosh..."

"I had thought that I knew what true suffering was, but Celestia had proven me wrong," Sombra continued. "Decades passed, and all I could do was project my astral form to wander about aimlessly. Madness took hold, and my senses abandoned me. I wanted so badly to die, I threw myself from the highest peaks. I tried to drown myself in the deepest oceans. I was well aware that my astral form couldn't be killed, for it was merely a magical projection of my consciousness, but I was utterly and hopelessly mad with desperation."

Starlight Glimmer shifted uneasily in her seat. "Could anyone see you in this astral form of yours?"

"Neigh. I was but a ghost, formless and intangible, and no matter how fiercely I howled in my fits of hopeless misery, not a soul would pay me any mind."

Starlight could feel a chill come over her.

"After countless failed attempts to end mine own existence, I had eventually accepted my fate, that I was doomed to walk the earth for eternity, forlorn as the prospect had made me. With nothing to do for my situation, I decided to roam beyond the northern boarders of the Chrystal Empire. Whether it was a desire to change the scenery or a since of nostalgia that was beckoning to me, I can't quite remember."

"Nostalgia?" Starlight interrupted. "I'm guessing by 'beyond the norther border' you mean the peninsula - where we are right now. Why would you have a since of nostalgia for this place?"

"This place was my home for a time. I was the crowned prince of The Chrystal Empire, but I spent half my youth here. I'd rather not get into depth. My childhood is irrelevant."

"This horrible place was your childhood home? Sheesh, no wonder you're so--" And then Starlight stopped herself.

Sombra gave her a mildly irritated look, but it passed quickly enough as he continued. "I had found that the peninsula had gotten worse since I had left it. Much worse. Warlords were beginning to stake their claims in the few pieces of fertile land that existed in this barren place, and skirmishes were breaking out everywhere over contested territory. This was never an easy place to live, but when the brigands started forming factions and instigating rivalries, it became Tartarus on Equestrian soil.

"I was merely a specter wandering the battlefields, going unseen and unheard as I watched plunderers lute bodies before giving them to the carrion birds. I saw tyrants rise, and I saw them fall to other tyrants, only to be replaced with another within a moon's turn. I saw warlords clash, and I bore witness to hundreds of would be emperors and kings meet their fates. It was never ending. The crows were the only creatures around here that were consistently fat and happy. I had eventually arrived at a point where it was becoming too much for even me to watch. My capacity for carnage was reaching its threshold."

"So, you do have a limit?" Starlight said.

"I do," Sombra admitted. "I had been teetering upon the edge for a while, but I eventually witnessed an event that brought me to a point where I finally decided that enough was enough."

"What was this event?" Starlight asked with genuine interest.

"You'll not enjoy this part," Sombra cautioned her.

"We've gone this far," Starlight said, steeling herself for whatever it was she was about to hear. "We might as well go the rest of the way."

"What I am about to describe to you is a prime example of bandits doing what bandits do best."

Starlight was almost ashamed at how eager she was becoming. She hadn't even realized until she looked down that she was literally sitting at the edge of her seat.

Sombra made a face, as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. "One day," he began, "I happened upon a traveling merchant, her wares and belongings gathered in a wagon. She was woefully oblivious of the danger she was walking into. To any brigand, she was an irresistible target: a mare, young and pretty, seemingly all alone and unarmed, with a wagon full of plunder ripe for the taking. She was either stupid, or she wasn't from around the area. I assumed she was traveling in from the southern border. It was oft that merchants from The Chrystal Empire would travel in search of new patronage, as the competition amongst the traitors in the city was fierce at the time. But this girl... This girl..." Sombra looked down at the table, and in an ominous tone he said, "She was a long way from home."

Starlight Glimmer chewed at her lip. She could already see where this was going. "That poor girl," she said sadly. "I can only imagine what must have happened to her."

"I'm sure you can, and you wouldn't be wrong," Sombra replied. "A group of marauders eventually discovered her, as you have probably surmised. Using tactics they had no doubt employed a hundred times before, they fell upon the mare as sudden and violent as a storm. She tried to resist them as they were pulling her from the yoke of her wagon, but all the fight was immediately taken out of her when one of them savagely struck her in the face with a war club. The girl went down after the blow had been administered, and those dregs, in their eagerness, wasted no time unhitching her from her cart so they could take turns having their way with her. The girl tried to cry out, but the only sound she could make from her smashed in muzzle was an incoherent gurgling moan. It was a ghastly, piteous sound that I would never care to hear again in my life."

Starlight resisted the urge to cover her ears. "I don't know if I want to hear anymore of this."

"It gets worse," Sombra said.

"How could it possibly get any worse? Im guessing they killed her in some horrible way afterwards, right? If that's the abridged version of what you saw, then you can just leave me with that."

Sombra furrowed his brow. "No, that's not what happened. Though that may have been preferable to what actually ended up happening to her. What I saw them doing to that mare disgusted me, but I wasn't truly horrified until I realized there was a child hiding in the wagon. The bandits, there were eight of them, if memory serves correctly, they discovered her when one of them ripped the tarp away to have a look at the plunder. She couldn't have been older than ten years of age."

Starlight felt a knot forming in her stomach. "No..."

"Yes." Sombra looked at her. "The most depraved bandit in their group gave that filly a hungry look upon discovering her. He must have decided his grotesque appetite wasn't quite sated. The son of a whore dragged the filly screaming from the cart, all the while making some disgusting jest about how he didn't mind his fruit a little underripe."

Aghast, Starlight shot up from her seat so fast she knocked her stool over. "But You... You just said she couldn't have been older than ten. She was a baby!"

Sombra's eyes darted away from hers. It appeared as if he was looking off in the distance, but there was only a wall in front of him. He nodded once and gave a curt, "Aye."

The pitch in Starlight's voice became high with distress. "But that's sick! What about his friends? I mean, I get that they were all bandits, but they must have had some standards! One of them had to have at least said something."

Sombra sneered. "Oh, they said some things. They stood by and laughed and spat obscene jests as they watched that poor little girl squirm and sob. After that, they bound both the girl and the mare with ropes as they both wept inconsolably.The bandits then dragged them away along with their cart. Two new slaves and a wagon full of valuables... Those brigands were well rewarded for the horrific crimes they committed that day.

Starlight felt sick. "How could you have just watched something like that? Was there nothing you could have done to help them?"

"Fool!" Sombra suddenly slammed his hoof on the wooden table. The beakers and flasks rattled. Starlight was so startled she backed away, but her hoof had become entangled in the legs of the stool she had knocked over, and she fell backwards. "Do you think I enjoyed merely being a spectator to what I had witnessed? If it was in my power to do so, I would have ripped that bastard's head clean from his shoulders before he could have so much as laid a hoof on that child. I would have desexed the lot of them with a hooked blade and let them bleed out for what they did to that merchant."

"I-I I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you didn't care," Starlight stammered.

Sombra removed his hoof from the table, to inspect the damage he had made. The area of impact was now dented inward and bristling with splinters. "Winter Lilac is not going to thank me for that," he mused regretfully. Starlight could only blink stupidly at him as he looked down at her apologetically and offered her his hoof. Cautiously, she accepted it, and the powerful stallion effortlessly pulled her to her hooves, the muscles in his arm rippling under his course grey fur. The King then wordlessly reached down to pick up the stool.

"I'm sorry," Starlight said again, as she reclaimed her seat.

Sombra sighed. "You've done nothing to apologize for..." He then lifted his hooves and looked at them, as if to scorn them for the useless things they were. A few locks of his hair managed to tumble down in front of his face during his outburst. It obscured one of his eyes, giving him somewhat of a disheveled appearance. "These hooves," he said. "They were made for killing. Just look at them, they're bludgeons. Yet, I could do nothing to help them. I could do nothing to help anyone in the state I was in."

Starlight could finally see where this story was heading. She had to be careful; she couldn't allow herself to let her guard down. This may have been the same tactic he used to garner Fluttershy's affection, this tragic villain card he was playing. She always was a sucker for stuff like that.

Sombra looked down at his crown and lifted it off the table. He inspected it, rotating it slowly in his hooves. The light from the candles shined off the polished dragon bone, its reflective surface aglow with a soft fiery aura. "The more of these atrocities I witnessed, the more I forgot about my misery. The outrage I just described to you began to open my eyes to the suffering the innocent inhabitants of this land were forced to endure. I saw many and more horrible things befall them day after day, and soon, my desire to die was replaced with an ambition. This land needed order. It was riddled with disease, and I eventually decided that I would be its cure. For the first time in nearly a thousand years, I felt a sense of purpose. I vowed I would reclaim my body, somehow, someway, no matter what I had to do, I would figure out a way to free myself from my frozen prison. I would then return to this foul quagmire of sin and suffering, and I would purge this land."

Purge... Nice replacement for the word genocide. You might as well use the term 'cleanse' or 'purify.' It would almost make what you're doing sound noble. And that was the problem. From hearing Sombra's story, it seemed that he truly believed what he was doing was righteous. He had even gone so far as to delude Fluttershy into thinking the same way as him. It was terrifying how alike the two were starting to sound. The uncomfortable thought brought her to her next question. "Why Fluttershy? Of all ponies, of any mare you could have taken, why did you choose her?"

Sombra scratched the stubble of his chin. "I had many reasons for choosing her."

The vague and almost carefree way in which Sombra replied irritated Starlight. "Yes?" she said impatiently, prompting him to continue.

"Her face was such a fair thing to look upon, with eyes so blue, I nearly drowned in them."

Starlight Glimmer screwed up her face. "You're... You're kidding, right?"

"Her voice, tremulous as it was when she first met me, was like an angels choir," Sombra continued. "Her delicate wings. The exquisite curves of her flanks, and let us not forget that shapely little rump they're attached to. There was simply nothing about her that was not pleasing."

"You had the hots for her? That's the reason why you selected her?"

"Yes, I found her appealing. Is that an odd quality to seek out in a mate?"

"No... I just figured you would have other reasons for picking her. I had assumed it had something to do with the power of her element."

"Oh, but it did. I demanded to have my pick of Celestia's own Elements of Harmony to bride. I killed two birds with one stone that day. In choosing my bride, not only would I have my queen to rule along side me, but I would also succeed in separating the elements, so that they could be one less weapon for Celestia to form against me. Once they were paraded in front of me, it all came down to whichever one I fancied. The white one with the azure eyes was a close contender, but Fluttershy was the one who ultimately caught my eye... The pink one, what was her name? She would have been the runner up. I have a weakness for blue eyes, I must admit."

"Fluttershy," Starlight mused. "The element of kindness. Opposites attract, after all." It's a shame her best quality is being eroded by your influence. Damn you, Sombra.

The pieces to Sombra's plan were falling into place. Everything The King had done up to this point was starting to make sense. There was one more thing that bothered her, though. "You obviously managed to escape from that frozen tomb of yours," Starlight said. "How exactly did you pull that off?"

Sombra steepled his hooves like a villain in a play monologuing his scheme to the audience. "Through discipline and sheer power of will, my dear... Unimaginable discipline, and power of will."

Starlight sighed. She was getting sick of that pose. He did it. Fluttershy did it. No doubt their child would grow fond of doing that as well. Could you be anymore of an archetype? she scoffed internally.

"After decades of trial and error I learned to gather energy from within my tomb by means of meditation," The King went on to explain. "The process would not work in my astral form, so I was forced to return to my body. It was slow going, and unbelievably painstaking. It was by far the most arduous trial I had ever been through. An entire century had gone by before I had enough energy to break free from my frozen prison. One hundred years trapped in my own body, unable to move, with nothing but the cold as my company. But low and behold, upon the thousandth anniversary of the fall of my first reign, I had finally returned. I stood from the ridge of the mountain in which I had been sealed, and I looked upon the empire that was once my kingdom. I wasted no time in putting my plans into motion."

"You could gather arcane energy through meditation?" Starlight said, astonished. "I've never heard of a technique like that. How - how did you do it?"

Sombra offered her a seductive smile and an inviting hoof. "I would love to teach you. I have much knowledge to bestow, so many secrets. Secrets you would not find in any book. It could all be yours, my dear."

Starlight, suddenly repelled, scooted her stool back to put more distance between them. "On second thought, I think I'm good."

"You make me sad." Sombra's countenance soured. He then looked to her friends laying in their beds, as if to wordlessly remind her of the ultimatum he had put to her. "What do you think they would say if they knew how selfish you were being?"

Starlight was baffled by the accusation. "Selfish?"

"You refuse to free them. They, who are your dearest friends. How is that not selfish?"

"I'm not going to be your trained killer, Sombra."

"I never asked you to kill anyone."

"But you will, won't you?"

"In my service, you will do as you are told."

"Which includes killing?"

Sombra didn't so much as bother to sidestep the question. "For those who need to be killed, yes. And believe you me, there are many."

"Those who need to be killed?" Starlight scoffed. "Who are you to make such a decision?"

"The King," Sombra replied bluntly.

"Anyone can wear a crown and call themselves a king. That doesn't give them the right to play grim reaper."

Sombra's posture stiffened. "I do not do what I do for pleasure, I do what I do because it must be done. I have the might to punish the evil plaguing this land, therefor, it is my duty to do so, for he who does not punish evil commands it to be done."

"Might doesn't make right," contended Starlight. "Being stronger than those you are killing doesn't make killing them any less morally bankrupt."

The King was becoming visibly exasperated. "You're attacking a straw pony. You're refuting arguments I have not made. You're either taking my words out of context, or you're not paying attention."

"Then put it into context for me," Starlight challenged him.

Sombra looked at her for a long time before he sighed and said, "I already have, several times, and you just seem to refuse to understand... Very well. Hold to your ideals, just as I shall hold to mine. We're just throwing the same argument back and forth. We'll be here forever if we keep this up." His eyes narrowed slyly. "I would just like to ask you one question, if I may."

The King's sudden capitulation made Starlight suspicious. "Sure," she said carefully, in the way a defendant in court might to a shifty prosecutor.

Sombra gave her a serious look. "You are a mare of peace, yes? I wouldn't go so far as to call you a pacifist, as you seem more than ready to fight for your friends. But killing is where you absolutely draw the line. Am I correct?"

Starlight met his question with a curious nod. What is he getting at?

"I shall submit this to you, then: If the taking of life is such a reprehensible taboo in your eyes, no matter what the reason - why then did you try to kill me?"

"That was..." Starlight Glimmer stole a quick glance at The Princess. The attempt on Sombra's life was Twilight's idea, yet Starlight did not object to it. "You had Fluttershy. We were fighting for our friend," was all she could think of to say.

"Ah, cognitive dissonance." Sombra smiled. "Or do you believe that killing is justifiable when you and only you deem it so? You either suffer from a God complex, or you're a hypocrite. Which is it?"

Starlight Glimmer looked away from him. "I was fighting for Fluttershy," she insisted, though her words came out weak and tremulous. The assassination wasn't her idea, she only went along with it. That was the truth of it, but that excuse seemed even more pathetic than the one she had put forth.

The King placed his hoof under her chin, and he forced her gaze to meet with his. "How fragile, this illusion you cling to called morality."

Aggravated, Starlight Glimmer wordlessly shoved his hoof away.

Sombra frowned. "Now, you're just acting like a spoiled brat."

Starlight had nothing to say to that.

"No one likes being called out on their hypocrisy," The King continued. "No one likes having their views or beliefs challenged. No one likes admitting when their wrong, but every once in a while..." The King fell silent when he heard a rapping at the door. "Come."

The laboratory door opened, and in walked a sentry adorned in the red cloak and black armor of Sombra's Royal Guard. He removed his helm and bowed before he spoke. "My King, the citizens volunteering to be your court witnesses are filling the court yard. Prince Blue Blood and your advisor await you in the throne room."

"And my queen?"

"She's with the volunteers in the courtyard." He bowed again. "She's keeping them entertained until your arrival, your grace. All her idea."

"Entertaining them?" Sombra said with mild amusement.

The sentry smiled. "It seems she's taught those birds of hers some new tricks. The throng seemed quite amused as I was leaving to fetch you. The common folk love her so, your grace."

"Aye, as do we all," The King replied. "Have my advisor lead them all to the throne room. I shall be there shortly."

"Yes, your grace." The sentry bowed, donned his helm, and he was gone.

Sombra gave Starlight one last look of admonishment before he beckoned her to follow."And wipe that glower off your face. You look like a petulant filly that just had her wrist slapped."

Irritated, Starlight acquiesced and followed Sombra to the throne room, sparing her friends one last longing look before she closed the laboratory door behind her."

The King's Justice

Sombra's dark throne was unlike anything Starlight Glimmer could have imagined. Many times she had laid her eyes on the fine throne in Cadence's palace, with its iridescent crystals and ivory wrought frame that glittered like mithril in the multicolored shafts of light filtering through the stain glass windows set in the surrounding walls. She had seen Celestia's broad throne, with its luxurious golden frame and its fine red cushioning of silk and satin. When Starlight Glimmer heard the word 'throne,' it would always evoke images of opulent luxury and regal splendor.

Sombra's throne, however, it was different. It was like something some dark lord straight out of a fantasy novel would be sat upon while barking out commands at his hunched over goblin minions down below. It was not constructed from precious metals nor bedecked with fine rare gemstones, neigh. It was a massive thing, fashioned from a giant block of stone that had been painstakingly chiseled into form and sanded down to a mirror sheen. Scorched blacker than coal and polished with a luster that rivaled the darkest of crystals, it was a great monolith ornate with a fine scarlet tapestry draping down the backrest. But that wasn't the oddest thing about it. Instead of having two thrones to seat The King and Queen respectively, there was only the one. It was broad like a love seat, so that the royal couple could share it.

Even though there was enough space on the throne to accommodate them both comfortably, Fluttershy seemed content upon sitting as close to her husband as she possibly could. So close in fact that their flanks were touching. She looked more like a love struck filly sitting casually with her schoolyard crush than she looked a proper queen with the way her head was resting against him. What was all the more odd was that King Sombra didn't seem to mind. They were there to preside over their court, and yet, there they sat, looking more like a flirtatious couple at a movie theater than administers of justice.

Starlight watched from the throng of onlookers, the 'witnesses to the king's justice' as they were dubbed, and she saw The King raise a hoof for silence. The numerous conversations all around her died down.

"I would like to thank all in attendance, who have selflessly set aside their schedules in order to bear witness to my justice this day," The King announced before looking to his bride, as if to wordlessly prompt her to add something.

"As always, your dedication to your civic duty is appreciated," The Queen intoned. Her voice was disarmingly sweet and innocent, like a child performing the role of a queen in a play than the genuine article. She might have looked more official if she hadn't been using her husband's shoulder as a headrest.

Ethereal Moon was at their side, her ivory coat a stark contrast to The King's dark throne. Sombra gave his adviser a nod, and when the sign was given to her she cleared her throat and shouted in her high girlish voice, "Salute!"

All in attendance, including the guards, clapped a hoof over their breasts with uniform synchronization and lowered their heads. Starlight oscillated at the sudden movement all around her.

Ethereal Moon then shouted, "Pledge!"

In unison, every head raised, their muzzles pointed toward the throne. "Heil to The King and Queen!" The throne room thundered with their collective voices.

Prince Blue Blood was standing next to Starlight. He took up the cry as well, before glancing down at her with a look of mild amusement on that pretty face of his. The puzzled mare could only offer him a shrug and a bemused furrow of her brow in return. She wasn't rehearsed or seasoned in the traditions of Sombra's court, how could she be blamed for not following suit?

Sombra sat back and slid a long sinewy arm around his bride's shoulders. "Madam adviser," The King said, looking more casual than any king in history presiding over his court ever had, "if you would be so kind, let us begin."

Ethereal Moon stepped forward, carrying herself with a proud, dignified look about her. The tiny mare often had to look up in order to meet the eyes of everyone around her, but from the dais, everyone had to look up to meet hers. She probably enjoyed that; being able to look down on others from atop those marble steps must be the highlight of her day.

The adviser cleared her throat as she levitated and unrolled a scroll before her eyes. "First order of business, we have a supplicant, one Mister Evictus. Please step down from the stands and approach the dais, so that The King and Queen may hear your request."

Starlight Glimmer noticed a nervous-looking stallion stepping down from a row of seats at the opposite end of the throne room. He moved slowly as he made for the foot of the dais. The stallion then knelt, bowing his head respectfully. "My liege," he said.

"Rise," The King commanded, and he did. "Now then, Evictus, is it - what is it that you would ask of your king?"

"I... I... Uh...." He swallowed. He was about to speak again, but he instead stalled and cleared his throat.

Sombra continued to wait patiently for him to speak. Somebody somewhere in the courtroom let out a muffled cough.

"F-forgive me, your grace," Stammered the skittish supplicant. "T-this is my f-first time ever speaking directly to you. I cannot accurately put into words what an honor this is."

"You're among friends here, sir," Fluttershy said, smiling. "What would you have of us?"

Stage fright was a demon Fluttershy was all too familiar with, Starlight knew. But it had seemed that The Queen had become an expert at counseling others that shared the same fear she had once struggled with, as her soft spoken words seemed to give the stallion some courage. "Uh... Well, you see... It seems that my wife is... She's with foal."

"Oh, congratulations!" The Queen beamed, placing a hoof over her belly to indicate her own pregnancy. "Your baby and mine will be around the same age. I'm thinking they should be good friends."

The stallion named Evictus smiled at that. "I would love nothing more, my queen. You honor me, really you do."

"How far along is your wife?" Fluttershy asked with genuine interest.

"Well, she's just now starting to show, so if I were to guess, I'd say--"

Sombra cleared his throat loudly. When attention was redirected toward him he said, "Yes, congratulations are in order, but surely, you're not here just to tell me that. You're here as a supplicant, are you not? Ask what you will of me, and be quick about it."

"I... yes, your grace. A thousand pardons." Sombra's mild tone seemed to make the stallion nervous all over again. "My wife and I share a modest dwelling. Too modest, if I am to be perfectly honest. I would like to request a loan, so that I may have an extension added to our home."

"A loan?" Sombra said. "How much are you asking?"

The stallion chewed at his lip before he spoke. "Three hundred, your grace. For resources and labor."

"I'm guessing by three hundred, you mean in gold?"

"Aye, your grace. For the sake of convenience. Silver or copper equaling the amount of three hundred gold pieces would be too difficult to carry, too hard to keep track of, and too easy to steal."

"Ethey?" The King prompted.

The adviser was on top of her duties, it had seemed. The moment she had heard the amount the stallion was pleading for she went right to work crunching figures on her trusty clipboard. "I have an interest rate written out, Mister Evictus. Is twenty three percent acceptable to you?"

"Twenty three?" The stallion scratched his head. "Madam adviser, forgive me, but that's a little steep. My wife and I are but humble grocers."

"A thankless profession," The King offered understandingly. "But a necessary one. How does seven and ten sound to you?"

Ethereal Moon whipped her head around with a look of wide-eyed astonishment on her face. "Sire, the treasury will hardly profit from--" The King cut her off when he gestured for her to be silent, and then there was nothing to be said.

"Seventeen?" the stallion said thoughtfully. "I was hoping for maybe thirteen?"

"Fife and ten. I'll go no lower. And I should not have to warn you of the consequences of a late payment, Mister Evictus. Such a modest interest rate will come with hefty penalties."

"Fifteen. That's good. Yeah, I think I can work with that." The supplicant bowed his head. "Thank you, your grace."

Sombra gave the adviser a nod. "Make a record for the loan. I'll add my signature to it later." Ethey flashed him a disapproving look to indicate that the interest rate was ill advised, but she did as she was told. The King watched as she stamped a sheet of parchment with a watermark before he returned his attention to the stallion at the bottom of the dais. "Report to the treasury on the morrow to pick up your money and sign the proper documentation for the loan agreement. You are dismissed."

"My liege, thank you." The soon-to-be father's bow was as deep as it was grateful. Sombra nodded in response before he waved for a guard to escort him to his gates outside.

Ethereal Moon looked again at her scroll once they were gone. "Next, we have an accuser and an acusee. The plaintiff claims he was assaulted by the defendant over a game of dice last night, when he refused to honor a bet he had lost. He wishes to press charges. Among the witnesses to the king's justice, there stand several who were verified to be present at the time and place where the crime had occurred." Ethereal Moon then looked up from her scroll. "Testifiers, step forward, if you would please."

Starlight watched as several mares and stallions stepped out of the crowd. A guard directed them to make a parallel cue to the throne's steps.

Sombra frowned. "The accuser and the accused, bring them before me."

One of The King's guards brought a stallion down from the stands. He seemed to need help walking. His face was a nasty sight to behold, with a broken nose crooked and angled unnaturally, several glaring swollen knots on his head, and an eye that was so black and swollen it was sealed shut. He shambled with a hitch in his gate, whenever his weight was transferred to his bandaged up foreleg.

Starlight Glimmer felt for him, the poor guy. A hospital would have been a better place for him than a court room.

Two sentries of the town guard were bringing in a stallion from the arched entrance at the end of the throne room. He had a grimace on his face, as if he would have rather been anywhere else in the world other than where he was. His forelegs were fettered with chains that were just long enough to allow him to toddle along with awkward jerky paces.

The injured stallion all covered in welts and bruises and the stallion clad in iron fetters were brought to the foot of the steps and positioned between the testifiers and the throne.

"Now, then..." The King cast a stringent gaze down upon them. "I will have the truth out of both of you. You will both be given a chance to speak. If any one of you speaks without leave or interrupts the other while they're giving testimony, you will be held for contempt of the throne and sentenced to the dungeon for a time no greater or less than twenty four hours. This hearing will then resume after you've learned proper courtroom etiquette. Do you understand what I just told you?"

Plaintiff and defendant both nodded as they vocalized their agreement.

The King then began a grueling round of questioning for the both of them. Sombra's irritation became visible when their stories didn't quite intertwine and an impasse was reached. That was when he called upon the testifiers for collaboration.

To Starlight Glimmer's understanding, the defendant and the plaintiff had been gambling over dice, but when the plaintiff lost he accused the defendant of cheating and refused to pay. Threats and oaths were exchanged from both sides before the assailant finally launched himself at his victim and assaulted him. The defendant had apparently gone so far as to break a wooden chair over the dazed stallion's foreleg after he had knocked him off his hooves. That was when a few tavern patrons got involved and restrained the attacker while others ran to call for the town guard.

"I was at the Prancing Pegasus last night," The King said.

"As was I," put in Fluttershy curiously. "When exactly did this event transpire?"

One of the guards who had escorted the fettered stallion through the throne room cleared his throat before he spoke up. "It happened hours after you both left, my queen. Around midnight, if I recall correctly."

"Were you one of the arresting officers?" Fluttershy asked him.

"I was," confirmed the sentry, who wore the silver armor and indigo cloak emblazoned with the sigil of the town guard.

"I do not take assault lightly," Sombra finally said. "Nor do I take kindly to a stallion that does not honor his debts." Sombra's gaze settled over the plaintiff. "May I ask how it was that you had stumbled upon the conclusion that your attacker was cheating?"

The plaintiff rubbed the swell under his eye. "I don't care how lucky a stallion is, my king. No one rolls two sevens three times in a row."

"It's a possibility," The King argued.

"Aye," conceded the plaintiff. "But what conclusion am I to gather from someone who refuses to show me his dice after a hot winning streak?"

"You asked to see the dice, and he refused you?"

The injured stallion nodded. "I refused to pay up until I got a look at his dice. I told him as much, and that's when he started throwing his hooves."

"Suspicious indeed." The King then turned to the defendant with an accusatory scowl. "What do you have to say for yourself? This poor stallion looks as if he was put through the gauntlet. What excuse could you possibly have for committing such an atrocious act of barbarism?"

"They were my lucky dice, my king," the defendant insisted. "I was afraid he would try to steal them from me. I didn't want to resort to violence, but he made me. I was protecting my property is all. Would you prosecute someone for defending themselves against a mugger?"

"Did you just compare me to a mugger?" The plaintiff spat. "Who in bloody tartarus steals a pair of dice?"

"You, mayhaps?" Quipped the defendant. "You envied me for my winning streak that night. You probably thought you could have done for a bit of luck yourself."

"Enough, you two," The King raised a hoof for silence. "Do we have the dice in question?"

"We confiscated his belongings when we made the arrest, my king," announced one of the town guards.

"Good, bring the dice to me. We're going to get down to the bottom of this."

The guard ascended the dais with a velvet sack cinched with a golden drawstring and presented its contents. Sombra looked down at the dice suspiciously as he rolled them around in his hoof. "I see nothing out of the ordinary," he commented. "Just common dice. Suspicious how this could warrant such savagery."

"Cast them, my king," advised the adviser. "I would like to see these 'lucky dice' in action."

Sombra gave the dice another look before he unceremoniously flung them down the dais. The little cubes tumbled and flipped and spun as they rolled down the steps, before landing with the sevens facing up. "Well now, this appears to be my lucky day," The King mused before he turned his attention to the defendant.

The stallion looked away. Starlight could see how nervous he was becoming. "Just as I said, my lord. They're lucky..."

"I am no petty lord," The King informed him. "I am your king, and you will learn your proper courtesies when addressing me in my court."

"Yes, my lor-- er, sire," the defendant stammered as one of the guards was collecting the dice near the foot of the steps.

"Bring those dice back to me," said The King. "My queen would like to have a roll as well."

"I've never diced before," Fluttershy objected. "I'll just embarrass myself."

"Nothing to it," Ethey said. "You just toss em. Or roll em, throw em, drop em, whatever. It's not like there's any real technique to it."

"I guess I could give it a try." The Queen took the dice from the guard and sent them tumbling along the ground. They landed at Ethereal Moon's hoofs with the sevens facing up. Fluttershy's face lit up when she saw what she had rolled and clapped excitedly. "Oh, this is fun!"

The adviser adjusted her glasses as she looked down at the perfect sevens gleaming up at her. "Lucky dice, indeed," she said before she decided to try her luck as well. She collected them, rolled them around in her hooves thoroughly, then gave them a toss. And once again, sevens. She looked up at The King, cocking a sceptical eyebrow. "Too lucky, if you'd ask me."

Sombra gathered them up and inspected them. The tip of his horn twinkled, and then the dice strobed reactively to his magical probe with a harsh crackle of static. "Enchanted!" The King spat the word as if it was a curse.

"They are?" The defendant said stupidly. "I honestly had no idea those dice were hexed. I had just assumed they favored me. I bought them from a traveling gypsy. I mean, look at me, I'm an earth pony, I can't enchant things."

A big burly earth stallion who's cutie mark was a blacksmith's hammer stepped forward from the throng of witnesses. His biceps were as large as cantaloupes and he had a jaw like a cinder block. The deep wrinkles above his scowling brow were as craggy as the side of a mountain. "Bastard!" he bellowed. "You skinned me alive with those cheater's dice of yours!" He looked up at The King and Queen and demanded, "Show him no mercy. When I couldn't pay a bet I had lost to him, he actually proposed that I let him have a go at my sister as payment instead. I ran him off with an axe handle when he did that, the disgusting pig!" He then spat on the ground.

Other demands for recompense were being thrown out, and soon the throne room's walls echoed with the numerous voices of those the defendant had presumably wronged in the past. In a small village everyone was like to know each other, and it had seemed that the shifty gambler had diced with the majority of the court's occupants at one time or another.

A livid mare who was stationed directly behind Starlight Glimmer cried out, "I want back everything you won from me!" She was so close to her, the demand set her ears to ringing.

Another burly earth stallion with a wooden log for a cutie mark stepped up and distinctly shouted, "I'm a woodcutter by trade, and unlike the smith, my axe handle has a stone wedge at the end of it. You better watch your back once you leave the palace, you slimy little worm!"

The witnesses around Starlight Glimmer fed on each other's outrage like a frenzy of sharks with the scent of blood in the water. Threats of violence and other crass forms of retribution were being hurled until a few of them looked like they were ready to charge toward the defendant to throttle him.

Several guards formed an armored wall between the witnesses and the defendant with flails drawn should the need to protect him arise.

The King finally raised his hoof for order, and when he didn't get it, he slammed his mailed hoof down on the arm of his stone chair. Fluttershy covered her ears as the thunderous impact sent a wave of kinetic force reverberating beneath everyones' hooves. An abrupt silence followed, quick as a sudden death. "The next to speak out of turn will be held in contempt!" Sombra roared, sweeping a commanding hoof out to indicate everyone in attendance. "You will be humble in my court, or you will get humbled, do I make myself clear!"

The mob cowed back with their heads lowered like a pack of chastised puppies. The King nodded to the guards that had rushed to the cheater's defense, and they sheathed ther weapons and dispersed to resume their stations.

Scowling, The King returned his attention to the defendant. "And you, how dare you lie to me, in my palace, in my court, before our people." His voice had become a snarl. "It is a grievous crime to lie to a king, sir. A lesson you shall learn by the time this day is done." He looked at the the plaintiff and inquired, "How much was your bet?"

The bruised and battered stallion glared at his assailant. "Five silver pieces, your majesty."

"Very well," The King said, turning to the defendant. "You will pay the sum of five silver pieces to your victim as recompense, and you will pay the tavern owner an additional silver piece for that stool you broke. And for your assault and your dubious displays of disrespect and dishonesty in my court, you will be shipped off to the mines to spend a moon's turn doing hard labor."

The accused offered an apologetic shrug. "I've naught silver to pay, sire. I'm broke, I swear."

Then how is it that you have money to gamble? Starlight thought.

Sombra was most likely thinking the same thing. His jaw tightened. "Very well," he said calmly. "If you can not pay in silver, you shall pay by way of the lash. Guards, escort this one to the pillory in the plaza square. Six lashes, make it so."

"Wait!" The accused pleaded as two guards seized his fettered forelegs, his voice suddenly high and frantic. "Anything but that! I-I lied. I have silver. Six pieces, yes? I have it! I'll pay, I'll pay!"

Even Fluttershy was starting to become irritated. "Sir!" She shouted, in more of a pleading tone than a demanding one. "Please, you're making this harder on yourself. Just pay the stallion and the tavern owner the silver you owe them and serve your sentence."

"Waste not your pity on this one," The King said, his voice deepening in a growl as he leaned forward in his throne to address the accused. "I can't believe you just lied to me again. I'm going to have to make an honest stallion out of you, I see that now. For your crimes you will pay the sum of five silver pieces to the stallion you attacked, a silver piece to the tavern owner who's property you so wantonly destroyed, and you shall spend the next sixty days doing hard labor in the mines. And for your numerous lies right to my face you will receive eight lashes. And not another word, or I shall have another lash added for every one. Gods and Celestia and all the forces of nature help you if you ever dare to lie to me in my court again. Guards, remove him from my sight."

Starlight gaped as everyone around her smiled and murmured with approval. She was stepping forward to let her objection be heard but Blue Blood extended his foreleg to block her path. When she looked up at him he wordlessly shook his head in a cautioning manner. Feeling helpless, she watched as the procession went on.

"Please, sire, I'll pay!" the accused was wailing as he was being dragged away.

"Yes, you will!" The King promised him. "That's twelve lashes now. Guards, muzzle him, before his mouth does him another disservice."

One of the members of Sombra's town guard drew a length of cord out from under his indigo cloak, and the other locked a heavily muscled foreleg about his neck to keep him still as the string was bound tight about his muzzle.

The accused was letting out a muffled whine as he was being taken away.

Sombra glared after them until they were gone. He then looked down and seemed to notice the way the plaintiff was rubbing at the throbbing angry welt below his swollen eye. The King closed his eyes, breathed a calming breath, and removed the edge from his voice. "Do your contusions pain you?"

"A little," the stallion admitted. "What a piece of work that guy is. Cheats at dice, demands that I pay, then gets violent when I don't. Here's hoping the mines sort him out."

The King hummed in agreement. "I'll have a guard escort you to my apothecary. She'll mix a poultice for those bruises. And the doctor should have a look at that leg. Try not to put anymore weight on it than you have to." He looked to another one of his guards and instructed, "Take him to have his wounds treated. Share the burden of his weight if you must; I don't like the way his leg is swelling beneath those bandages."

The palace guard clad all in black armor and crimson cloak placed his hoof over his breast and lowered his head before he gingerly escorted the limping stallion from the throne room. The conversation they shared as they were leaving went along the lines of:

"It's better to walk on three legs than it is to just limp on it."

"I try, but the bouncing motion makes it hurt something awful."

"That'll change once you have a proper cast to hold it in place. Winter Lilac mixes a brew so potent it will make you forget your leg is even there. Just mind what you say around her. She's got a tongue like a cat o'nine tails, that one."

"And what about the stallion Sombra just sentenced to be flogged?" Starlight muttered. "Will he get any medical attention?"

"He will be cleaned and tended to as well," Blue Blood said, keeping his eyes forward. "Though, I doubt he'll be given anything to dull his pain. His lesson would hardly be effective if he didn't suffer, so Sombra believes."

"Lesson? What lesson could he possibly learn from having the flesh flayed from his back - publicly, no less?"

Blue Blood gave a helpless shrug. "You say that is if you think I'm in favor of it. I'm not, but it's not like I have a say in how Sombra decides to punish his own subjects for their wrong doings. In his defense, he'll treat you humanely, so long as you don't lie to him. Not a fortnight past Sombra sentenced a stallion to hang for killing his neighbor in a spat over some girl. The accused swore up and down that it was an accident. How somebody can 'accidentally' break into a stallion's home and smother him with a pillow was beyond Sombra's reckoning, so he named him a liar as well as a murderer, and he sentenced him to the gallows."

"But Celestia abolished capital punishment almost a hundred years ago."

"Celestia abolished," Blue Blood said, emphasizing his aunt's name to remind Starlight of where she was. "This place, this New Haven, it's not just a different nation. It's like a different world entirely. Some of these citizens of his are former cut throats and ne'er-do-wells. They see the life Sombra is creating for his people, and a lot of them want in on it. I cannot fault them for abandoning the frozen war torn wastes for want of a better life. However, old habits tend to die hard, and King Sombra is nothing if not compelled to cull his citizenry of those who will not abide by his laws."

Starlight Glimmer would have said something else, but she realized Sombra was looking directly at her. He can hear me, even when I'm whispering, she remembered.

"Next order of business," Ethey suddenly said, stealing The King's attention. "We have a bounty hunter who wishes to collect on his latest catch." Her expression soured when she announced the name, as if just speaking it left a foul taste in her mouth. "Mister Shantae... please approach the dais."

The swaggering bounty hunter dancingly descended from the stand. He was tall and lean, and might have been handsome if a piece of his bottom lip and his left ear wasn't missing. Slung over his chest was a leather harness, and Starlight Glimmer noted the empty sheath secured to his hind leg, where a guard must have confiscated some sort of weapon from him before he entered the throne room. From the way the sheathe angled at the center it was most likely some kind of curved short sword or kukri. His cutie mark was a bullseye. Starlight could only wonder what that implied.

"Shantae, it is good to see you." The King greeted the stallion as if he was an old friend. "Brought me some gifts, have you?"

"Dat Ah did, mah king," The bounty hunter sang in the thick cajun drawl of the Equestrian Fire Swamps. He bowed in a very graceful yet flamboyant manner. "Sha, my queen, do da eyes o' poor Shantae' deceive him, or is you gettin' more beautiful every time he sees you?"

Fluttershy giggled. "It's very nice to see you again, Shantae. It has been too long."

The King said, "Your eyes deceive you not, Shantae. She grows ever more beautiful by the second. But enough pleasantries, you've brought me a gift, yes?"

"Dat Ah did. Just ask yer boy, here." The bounty hunter indicated an approaching guard with a bloodstained roughspun sack in his hoof.

"Three heads, your majesty," The guard confirmed. "I've already sent someone to pull their posters from the bounty board."

Starlight could feel her breakfast shifting in her stomach. Corporal punishment, capitol punishment, and now freelance killers and severed heads... This just keeps getting better.

"Their identities have been confirmed as well," The Guard went on. "One Loki of Foxhelm Harbor. One Cassius of The Winding Hook. And one Jonquel-The-Mad of The Frozen Shore. All high ranking members of the griffon pirates plaguing the eastern coast."

The throne room became a cacophony of hushed exclamations. The Queen's eyes were wide as she brought her hooves up to cover her gaping mouth. Even the guards were trading uneasy looks.

Starlight wasn't sure what to make of the confusion all around her. "Griffon pirates?"

"Food is a scarce thing to find in this region," Blue Blood explained. "But not to the griffon pirates of the hook. They reave and pillage the villages along the east coast."

"How does that make them any different from the bandits?" Starlight Glimmer asked. "You mention the inland brigands and nobody bats an eye. But talk of these pirates and everyone goes pale."

Blue Blood's face darkened. "Their favorite plunder is Equines."

"For the slave trade, right?"

"No."

"For what, then?"

"You can dub a killer a butcher, but to these griffons the title is quite literal," Blue Blood explained, his eyes shifting uneasily toward her. "Food," he repeated, "is a scarce thing in this region."

Starlight's mouth hung open when she took his meaning.

"Griffons," Blue Blood said. "Half eagle. Half Lion. The last thing they are are vegetarians, if you put some thought to it. The ones you're used to associating with back home have made peace with other life forms and are raised in an environment that shuns the act of hunting. For these ferals, however, everyone and anyone is fair game to them, even each other when they're desperate. It is said that they take their prisoners deep below the decks of their ships, where they slaughter, flay, and cook them."

Does sanity even exist in this place? Starlight felt a cold chill run along her spine. She had always thought the concept of 'evil' as superficial and abstract, with a few exceptions. Sombra being one of them. But now she was truly starting to wonder. "It's like something out of a horror movie."

"Indeed."

"This is fantastic," The King announced, looking down at the heads from his throne. It was the happiest Starlight Glimmer had ever seen him. "Not many have the stones to go hoof-to-talon with these demons. Bravo to you, sir; you've done fine work."

"Yer gonna make ol' Shantae blush," the swashbuckling earth pony said, smiling through a brown jagged ruin of broken teeth that was his mouth. "Now, if you don't mind, Shantae would like to get paid. Shantae has a long night of boozing and whoring ahead of him."

Starlight Glimmer sighed. It seemed as if the north may have been short on sanity, but there was certainly no scarcity of degenerates.

"You earned the money, it is no concern of mine what you do with it." Sombra looked down to give his adviser a nod. "Madam adviser, write up the stipend. The faster we get him out of here, the faster he can get back to sanitizing the blight from our world."

"Yes, sire." And Ethey immediately went to work. She drew a rectangular book of notes from a compartment in her clipboard, and tore one of the pages free before she began to write on it.

Shantae smiled that ugly, broken smile of his. "Miss Ethey, how's da weather up dere, sha?"

Ethey gave him a look as she worked the pen around on the stipend with her telepathy. "Cloudy with a chance of no means no. How's the view from down there?"

Shantae winked. "Very beautiful."

The adviser pretended to double check her work as her cheeks flushed.

"He hits on her incessantly," Blue Blood explained. "Those two are really quite funny to watch."

"Yikes." Starlight Glimmer couldn't help but pity poor Ethey. "What is he, some kind of lolita fetishist?"

"Ethey can be charming in her own little way," The prince said, frowning, as if remembering every witty insult, quip and sally he had ever suffered at the adviser's hooves. "When she's not acting like a complete bitch."

Shantae looked shrewdly at the figures scrawled on the stipend after the adviser relinquished it to him. He began to hum thoughtfully.

"What's the matter?" Ethey said. "That's thirty gold pieces for each head; that's a pretty hefty sum."

"Shantae is thinking he deserves a bonus for all his cunning and bravery."

"You're not getting another damn copper, you greedy magpie. Ninety gold pieces is more than a vagabond like you could spend in half a year."

Shantae flashed her a roguish grin. "Shantae does not want money. Before Shantae stands something far more beautiful dan any shiny metal."

"Yeah, no," the adviser said flatly.

"Oh, come now, petite. A romantic moonlit dinner for two, eh? A little song, a little dance?"

Sombra cleared his throat in an obtrusive manner. "Mister Shantae, I appreciate the work you've done for me, but mind your place. My adviser is not some lady of the evening to be propositioned in such a way."

The adviser harrumphed in a very haughty fashion. She turned on her heals and ascended the steps to reassume her place by the throne. "Thank you, your grace," she said, throwing the spurned bounty hunter a sassy flick of her tail as she strode away from him.

Shantae gave a defeated yet amiable smile. "Shantae apologizes if he has given offense, your grace. And to da lovely adviser, Shantae would never think of her as anything less dan de classy lady dat she is."

"Mister Shantae, I think you might need a girl to explain this to you," Fluttershy clarified, speaking softly yet firmly. "When you boast of bedding prostitutes, and then turn around and start flirting with the first mare you see in the same breath, it doesn't exactly speak well of your intentions or your assumptions."

Shantae looked as if he had just had a revelation dropped on him. "Oh, of course!" he laughed an idiotic laugh. "That was insensitive of Shantae." He then beckoned to the adviser with an outstretched hoof. "Shantae apologizes a thousand times over, petite. Come, come and give Shantae a hug. Let him make it all right."

Ethereal Moon slid her glasses up the bridge of her muzzle. "That'd be a hard no."

"Sir," The King finally broke in, "if we've no other business to discuss, you're dismissed. As always, you can have your stipend honored at the treasury, and you can reclaim your weapons at the gates."

"And I know this might be hard for you," Ethey added, "but try not to commit a blatant act of sexual harassment on your way there. If you make it even half the way I'll be impressed."

"You have Shantae's word, and Shantae is a stallion of his word, my petite fleur," he assured the adviser with a dip and a bow, before he turned and allowed a guard to escort him from the throne room.

What a strange, strange stallion, Starlight Glimmer observed, watching the bounty hunter stride down the rush with a motion that was half a dance and half a saunter.

The day seemed to drag on and on and on. Starlight had counted seven hearings now, with some being more eventful than others: Sombra had granted a loan to a supplicant, severely punished a cheating, gambling brute. And rewarded a loathsome lout of a bounty hunter for his wetwork.

He had also pardoned a cutpurse at Fluttershy's urging, as the offender was young and the extent of the money she had stolen didn't exceed a significant value. But Sombra did not let her off without giving her a stringent warning. The tongue lashing the girl had received left her in tears when she was being escorted from the throne room.

Sombra charged a stallion for vandalism and ordered him to pay a costly fee of forty silver pieces. When the vandal could not pay in currency he was ordered to work for the owner of the property he had destroyed for two moons without pay. He would do so under the watch of a town guard to insure his cooperation.

A youth who was apparently a repeat offender of various misdemeanors was caught stealing a fine sable garment from the town tailor. He was given the choice of being shipped off to the mines or signing up for military service. The mines would have undoubtedly been the shorter sentence, but the youth opted for the latter, as he had informed The King that there was a wealth of opportunities in the military, but in the mines there would be none. Sombra agreed and commended the boy for his choice before having him delivered to a stallion named Clash Steelsong for orientation.

The seventh and last hearing was a land dispute between two squabbling stallions. They would not stop arguing when Sombra tried to hear them out. They kept insulting each other, and talking over one another, and at one point one of them physically attacked the other. It took a couple harsh smacks with a guard's flail to separate them, and even then their comportments did not improve. Sombra had had enough and sentenced them to the dungeon, where they would remain locked away until they learned to conduct themselves properly in the throne room.

The day was growing old, and the sun was beginning to dip behind the mountains. Owls and frost bats were stirring in their branches, and ice wargs were leaving their dens. The wind was skirling, and the temperature was dropping. The town guards were turning in their armor and weapons and cloaks at the garrison while the night guard was just beginning to don theirs. Night was gathering, and so their watch had begun.

Starlight Glimmer had been looking forward to supper. It amazed her how standing around doing nothing in a courtroom all day could build such an appetite.

The truffles were thick, battered, fried, and stuffed with cheese. The dishes of sweet and sour plum sauce that had been served to dip them in sent chills down her spine when the flavor first danced on her tongue. And the cups of fermented honey wine that was served to her was unlike any beverage she had ever tasted. Mead, it was called. She couldn't get enough of the stuff. She was well in to her fourth cup now.

Similar dishes were served to the others who had volunteered to be witnesses to the king's justice that day. She had learned that The King feasted those who attended his court with a free dinner, as a way to express his gratitude. Sitting at The King's high table, looking over the court volunteers and palace staff enjoying their evening meal, it was the first time Starlight Glimmer could recall entertaining the notion that Sombra was generous. Or perhaps that was just the honey wine doing the thinking for her.

She decided that after she finished her cup she would stick to water, as much as it pained her to do so. The mead was so good. Her head was beginning to swim, and It helped her take her mind off of all the things she had seen and heard in The King's court that day. All the gut-wrenching talk of whippings, hangings, cannibalistic pirates, and freelance killers seemed like a dream to her now that she had a belly full. Not to mention the fact that she now had two days left to choose from one of the decisions Sombra had left her, and the stress of whether or not Fluttershy's plan to free them all would actually work. But, Starlight Glimmer's head was buzzing, and none of that seemed all too critical at the moment.

She downed the last drop of her fourth cup, set it down, looked at it for a long time, shrugged, and then had Joji pour her a fifth. She knew she would hate herself in the morning, but she had realized there was solace in being drunk, if only for one night. For the first time since she had awakened below Sombra's palace, she wasn't afraid.

"Thanks, kid," she said to the boy, looking at her reflection as it shimmered and rippled upon the surface of that delicious liquid gold in her cup.

"No problem!" Joji said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. "Can I get you anything else, Miss Starlight? Dessert, perhaps?"

Starlight looked at the ginger pegasus. The boy couldn't have been any older than twelve, or perhaps thirteen. He was blushing a hue redder than his mane, and his smile seemed rather timid if not awkward. It had appeared that the young steward had developed a fancy for her. Or perhaps that was just the mead making her think that. "Some more of those fried stuffed mushroom things would be nice," she finally said, after giving the question some thought.

Springing to her request with an alacrity that was almost comical, Joji grabbed a large spoon and transferred heaps upon heaps of steaming hot truffles to her plate from an iron serving pot.

"That's enough!" Starlight said, almost laughing. "I don't think I can eat that much."

"Would you like me to take some back?" Joji asked.

"No, it's okay. I'll just try to work with what you gave me here, thank you." She smiled at him in a way she hoped wasn't sending the wrong signals. The last thing she wanted to do was fill the boy's heart and head with false hopes, if her assumption about him was correct.

"Is there anything else I can get you - more mead perhaps?"

Smiling, Starlight lifted her cup and lightly shook the fluid around inside to wordlessly remind him that he had just filled it.

"Boy," said Blue Blood from across the table. He was gesturing at a dish. "Would you mind cutting me a slice of that fig cobbler? I've never had fig cobbler before. I'm intrigued."

Joji frowned at him, as if to say, 'Get it yourself.' But when he looked again at Starlight Glimmer, she tilted her head in The Prince's direction to urge him to do his duty. The serving boy sighed and reluctantly moved on to serve Blue Blood his precious fig cobbler. "Just call me if you need anything," he imparted to her.

Starlight tipped the rim of her fifth cup against her lips, now that she had finally been left alone to drink in peace.

"It could be worse," Blue Blood was saying to Ethereal Moon, as Joji was serving him his cobbler. "You could catch the eye of a lecherous, greedy, morally bereft, mare-hungry pervert." He then pretended to scratch his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, wait, Shantae is literally all those things. Sorry, love."

"Hey, you know what I'm thinking of doing tonight after supper?" Ethey responded. "Visiting the spa."

Blue Blood pretended to ignore that, though he couldn't quite conceal his frown well enough.

"All this incessant bickering," Sombra interjected between bites. "You two should just get married already."

"What, me to Ethey?" Blue Blood chuckled. "Everyone would think I was marrying the flower girl."

The adviser skewered a truffle on her plate, and before she popped it into her mouth she tittered and said, "I'm not a homewrecker, besides. I wouldn't want to get in the way of the intimate relationship you already have with your reflection."

An unbidden laugh broke from Starlight's lips. And when Blue Blood shot her a displeased look from behind the silken handkerchief he was using to wipe his mouth, she realized she truly had drunk too much. It was either that, or she was beginning to show the first stages of madness from all the happenings she had been enduring as of late. But then she realized Fluttershy was laughing, too. Even Sombra got a little mordant chuckle at the prince's expense.

The prince finally sighed and allowed himself a smile. "I'm as modest as they come. It's just, If your reflection was half as beautiful as mine you'd understand."

Ethereal Moon was taking a deep draught from her mug. When she put it down she wiped her mouth and said, "It's half as tall, at least."

There was another gale of laughter from everyone at Sombra's high table. And despite her captive friends sleeping below the palace, despite fluttershy's shaky clandestine plan to rescue them, despite her own captivity, despite the ultimatum she faced, and despite everything in between, Starlight Glimmer was laughing the loudest.

This Is War

The ship was anchored just off the northeastern coast of the peninsula, a piece of rocky headland that stretched out for several miles before rounding about and curving inward, for which the coastal region known as 'The Winding Hook' got its name. The ship was named The Black Basilisk, the pride of the griffon pirates' ten ship fleet. It was a massive galleon, lined with fifteen cannon holes port and starboard, a pneumatic ballista mounted at its stern, and long masts that stretched toward the sky. Her sails were black as night, and emblazoned on each one was a white basilisk skull with two cutlasses clashing beneath them. It would have been suicide to fly The Black Basilisk's sails anywhere else, for Celestia's navy was vigilant, and her commanders had a reputation for sinking pirate ships on sight without so much as giving quarter a passing thought. But this was the peninsula, and her coast belonged to the carnivorous griffon pirates.

The Black Basilisk felt solid under Rozo's paws and talons as he landed near the bow. It felt good to have the deck of his ship beneath him again. It had been a long flight from the inland, and he was looking forward to relaxing in his cabin with a strong drink and a hot steak in his belly. Or perhaps some ribs, if there were any left. Ribs were his favorite, but they were also the favorite of everyone else in his crew.

Rozo paused momentarily to survey the southern sky from the bow. The air was chilly, the sky was a deep grey, and the darker clouds looming in the distance were slashing the tempestuous firmament with white and yellow bolts of lightening. Rozo then felt the deck beneath him rumble as a low growl rolled throughout the sky. A sudden gust of wind threatened to give his hat to the sea, but he snatched it back with cat-quick reflexes and reclaimed it. Storm's approaching, he thought, irritated that no one had thought to take down the sails yet. It would behoove the crew to lower them before the gales reached the ship. His captain was in mourning, and the last thing she needed was for the masts to snap, or for the powerful winds to break them of their anchor and dash them against the inward curve of the hook.

The pirate informed a passing subordinate on deck that the sails needed to be taken down, to which the griffon replied with a halfhearted "Aye, sir," which came out as half a groan and half a sigh. The salute he gave was compliant enough, but Rozo could feel it turning into a vulgar gesture the moment his back was to him. His duties prompted him to ignore the insolent little shit for the time being, so he made a mental note to beat some respect into him later.

Rozo knocked on the door to the cabin's quarters, and when the voice on the other side bid him entry, he gripped the dark iron ring and pulled the heavy slab open. The sound the hinges made was grading. The salty ocean air had long since caked them with a layer of rust, which made them scream in protest every time they were disturbed.

Captain Betha was a female griffon of middling age and height. She wasn't at all hard to look at with her honey-colored eyes and slender frame, which was usually hidden beneath the folds of her velvet red coat lined with golden buttons. It opened just above mid-breast to reveal the white satin scarf beneath her collar. The longer feathers on her head drooped with the weight of the tiny golden bells at the ends of them, and her beak was thrice pierced with golden studs that shimmered in the light of the candle near her. Gold was her favorite fashion accessory, and she wore it well. The color complimented her eyes.

"Report," was the only word of greeting Captain Betha had for Rozo as he entered her quarters. She was shooting him an impatient scowl from behind her lacquered wooden table that could curdle milk. Betha was a beautiful Griffon, especially when she smiled, but that gorgeous smile of hers had been nonexistent since her special one had been taken from her. Discovering the headless body of her favorite concubine had left her with an implacable rage and a thirst for revenge that soured her disposition toward anyone unfortunate enough to cross paths with her.

"Yes, ma'am," Rozo responded. He took a moment to think of the best way to convey the information he had been gathering for the past thirteen days. None of it was good news.

"Well?" Betha said impatiently, drumming the points of her talons on the table in front of her.

Rozo knew she wouldn't hesitate to use those razer sharp talons on him if he delayed any longer. He cleared his throat and managed to find his words. "Ma'am," he began, "I've managed to track down the killer of your..." He almost let the word 'concubine' slip, but he knew Cassius was so much more than that to his captain. She might have even made him her husband if she hadn't found the concept of monogamy so unpalatable.

Captain Betha turned away from him in a vain attempt to hide the tear that was beginning to well in the corner of her eye. "Just say his name, you idiot!"

"Yes, my captain!" Rozo responded immediately. It's been thirteen days, and her wounds are still fresh. Rozo had to avert his eyes. It felt as if the emotional state his captain was in was something not meant for his eyes to witness. "Right. Cassius. I tracked his killer down. As you suspected, it was the work of a bounty hunter. An earth pony named Shantae."

Captain Betha's eyes narrowed. "Shantae," she growled the name as if she despised the very taste of it. She fingered one of the golden studs in her beak and said, "Have you been following him? Did you learn who put the bounty on Cassius's head?"

"I did, and I have," Rozo reported. "I managed to track him back to The King's territory, which was where he turned in his bounty."

"Sombra again!" Betha's talon clenched into an iron-hard fist and slammed it down on the table. "I'm sick of hearing that name. Why hasn't somebody taken that bastard out already?"

Rozo shrugged awkwardly, apologetic that he didn't have an answer for her.

King Sombra had become somewhat of a boogyman to the inland brigands since he had begun his bloody campaign some six moons ago. The pirates of the hook, however, never considered him a threat to their operations. He was seen as just another would-be conquerer that would rise and fall within the turn of a fortnight, like so many of his predecessors before him. But every day seemed to bring new songs of his conquest, and he was building a reputation that was now causing once-fearless clans and bandit factions to think twice before raiding or plundering his territories. The King was known for mercilessly slaughtering any who opposed him, and enacting swift retribution upon any group who besieged his people. The inland brigands were now migrating north in search of sanctuary and new pillaging grounds, while others were laying down their arms and surrendering their land in hopes of joining him. His army as well as his reach was growing by the day, and that was beginning to disquiet the seafaring brigands of the coast. If this King Sombra were to build a navy, he might become a problem for them as well.

"It was this king who posted the bounty on Cassius, madam captain. I'm sorry to have to be the one to report this to you, but that swine Shantae was well rewarded for his butchery. He's also offed Jonquel-The-Mad, and he went through Foxhelm Harbor to knick Loki short a head as well. He got to them before I started following him, though. I'm guessing Cassius was the last one on his hitlist."

The captain looked at him for a long time before she finally rested in her seat, her claws digging deep lines into the arms of her chair as she slid back. "This self-appointed king," she finally said, "it's about time someone put an end to him. He's overstayed his welcome. The one who put the bounty on Cassius, as well as the bounty hunter himself. I want them both. I'll mount their heads above the crows nest for the gulls to shit on. Do you have anything more to report?"

"I do, in fact," said Rozo. "It seems this king has a couple of concubines of his own. One of them, pegasus, goes by the name of Fluttershy. Pretty little thing, if I'm to be perfectly honest. She appears to have a bun in the oven."

"She's with foal?" The expression on Betha's face was the closest thing Rozo had seen to a smile since she gave her lover's headless body to the sea. "I want her as well. I'll rip the little whelp out of the bitche's belly and show it to her as she dies, and I'll make this so called 'king' watch as I do it. You said there were others?"

"There's only one other one, captain. A unicorn, goes by the name of Starlight Glimmer. Their relationship may be an illicit one. I haven't seen them trade public displays of affection the way he does with the other one, but they're seen together enough for one to make the connection. I heard it from one of Sombra's very own village locals that they were seen entering a tavern together just a few night's ago. A guy doesn't just buy a girl a drink and expect nothing in return, if you catch my meaning. None that I know, anyway."

"Concubine," Betha mused. "This Starlight Glimmer, she sounds more like a paramour, that one."

"That could very well be the case. I apologize if my information is lacking. I couldn't risk getting too close. If you could see this king for yourself you'd understand. He struts around clad in heavy steel gauntlets like they're woollen socks, he's built like a brick shithouse, and he's always surrounded by guards. I doubt he's anything a well-thrown bomb or a cluster of grapeshot couldn't take care of though. To say he's a big guy is a bit of an understatement, but hey, if it bleeds, we can kill it."

Betha glowered at the flickering candle in front of her. The polished bells hanging from her feathers glinted in the light. "I don't care how I have to do it. Shoot him. Blow him to pieces. Stab him. Slice him to bloody ribbons... I don't care how I have to kill him, so long as I get to be the one to do it. That bounty hunter, too. As well as those two little pox-ridden whores he likes to keep around. Equines are naught but cattle to us, and it's about time we reminded them where their place on the food chain is." The Captain's eyes caught the firelight in a way that made them look like beads of molten honey. "This Sombra, he took something precious from me. So now, I'm going to return the favor ten fold." Her eyes then snapped to Rozo. "Do you remember the location of his hold?"

"Of course," Rozo said. "It's a palace towering over a small village, approximately a four hour flight west-by-southwest."

Betha nodded. "Good. What I need you to do now is assemble my fleet to our location. I want all my ships to report in by evenfall on the morrow."

"The fleet?" Rozo repeated incredulously. "As in, the whole fleet?"

"Yes!" Captain Betha replied in a sharp tone that implied he was a simpleton for asking. "The Winter Mist, The Bleeding Kraken, The Blood Boiler, The Weeping Widow, The Foaming Tide, The Red Dawn, The Strident Swimmer, The Lickspittle, The Crusty bloody Crab! All of my ships. Bring my command to them to rendezvous with the Black Basilisk. We're going ashore."

"But, captain, a storm's coming."

"You're damn right, a storm's coming."

"No, I mean a literal storm. It's coming in from the south. There's no way I can reach all nine ships in one night. Captain, a town raid hardly calls for the entire fleet. It would be like dispatching an entire armada to sink a skiff."

The Captain glared at him in a way that hinted she was in no mood to be balked. "This is no mere raid we're amassing for. This is war. I'm going to raze that village to the ground. And that bounty hunter, that false king, and his wives, or concubines, or whatever the hell they are to him, I'm going to kill them all myself. This is personal. A debt made in blood can only be repaid in blood, and I'll be bathing in it by the time this is all over. Now, you get your ass back out there, and you bring me my ships. Take a few crewmates with you and spread out so you can cut down on time."

Rozo had to restrain a sigh of reluctance. He was tired and hungry, but he dared not voice is displeasure. Something inside his captain's mind had snapped when she discovered the decapitated body of her favorite lover splayed out on the deck of their ship - as if his killer had meant for it to be found, just like how a cat might do with a bird or a mouse. Whether it was meant as a taunt, a threat, or a cruel jape, Rozo couldn't be certain. How an earth pony managed to achieve such a feat and escape their ship undiscovered was still a mystery to him. But he did know one thing: In the black mood that Betha was in, it was either obey or die. And in the back of his mind, Rozo couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for this stallion who called himself a king.

The Monster You've Become

Starlight Glimmer's hangover was an unpleasant thing to wake up to. Groaning, she cracked an eye to look out the window, and was immediately assaulted by the blinding morning sun spilling east light through her window. It figured that she'd be waking up with a hangover on the one day the peninsula had decided to grant her a morning that wasn't grey and gloomy.

She turned, drew the blanket over her head, and then she shut her eyes to stave off the nails of pain the morning light was so viciously pounding into her head. She had never experienced a hangover before. She had never even been drunk before. Her lack of experience with the drink must have made her tolerance to its after effects weak. She couldn't even recall how she got to bed last night. It was a disconcerting thing, not being able to remember. Never again, she promised herself.

Starlight could only writhe helplessly in her misery where she laid. The nausea was unbearable, and she was so terribly thirsty. Her throat was barren as a desert, and her tongue felt like a thick strip of cotton in her mouth.

Eventually her stomach began to heave, and she felt her gorge rising to the back of her throat. With a sudden urgency she began to crawl toward the edge of her bed, her weak muscles straining with the effort. Retching up on the floor was a disgusting prospect, but she preferred that to vomiting all over her bed to lay feebly in her own filth. She grappled the edge of the mattress and pulled for all she was worth. It was just then that she noticed an empty receptacle on the floor, as if it had been set there strategically. She could feel her abdomen constricting, forcing out a miasmic belch of air from deep within her stomach. With no time to be bemused or bewildered she grasped for the empty pail, and it all came out of her in a violent series of guttural heaves.

Some time had past, and the sour taste lingered in her mouth as she laid groaning in her bed, teary-eyed and miserable. She could hear someone working the handle of her door, and she knew who it was. Starlight would have preferred to not be seen in the pitiful state she was in, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Winter Lilac dropped her medical bag to look down into the nearby pail with an expression of unrestrained revulsion. "Plow me with a jackhammer, that smell!" she exclaimed, holding her nose.

"Jackhammer?" Starlight Glimmer said dryly, not taking her eyes off the canopy looming above her. She hadn't heard that expression before. "Try not to indulge in that fetish near any construction sites. A worker just might fall in love with you."

"What did you eat last night?" the apothecary went on. "Smells like... Like rancid milk poured over the yeast infection of a rotting corpse!"

"Yeah, well, that's not perfume in that bucket. You can use it if you want, though. That colorful fragrance you just described would go with your personality."

Starlight expected a quip or a sneer in return for her remark, but what she got instead was a laugh. "I like you when you're hungover," Winter Lilac cackled in amusement. She then started to dig through her medical bag. "Now, then, let's get this over with."

Starlight Glimmer surrendered her arm to her without a word. She didn't even have to be prompted to do so.

"I have a little something here for you," informed the apothecary, after the injection had been administered. "Two somethings, in fact. Courtesy of The King himself."

Starlight pressed her hooves firmly against the sides of her throbbing head, as if to subdue the rhythmic pounding threatening to split her skull apart. "It's not a severed head, is it?" she groaned, only half joking. "I learned yesterday Sombra has a rather strange taste when it comes to gifts."

"Hey, a severed head wouldn't be such a bad gift to receive. You could save on Nightmare Night decorations, at the very least; those realistic Applewood-tier horror props can be so expensive."

Starlight, not in the mood for Winter's macabre japes, sighed and began to work her hooves deep into the surfaces of her temples with slow, circular motions. "What are these gifts you've brought me?"

"First thing's first..." Winter Lilac rummaged through her bag and produced a waterskin. "Here, Sombra figured you'd be thirsty."

Starlight's thirsty, bloodshot eyes snapped to the receptacle, and with the assistance of the stimulant now coursing through her veins, she sat up and seized the skin from the apothecary's hooves without a word. She downed its contents eagerly, pulling every drop she could from the container. She was out of breath by the time it was empty.

"Damn, you were thirsty." Winter almost looked impressed when she took the skin back. "You just guzzled down a liter of water in four seconds. Frankly, I'm surprised it's not coming back up."

Her ravenous thirst now sated, Starlight Glimmer let out a sigh of content as she wiped her mouth with the back of her foreleg. "I've thrown up enough fluids for one day, thank you very much." She looked at the apothecary. "What was the other thing you had for me?"

"This." Winter Lilac held out a glass container. The clear vessel was teardrop-shaped and stoppered at its top with a cork. The fluid inside glittered amberescent in the morning light shining through the window.

"Oh," Said Starlight. Any first year alchemy student could identify the container as a potion flask. What manner of potion it contained however, she couldn't say.

"Drink it," Winter instructed. Then she threatened, "You won't find the taste very appealing, so be prepared for that. And don't spit it out or cough it back up, or this bottle's going right up your pasnoot, you got it?"

Starlight Glimmer narrowed her eyes. "Are you going to tell me what that stuff is, at least?"

"It's for your hangover." The apothecary shook the bottle impatiently for her to take it. "Would you just drink it already?"

Once the container was in her hooves Starlight Glimmer couldn't help but give the fluid inside a distrusting look. "Can't you just tell me what's in it first?"

The apothecary sighed. "It's hippocrass, laced with nettle, honey, ground mustard seed, and gorgon mucus."

"What was that last ingredient?"

"Mustard seed," the apothecary fibbed. "Just drink it."

Starlight wrenched the cork free with her teeth and gave the fluid a cautious sniff. The potion's scent seemed innocuous enough. Perhaps a little pungent, but no more than a recently spoiled apple. "You actually went through the trouble of making this for me?"

"Yes, because The King told me to. Now hurry up and down it. I want to go get breakfast."

Starlight Glimmer bolstered herself, then she tipped the bottle back. She had to struggle to keep the fluid in her mouth once its foul flavor assaulted her taste buds. She could scarcely bring herself to swallow it. It had a thick and slimy texture to it, and it tasted like a pureed rancid cabbage. It was like a mouthful of tepid pond scum fresh from the swamp.

"Don't you dare spit that out!" Winter Lilac demanded. "It was a pain in the ass to make. I had to wake up two hours early just to prepare that for you. I'm already cranky enough in the morning as it is."

You're cranky all the time, Starlight might have said. She had to tilt her head back and fight with the muscles in her throat to get the liquid down. Though it was only a mouthful, it took several attempts to swallow it. And when she finally did, the fluid felt like greasy tendrils traveling down her esophagus. It made her shutter. It was all she could do to keep from gagging.

Winter Lilac took the container from her and put it back in her bag, a preferable place to where she might have put it if Starlight tossed the imbibement back up. "How are you feeling?" asked the apothecary.

"I feel..." Starlight Glimmer placed her hoof over her belly, amazed. She didn't feel sick anymore. Her head still pounded something awful, but at least the worst part of her hangover had been cured. "Better," she said in wonderment.

Winter Lilac nodded. "That draught you just imbibed soothes the constitution by providing a temporary coating over the walls of your stomach. I would give you something for your headache, but mixing different potions can have a toxic effect on the body that may leave you worse off than you already were, so you're just going to have to grit your teeth and bear with it until it passes."

Starlight Glimmer nodded understandingly. "Thanks. I get that you're only helping me because you were told to, but still, I appreciate it."

"Whatever," said Winter Lilac, clasping her bag closed. "My work here is done." She turned and made for the door. "No more hangovers, alright? You get shit faced again, I'll be rousing you the next morning with a troupe of flugal horn blowers."

Starlight was just beginning to climb out of bed, but the apothecary turned around as she arrived at the door and said, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh... Breakfast?" Starlight responded, puzzled. She was sitting at the edge of her bed when the odd question froze her in place. She felt hungry now that her nausea was cured. "What, do I annoy you so much I can't even walk with you?"

"You're staying here. Sombra wants you to remain in bed."

"Sombra's consigned me to my bed?"

"Yes, he has. Do you really want to walk into the feasting hall with the way your head feels? The strident clanger of dishes, crying babies, the dull roar of numerous conversations all around you? Not to mention that you will most likely have trouble keeping down whatever you eat. You want to throw up in front of the entire castle staff?"

"But my nausea is--"

"You still have the hangover toxins lingering in your body. Your stomach will be sensitive for a time. Get some more rest, king's orders. He'll probably have some broth and bread brought up to you in a bit."

Starlight had to concede that the apothecary had a point. She no longer felt sick, and she was now strong enough to get around on her own, but she still had hammers ringing in her head. "Well, I'm still a bit tired. I guess it couldn't hurt to..." She was about to vocalise her consent to the order to get more rest, but Winter was already out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

"And a good morning to you, too," Starlight said once the door was closed, returning the farewell that was never given.

When next Starlight Glimmer had opened her eyes, the sun was well out of sight when looking through her window. She couldn't be sure of the time, but she speculated that it was at least noon, or afternoon at the very latest.

With her headache all but gone she pushed herself up to a sitting position and arched her back. Yawning, she turned her head and noticed a tray of food that had been set out for her on the nearby bedstand. She realized the bucket that she had filled that morning was absent, and in its place there was a small clay bowl of dried colorful herbs. It filled the room with a sweet scent that conjured images of a steaming cup of mulled cider spiced with cinnamon.

The confection of crushed herbs was most likely Winter Lilac's doing, Starlight suspected. The apothecary was knowledgable when it came to the properties of plants; fashioning an air freshener would have been a less than remedial task for one such as her. If that was the case, the bowl of herbs was more like to be an insinuation than a gesture of generosity, an emphasizer for how badly she had befouled the air in the room. Starlight couldn't help but smile at that, despite herself.

Starlight sat with her back against the headboard as she ate. The heel of brown bread wasn't exactly fresh, and the soup, which she quickly realized was just onion broth with some chopped up leaks and mushrooms thrown in, straddled the boundary between cold and luke warm, but her empty stomach formed no protest to the much needed nourishment. Fresh or stale, hot or cold, it felt good to have something in her stomach. She was mopping up the remnants of the broth at the bottom of her bowl with the last bite of bread when the sound of her door opening captured her attention.

Fluttershy's head peaked out from behind the door, her pink mane pulled stylishly through her lustrous dragonbone crown. She smiled when she saw Starlight was awake. "Oh, you're finally up. How are you feeling?"

Starlight swallowed the last morsel of bread and replied, "Better. Head feels a little fuzzy, but it's not pounding like it was this morning."

"That's good." Fluttershy closed the door behind her as she entered the room. The end of her velvety blue cape brushed the floor as she approached the bed. "Hubby figured you'd be a little puny this morning."

Starlight studied her for half a moment. She still wasn't used to seeing her friend in all her royal finery. That pregnant belly of hers made her no less of a spectacle to look upon. "So..." She began awkwardly. "Last night... I didn't do anything to embarrass myself, did I?"

Fluttershy sat on her haunches at Starlight's bedside. She cocked her head to the side, looking cutely befuddled. "Embarrass?"

Starlight peeled the blankets away from her lap. "I can't remember much of anything last night. I hope I didn't do or say anything I should be regretting."

"Must be all that booze you had," Fluttershy suggested.

"You think?" Starlight said dryly. "If I never see a cup of wine again it will be too soon."

The Queen giggled.

"It's not funny," Starlight snapped. "I didn't actually do something stupid last night, did I?"

"You've no reason to be concerned," Fluttershy assured her. "My husband wouldn't let you do anything to embarrass yourself. He actually became quite concerned for you when he realized how intoxicated you were."

"If you say so," replied Starlight, not entirely convinced. "Speaking of your husband, where is he?"

"Hubby's at the garrison right now. He's giving his congratulatory speech to the new batch of rangers that just graduated from the academy."

"Rangers?" Starlight echoed. "What are they, like, special forces, or something?"

Fluttershy nodded. "The ranger academy is really tough. Only five out of every ten applicants are accepted each season, and even then only three out of every ten who do get accepted into the academy actually pass. Sombra gives a speech to those who graduate, and at the end he calls them each individually up to the stage to ceremoniously present them with their green cloaks."

"A thirty percent success rate?" Starlight mused. And I thought CU had a tough reputation. "So, what are you doing here? I mean, I don't mind your company, but shouldn't you be at your husband's side when he's addressing his soldiers, or rangers, or whatever?"

"I usually am, but I opted to stay home so I can check up on you. You were sleeping like a baby the last two times I came by."

"Well, I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine now."

"That's good to hear," Fluttershy said. "I don't suppose you had any plans for this afternoon?"

Starlight furrowed her brow at the question. "Yeah, I was planning on going water skiing around two, and after that I was gonna head to the hey burger to pick up something to eat. You want to tag along, or would you rather have me bring something back for you?"

Fluttershy stared at her blankly. "Uhm... What?"

Starlight Glimmer had to stifle an exasperated groan. "No, I haven't made any plans. We prisoners aren't too keen on making appointments that don't involve sleeping, eating, and counting the tiles on the ceiling."

"Huh," was all Fluttershy had to say to that. "Well, I was thinking, if you aren't busy, and you've so faceiously stated that you aren't, while the hubby's out and about tending to his royal duties, perhaps you and I could hit the spa?"

"The spa?" Starlight ran a hoof through her mane and was suddenly aware of how stringy her hair felt. She realized she hadn't bathed the day before, and being abed most of the day had given her coat a somewhat musty scent, which was tinged with a vague note of booze. In short, she smelled like a lush. Visiting the spa, she realized, didn't sound like the worst idea in the world. She gave a shrug and responded, "I guess I could do with a little bit of freshening up."

Violet Viola, the mare Starlight Glimmer had met at the spa two days prior, was already there when they arrived. "Ah, there they are," she sang cheerfully when she looked back to meet them, every word spiced with an exotic lilt that enhanced her allure. "A good day to you, my queen. And to you as well, Miss Glimmer. How are you, my loves?"

Starlight returned the greeting as politely as she could. The earth pony was just as she remembered her, with her glossy sable coat and her ashen hair all done up in a cute little pixie cut. Her narrow almond-shaped eyes added a somewhat sultry quality to her demeanor, as if they were made for seductive smiles and intimate implications.

"The pool should be full in just a moment," Violet announced as she pumped away at one of the spouts, drawing from the rich mineral springs deep below the palace. The head of the nozzle eventually made a gurgling sound, before a short spurt of water burst forth from its mouth. She continued to pump, and pump, and pump, until the short blasts became a steady stream, then she wiped the sweat from her brow, removed the long wooden leaver from the back of the spout, and used it to activate the next one. There were four spouts in all, and two had already been activated.

After the pool had finally been filled, Violet added in a carefully measured mixture of ground herbs and scented oils. The attendant smiled as she took in a deep pull of the pleasant aroma now wafting from the water. "The scented bath is ready, my loves," she announced. "Be careful, the water may be very hot."

Starlight Glimmer was the first to ease herself into the spring. The water reached her upper chest when she lowered herself onto the chiseled stone bench rounding its lower wall. She took in a deep breath, and what was left of her headache immediately washed away when she took in the bath's sweet lavender scent. She closed her eyes with a hum of pleasure and rested back against the wall of the pool. No hot spring had ever felt so nice.

Fluttershy took her seat next to Starlight on the bench and offered Violet her thanks for getting the bath prepared so quickly on such short notice.

The mare bowed her head and said, "I am honored to serve you, my queen. May I offer you some tea to help you relax? We're out of Earl Grey, but we have plenty of Jasmine."

Starlight Glimmer sighed contentedly. "Thank you, but I don't think I need anymore help relaxing."

Fluttershy relaxed against the tiled edge of the pool and said, "I think we'll be fine, Miss Violet. That will be all for now."

Violet tilted her head in bewilderment. "But, the pool, it will need to be drained and scrubbed when you and your friend are finished using it."

"I'll drain the water," Fluttershy volunteered. "You can just clean it tomorrow morning. Go, enjoy the rest of your day off. It's sunny outside, and it's as warm as the New Haven climate is ever likely to be. Perfect weather for playing your violin out in the garden, wouldn't you say?"

Violet looked hesitant. "Are you sure this is what you want? Draining the pool is such a... Well, such a menial task. It is beneath you, my most beloved queen."

Fluttershy gave the spa attendant a wry grin. "You just turn that valve, right?" She indicated a skeletal iron wheel protruding from the far wall. "Do you really think I'm that helpless? If the task of simply twisting a valve is so beneath me, I shouldn't even be chewing my own food."

"I suppose that is true," Violet conceded with a sheepish chuckle. "Well, then, if it would please your grace, I shall take my leave. With your blessing, of course."

"I've already given it to you." Fluttershy waved her away. "And it would please me for you to go and enjoy what's left of your day."

Walking backwards toward the exit, the spa attendant kept her head bowed in The Queen's direction as she offered her thanks and promised to do just that.

Starlight Glimmer watched her leave before she turned to Fluttershy. "Where are the others?"

"The others?"

"There were other spa workers, weren't there?"

"I gave them all the day off. I just sent for Violet so she could prepare the bath. I figured you'd have an easier time relaxing if it was just you and me. Of course, If you wanted a massage or a hooficure I could call back Violet or send for one of the others."

"No, no, it's okay," Starlight objected. "This is fine. I wish you and I could do this more often."

Fluttershy smiled at her. "Who's to say we can't?"

Starlight studied her for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"Well..." Fluttershy hesitated. "You could take my husband up on his offer. We could be like sisters, you and I."

Starlight sighed. She was trying to relax. She didn't feel like dealing with this right now. "Fluttershy, we've already had this conversation," she said, keeping her refusal as cordial as she could make it sound.

"But, don't you want to get to know the baby?" Fluttershy went on. "We could have the baby call you auntie Starlight. Wouldn't that be cute?"

"Fluttershy, stop. I already told you, I have no intention of becoming Sombra's apprentice. I'll still be your friend, Fluttershy. Always. But I just want to get our friends and go home."

Fluttershy looked away from her. "I know it's not fair for me to ask you to make such a life-altering decision, but, if not for me, or for you, I implore you to reconsider for the sake of our friends. It's true that I have a plan set in place, but we can avoid any possible nastiness between Sombra and Celestia if you just join us. It won't be half as bad as you think it'll be, Starlight. I mean, if my husband plans on teaching and training you, I've no doubt he'll put you through the ringer, but after that--"

"After that... I'll be his lapdog, his assassin, his trained killer. He wasn't interested in me until he witnessed my prowess for weaponizing magic. It should be pretty obvious what he intends to use me for once he's got his hooks in me."

"Sombra wishes to usher you to your full potential," Fluttershy insisted.

"For butchery," Starlight added.

The Queen took her hoof and held it firmly against her breast. "Not for butchery, for justice! Starlight, with your capabilities and Sombra's guidance, you could do so much good! Sombra might even grant you a lordly title one day. Just think, your own castle and incomes and lands to preside over. I think 'Countess Starlight Glimmer' has a lovely ring to it, don't you? All you have to do is accept Sombra's proposal, and I just know he'll broaden your horizons beyond a level you couldn't even begin to imagine."

Starlight could take no more. "Fluttershy!" she shouted. She reclaimed her hoof, and It was all she could do to restrain herself from using it to slap some sense into her. "Would you listen to yourself? Sombra - assigning me lands that he has stolen - to rule in his name? I'd rather die, Fluttershy. I'd rather die!"

"But, you were the leader of your own commune at one time. Having your own land to rule over wouldn't be that much different."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of!" Starlight spat. "I was a power hungry, manipulative monster, but Twilight showed me the error of my ways. Are you seriously trying to convince me to devolve back into what I once was?"

"Starlight, that's not what I meant. I don't know what you think Sombra has planned for you, but I can tell you what it is he wants to do: He wants to train you. He wants to teach you. He respects your abilities. He sees your potential. He wants to make you an instrument of justice."

"I've seen Sombra's notion of justice, Fluttershy. I'll have no part of it."

"Are you still going on about that bandit keep?"

"No, I'm talking about that farce of a court you and your husband forced me to attend. He had a stallion pilloried and publicly whipped, Fluttershy! You can't look me in the eye and tell me you actually agreed with that sentence."

And that was precisely what Fluttershy did. She looked Starlight in the eye with a deadly serious expression and said, "Yes, I did. If I disagreed with it I would have objected."

Starlight was speechless for that moment. Several times she opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come. She's become a monster.

"You noticed that lynch mob forming around you in the courtroom, didn't you? They most likely would have killed that gambler if Sombra didn't back them down. The sentence he handed down was a severe one, but it placated the masses, who might have otherwise murdered him. Not to mention that the gambler was taught a sharp lesson. I doubt he's going to be a repeat offender."

"A jury in an Equestrian court would have never acted so barbaric," Starlight insisted. "And Celestia would have never handed down such a draconian sentence."

"Precisely!" Fluttershy agreed. "Thank you for reinforcing my point. There is no comparing our nations. Equestria is far more progressive, peaceful, and civilized than New Haven can ever hope to be in our lifetimes. And can you tell me why this nation is so uncivilized?"

"Because, Princess Celestia is clearly the superior ruler," Starlight presented in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Because Celestia never civilized it in the first place!" Fluttershy asserted.

Starlight laughed humorlessly. "I see you've lost your temper as well as your morality."

"Morality?" Fluttershy scoffed. "You want to talk about morality? Alright, we'll talk about morality. What would you say is the moral option? Embarking on a campaign, where hundreds of thousands of monsters are put to the sword in order to establish law and usher in a future of guaranteed peace and plenty? Or, allowing those very same monsters, who would seek to do evil to others, to thrive for generations upon generations, letting the suffering of the weak and downtrodden go unchecked for millennia, even though you have the power to stop it? Think about it really, really hard. Which subject had the stronger sense of morality? The so-called 'bloodthirsty' conquerer who took action, or the able but unwilling pacifist who allowed the madness to continue in perpetuity?"

"If Princess Celestia heard you comparing her to some impotent--"

"Answer the question!" Fluttershy demanded.

"I'm not going to validate your justification for this campaign of genocide you and your husband have set out on. And don't bark commands at me. I'm not one of your servants, I'm your friend. Or, at least, I was." She rose from the pool, turned, and climbed out.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fluttershy said.

"No friend would ever ask me to do something so horrible as what you're trying to get me to do." Starlight pulled a towel down from a peg on the wall and began to dry herself. "I just want to get my friends and go home. The sooner, the better."

Fluttershy climbed out of the pool after her. "I don't know what's going to happen to you tomorrow. Sombra could throw you in the dungeon. He might even put you back to sleep. It's true that I have a plan set into place to free you, but it could take moons or maybe even years before Sombra could be pressured to release you. It doesn't have to be like that, Starlight. If you could find it in your heart to give my husband a chance, our friends could be on their way home as early as tomorrow, and the strife between Celestia and my husband can finally be put to rest."

Starlight let the towel fall in a disorganized pile on the floor. She stared The Queen down with a defiant glare and said, "I'll take imprisonment over servitude to that bastard any day. I'll not give him the chance to manipulate me like he's done with you." And then she turned and made for the exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" Fluttershy demanded. "You're not permitted to wander the palace without an escort. I'll take you wherever you want to go, but let me dry off first."

"Don't bother. I'm done with you." She looked back at her after she pushed the door open. "It's a good thing our friends aren't here right now. I don't know how I'll console them once they've seen what a monster you've become. You and Sombra, you really deserve each other, you know that?"

Fluttershy just looked at her blankly after she said that, so Starlight left her there.

I don't need another day to make my decision, Starlight had decided as she traversed the corridor with long angry strides. I'm going to find Sombra, and I'm going to tell him exactly what I think of him and where he can shove his offer. I'm gonna spit right in his eye, and damn the consequences. He can't hurt me. The worst he can do is throw me in his dungeon. Or, better yet, he can put me back to sleep. It will only be a matter of time before Celestia starts putting the screws to Sombra, and he'll have no choice but to release all of us. I'll sleep for a little while, and the next thing I'll know, I'll be awakened at Celestia's behest, and I'll be sent on my way home. Goodbye frozen hellscape, good bye Sombra, and good bye Queen Fluttershy. Good riddance to them both.

Starlight eventually reached the end of the corridor and rounded a corner, and just as she did, she was suddenly staring at a pair of massive steel gauntlets. She would have ran into them if she hadn't immediately stopped. She looked up, and saw two burning red irises gleaming down at her.

"Good afternoon, my lady," Sombra said with icy courtesy. "Pray, why and how are you skulking about my halls without an escort?"

Startled by his sudden appearance, Starlight's words abandoned her.

"Would you have one of us escort the lady to her room, your grace?" asked one of the guards in his company, whom Starlight hadn't noticed until he spoke.

"You may do so, after the lady has answered my question," Sombra replied, keeping his eyes fixed hotly on Starlight. "My queen has already volunteered to be your chaperone this afternoon. Why isn't she with--" The King suddenly lifted his head. His ears twitched. "Something's wrong," was the last thing he said before he tore off in the direction Starlight had come from.

The four guards that had been in Sombra's company traded bemused looks with one another before they followed after him. One of them turned his head and shouted a curt order to 'stay put' at Starlight Glimmer as they urgently galloped down the hall.

The next thing Starlight knew her hooves were moving. She managed to catch up with Sombra and his guards just as he was opening the spa door. The King was the first inside, with his entourage of palace sentries all filing in after him. Starlight made up the rear, and had to shuffle through the gawking line of red cloaks to see what was happening.

Starlight Glimmer's stomach fell when she saw Fluttershy laying on the spa floor, her face hidden behind her hooves as she wept uncontrollably to herself. How did Sombra know? She was beginning to ponder, but then she remembered The King's sonar senses.

"My love, tell me what has happened." Sombra's voice was low, feather soft, and tender with concern. He undid the fastenings of his gauntlets and removed them to bear his forelegs, and he gently helped his wife up to guide her into his arms. Fluttershy practically disappeared, she looked so absurdly diminutive when she was enveloped in the massive stallion's embrace.

"Tell me," The King said again, but this time it was in a pleading, soft whisper.

Fluttershy was trying and failing to stifle her sobs. "My... It... I... Horm... Hormones..."

It was as if Sombra had forgotten about Starlight, forgotten about the guards watching them. He paid them no mind. For that instant he actually bore the expression of a gentle loving husband. "Hormones?" he said. "Is that all?"

Fluttershy gave a nod and sniffled. For one brief second her shimmering blue eyes betrayed her. She glanced at Starlight, quick as a flash, and then she looked away.

Sombra was quick to pick up on the clue his wife had just unwittingly given him. His gaze shifted to Starlight, and his expression began to harden into a suspicious glare. "What did you do to her?" he said.

"Nothing!" Fluttershy sobbed. "She didn't... Didn't do anything." She wiped her eyes. "She just... I felt th-the baby. It kicked. For the first time, I felt our baby kick... I sent Starlight to go... To go find you, so she could tell you about it. I was so excited... I was so happy, I just started crying."

Sombra kept his accusatory scowl zeroed in on Starlight Glimmer as he replied, "I thought you said it was your hormones that had made you so emotional."

Fluttershy's eyes widened as she realized her mistake.

"You..." Sombra released his bride, and he started toward Starlight, red eyes wreathed in jade flames. "What. Did. You. Do."

"I..." Starlight backed away as Sombra's shadow began to engulf her, but the crimson cloaks were behind her. She didn't see which one shoved her forward.

"She didn't do anything!" Fluttershy insisted.

A queer sort of madness began to replace her trepidation as The King towered intimidatingly over her. Whether it was a need to vent the insanity that had been building up inside her for the past few days, or just a coursing spike of sudden adrenaline racing through her veins, she couldn't have said, but Starlight had some choice words for her tormentor, and she was suddenly compelled to let them be heard.

"You want to know what I did?" She jabbed a hoof in The King's face. "I put your queen in her place, and it's passed time I did the same to you, you--"

Starlight Glimmer did not see his hoof move, but she felt it. She felt the blow on the side of her face, she felt the tile floor under her as she slid across its surface, and she felt the unyielding stone wall when she collided with it. Her ears were ringing so loudly she could just barely make out Sombra's command to his guards.

"Take her away!"

It was an echo, loud at first, and then becoming quieter, and quieter, until the world around her went completely silent.

Forsaken By The Sun

The sky through the nearby window was just beginning to darken when Starlight Glimmer came to. She had awoken sprawled across her bed, as if one of Sombra's cronies had unceremoniously dumped her there, like a sack of oats. She lifted a hoof and felt the throbbing bruise on the side of her face, wincing at how tender it was. The inside of her mouth tasted like copper where her teeth had cut into her inner cheek, under the impact of the blow Sombra had dealt her. A moment of probing around her mouth with her tongue had revealed that all her teeth were thankfully in tact. At least that was something. Son of a bitch coldcocked me, Starlight thought, grimacing as she worked her jaw around with her hoof, to ensure that it wasn't broken. She concluded that It might hurt to chew for a few weeks, but other than that, no serious damage had seemed to have been inflicted. Still though, he had hit her hard enough to knock her out.

Celestia would be sure to hear about that little indiscretion. Starlight was a foreign prisoner. Her protection was guaranteed by the DIS, and Sombra had violated it when he struck her. Starlight's grimace turned into a grin as she envisioned Celestia smacking Sombra around like a pinball, in recompense for all the injustices he had inflicted upon her, though the thought was merely cathartic. She doubted her princess would use such crass methods of chastisement, even on one as deserving as Sombra. Princess Celestia would no doubt cook up a far more creative punishment for the brute. That didn't make the image of her mopping the floor with him any less fun to imagine however.

Starlight crawled out of bed and made for the door, but when she tried it it refused to open. It had appeared to have been secured from the other side, though through what means she couldn't say. As far as she knew there were no external locks on the door, and it didn't have any mounts or brackets to accommodate a drop bar. Starlight could only give a mental shrug. She should have expected as much: Sombra had confined her to her room to await his pleasure. All she could do was shamble back to her bed and wait for whatever was going to happen next.

Alone, and with nothing else to do, Starlight was content to just lay on her side, watching as the star-speckled blanket of amethyst that was the sky transition to twilight. She lost herself in her thoughts, mooning wistfully of the girls sleeping below the palace, unreachable, and oblivious to her dire situation. Would Twilight know what to do? she thought. What if Sombra had awakened her instead? What about Sunset? What would she do? Twilight was the level headed one, but Sunset was bold and brash where Twilight was cool and calculating. She doubted that Moon Dancer would survive in her situation. It would be her mouth that would do her in. She was wont to speak her mind. She was gutsy, and she didn't mince words, Starlight could give her that. But a sharp tongue was a detriment in her situation, as Sombra had so violently demonstrated to her in the spa.

Starlight rolled onto her back and stared at the canopy above her. Its white seams contrasted with the deep purple fabric, making the accents more prominent. She traced the patterns with her eyes as her thoughts went to Fluttershy, for whom she now had nothing but disdain. How could she defend that monster? Neigh, not only does she defend him, she's become just like him. She takes land that isn't hers and subjugates its inhabitants to her husband's dictatorial rule. She's not only complicit in the cruel and arbitrary ways her husband punishes the offenders of his court, she vehemently espouses them. Starlight wondered if Fluttershy herself had ever sentenced anyone to the whip or the mines... Or the rope. The thought made her shudder.

To think that I would ever cross that line, to even suggest that I follow the dark path you've taken, Fluttershy, you must be insane...

Starlight lacked a watch or clock to count the hours that had gone by, but she at least knew it was getting late. The crescent moon was high, the cold, dry air of the northern climate making it shine vividly in the blackened sky like a horn of polished ivory. The chill of the night air was seeping into her room. She had retreated under her blankets, and that helped for a time, but eventually her breath had started to mist in front of her, and she was beginning to feel the cold soaking through her thickly padded quilt. That was when she finally decided that it was time for a fire.

It appeared that half of the work had already been done for her. The hearth had been shoveled out -- by the maid who tended to her room, she presumed -- and a freshly-cured log was set at the center of the pit. A small cupboard located in the corner of her room contained everything she needed. Starlight removed several clumps of dried pine needles and a piece of flint from the tinderbox in the drawer, then selected a faggot from the kindling pile in the bottom cabinet. She scattered the tinder over the log and tossed the bundle into the pit.

It was the first time she had ever built a fire without the use of magic to aid her. When lighting her stove or fireplace back home she would simply ignite the molecules in the air to produce a shower of sparks. But she was currently incapable of using magic, which meant that if she wanted a fire, she would have to start one the old fashioned way. She looked down and examined the flint and tinderbox in her hooves. How hard could it be?

She turned the tinderbox over and experimentally slid the flint across its rough metallic undersurface... Nothing. Not so much as a spark. She tried again, and again, and again. She could feel her room growing colder as time went on. Hissing a structureless string of expletives, she tried again, and again, and again, getting more frustrated with each failed attempt. She tried more and again, but the few sparks she could produce wasn't nearly adequate to set the log ablaze. Defeated, she glowered at the tinderbox, and was ready to throw it across the room in frustration, when a sudden rapping at her door distracted her from her irritation.

"Miss Starlight?" a nasally voice cracked.

Starlight Glimmer turned away from her hearth and called back, "Joji, is that you?"

"Yeah... Yeah, it's me," the muffled voice announced. "Can I... Can I come in?"

"Sure, if you can get the door open," Starlight replied, remembering that it wouldn't open for her when she had tried it.

"Oh... Uhm, okay." And to Starlight's surprise the door opened, and in walked the gangly colt, all one hundred pounds of him. The wispy adolescent was balancing a domed serving tray on his hoof. He set it down at the foot of the bed, then blushed as he raised his gaze to meet hers. "I brought you, uh, something to eat, M-Miss Starlight."

"I suppose Fluttershy sent you?"

"No one sent me," squeaked the boy. "I just... I thought you might be hungry."

Joji's explanation caught Starlight off guard. "You just climbed all the way up the tower steps with that big platter on a hunch that I was hungry?"

Joji fidgeted with his hooves. "If you're not, I'll just leave you alone," he said, the gaps between his acne-riddled face reddening to an even brighter hue than it already was, his oratory perforated with cracks and rasps.

Puberty came at this poor kid with a morning star, Starlight observed. It was like he had never seen a mare before. The boy was so awkward and nervous around her he was beginning to shake... But it might have been the cold that was doing that to him; her room was becoming an ice box.

The lull between them made the young pegasus shrink back. "I could just come back later... Or, never, whichever you prefer."

"No, it's okay." Starlight approached him in the way one might when trying to pet a timid animal. "As it so happens, I am a bit hungry." She placed a hoof on his shoulder and tried to put him at ease with a smile. "Show me what you brought me."

The contact visibly flustered him. He swallowed, the apple protruding from that absurdly scrawny neck of his falling and then rising. "S-sure~" he quivered, before he removed the dome-shaped top from the serving dish.

The steam from the hot food plumed opaque in the cold of the chamber, revealing a stir-fry of diced tomatoes, broccoli, green peppers, and mushrooms. Drizzled over it was a savory-scented relish that smelled vaguely of pumpkins and chestnuts. The scorching confection of spices that had been used to season the dish made Starlight's eyes and mouth water. "Joji," she said, delighted, "this was so nice of you. Thanks."

Joji smiled shyly through a row of chattering teeth. "I'm pleased you like it, Miss Starlight. I heard that you had been confined to your room for most of the day, so I just thought you'd appreciate some room service." He breathed into his hooves and rubbed his arms. Then he finally asked, "By the way, I don't mean to pry, but why do you have it so cold in here?"

"Uh..." Starlight looked back at her hearth. "I was trying to start a fire to get a little warmth in here," she admitted, abashed that she was so incapable of such a menial task. "I've been at it for an hour now. No luck."

"I could help, if you'd like," Joji offered.

"Oh, could you?" replied Starlight, surprised by the offer.

"It's no problem," insisted Joji. "I lay The King and Queen's chamber fire for them every night. It's easy, if you know the proper way to do it."

Starlight followed her volunteer to the hearth. He hummed thoughtfully as he looked into the pit. "There's your problem," he said pointedly.

"What's my problem?" Starlight said with legitimate interest. Building a fire could be a useful skill, so she was eager to learn. She got down close to Joji, so that she could peer into the belly of the hearth with him.

The intimate proximity made the young stuart flush. "You, uh... Have the... The kindling. It's set all wrong. And the tinder, too. Here, I'll show you." He reached into the pit and removed the faggot. Then he swept the tinder into a neat pile before gathering it all up. Starlight watched as he broke the twine that bundled the dry sticks together, and he set them around the log in a teepee-like formation. After that he placed the clumps of pine needles around the cone of kindling he had built around the log. He turned and asked, "Do you have the tinderbox?"

"It's right here." Starlight gave it to him, as well as the flint. "I think it's broken, or something. I could barely get any sparks out of it."

"Broken?" Joji said. He held the tinderbox out, over the pine needles piled up around the sticks, then he struck a cascade of sparks into the dried foliage, once, twice, thrice, and whoof. The innards of Starlight Glimmer's hearth was alive with a radiant blaze, the sweet tang of burning seeder filling her nostrils.

"You made it look so easy," Starlight said in wonderment, holding her hooves out to welcome the warmth. It felt good. "What was I doing wrong?"

"You have to make sure the log and kindling aren't obstructing the sparks' path to the tinder," Joji pointed out. "You need to arrange the kindling around the log so the fire can breathe properly. And when you're striking the tinderbox, make sure you do so at a forty five degree angle. Don't just drag the stone across the steel, or all you'll be doing is grinding the flint down"

"I'll remember that for next time," Starlight said. If there is a next time.

"You don't have to do it yourself," Joji insisted. "You can just call me. You can call me anytime, for anything."

"I appreciate that." Starlight favored him with a smile. "You're okay, you know that?"

"Thanks, I..." Joji seemed to suddenly notice something, now that they were both bathed in the illumination the hearthfire emitted. His shy smile turned into a look of concern. "Does that hurt?" His hoof moved toward the angry throbbing welt pulsing on Starlight's cheek.

The unpleasant memory of the way Sombra had battered her ebbed at her gratitude. Starlight snatched his hoof before it could reach her. "Yes," she said, a little sharper than she meant to. "And you should never presume to touch a girl's face before asking her permission."

The steward looked as if she had just rapped him on the nose with a wooden spoon. He drew his hoof back when she released it, then he stammered an apology.

"It's..." Starlight made an effort to sweeten her voice, to take the sting out of her rebuke. "It's okay, kid." She looked at the food steaming pleasantly in the cold air. "It was really nice of you to come by."

"I was just thinking of you is all," Joji said, then immediately looked away from her, pretending to be distracted by the fire. A flush crept across his muzzle. The tips of his ears turned red. "Actually, I... I've been thinking about you a lot lately... Since, uhm... Well, since the first time I saw you, in the feasting hall."

Starlight, feeling strange and a little uneasy, stroked the back of her head and averted her eyes. "Uh, yeah?"

Joji gave her a quick sideways glance, then cleared his throat. He took a deep breath, looking like a nervous tiger cub getting ready to pounce upon his first kill. "What I mean to say is... I sort of... Kinda--"

"Joji." Starlight stopped him. She placed a sympathetic hoof on his shoulder, smiled apologetically, and shook her head.

The steward averted his eyes in a vain attempt to hide the dejection in them. "Well, I... Figured it was worth a shot." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I should probably get out of your mane and let you eat." He turned on his heels and began toward the door as casually as he could make himself seem.

Starlight made no effort to stop him. He was probably embarrassed, and a little disappointed. The best thing to do was to let him go, but not before offering some words of hope. "Hey, kid?"

Joji was half way to the door when he stopped. He looked back at her, making an effort to look more attentive than melancholy. "Miss Starlight?" he replied, trying and doing poorly to conceal the somberness in his tone.

Starlight remembered what she was like at that age, the raging crock pot of hormones and anxiety that she had been. She would need to tread softly, she knew. "Is this your first time?"

"My first time?" the teen parroted.

"Is this the first time you've felt like this toward someone?"

Joji blushed and responded with a silent nod.

"It's just a crush," Starlight assured him. "It'll pass. Give it a few weeks. A moon, at the very most. In time someone else will come along, someone who feels the same way for you as you do for them, and then you'll forget all about me."

Starlight had meant her words as a salve for the boy's hurts, but with the way the anguish spread across his face, they might as well have been lemon juice. "But, I don't want to forget you," he rasped.

Starlight spoke softly, and not at all unkindly. "You're gonna have to, kid; I know it's not easy, but you and I -- It's just not gonna happen, okay? The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be to move on."

Joji let out a sigh. "Yes, ma'am."

Starlight smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. "Hey, go easy on that 'ma'am' stuff. I'm not old enough to be called that yet."

Joji returned the smile, though it was painfully obvious he was forcing it. "Sorry, Miss Starlight."

There was an awkward pause between the two of them. The mood in the room was beginning to feel strange, until Joji could bear it no longer and politely excused himself. Starlight wished him a pleasant night, and watched as he disappeared into the hall, closing the door behind him.

It wasn't until the very second the door had closed when Starlight Glimmer remembered something. Shit, the Door! She rushed over to it and tried to get it open, but her efforts were to no avail. How did Joji open it? She puzzled over the conundrum until she came upon the realization that it didn't matter. Even if she could get the door open, what next? Somehow ghost past the palace guards, abandon her friends, and escape naked into the subarctic wastes?

Sighing and feeling foolish, she turned and shambled back to her bed, eyeing the food that Joji had laid out for her. She could feel her stomach grumbling as soon as she was close enough to smell it. She took the serving dish and brought it over to one of the plush seats before the hearth, where she could warm herself as she filled her belly.

Starlight set the dish down on the floor after she finished the last bite, and she sagged back into the cushions of her chair. The fire in front of her and the spicy food inside of her made her feel warm again, and it was beginning to make her feel sleepy. With a stretch and a yawn, she decided to rest her eyes momentarily. She closed them for what only seemed like a few seconds, but when she opened them to the sound of her door creaking open, she could no longer see the moon outside her window, as if several hours had passed. If it wasn't for the glow of the fire blazing away inside her hearth, her chamber would have been pitch black.

Starlight rubbed her eyes and said sleepily, "Who is it?"

"It's me," Fluttershy announced.

Starlight's eyes narrowed, fixing her glare into the fire in front of her. She didn't bother to turn around. "Can I help you?" she said, her tone icy with formality, as if she was speaking to a stranger. And she was, as far as she was concerned.

"No more than I can help you... No matter how hard I try."

Starlight disregarded the intrigue the statement had evoked. "Then leave me alone."

"If that is your wish," Fluttershy replied, "but there's something you need to be made aware of."

Starlight listened to the sound of soft hoofsteps plodding toward her on the rushes. The Queen entered the boundary of her vision, but instead of taking a seat in the chair directly across from her, she went to the window, and for a long time she just sat and gazed at the world outside.

Starlight pretended to ignore her, but the long bout of silence was making her feel uncomfortable.

Eventually, The Queen leaned forward and rested her forehead against the cold glass. "I keep having this dream," she finally said, her voice forlorn and distant. "It's sunny, the sky is clear, and the city of Canterlot is echoing with the song of the castle bells. All of our friends and family are there. Even Discord, and all the animals I used to tend to at my cottage. Young fillies skip merrily as they shower my path with flower petals. I'm wearing an immaculate white dress, with silken flowers sewn into the sashes, with a long white train trailing behind me as my father escorts me up the aisle. My husband is waiting for me at the alter, his hair neatly combed and bound back in a pony tail, looking resplendent in his tuxedo. I've never seen him wear a tux outside of my dream, but I just know he would look handsome in one."

"A wedding?" Starlight mused.

"A real wedding," Fluttershy replied. "Ever since I had this dream, it's the one thing I've pined for. My friends and family, old and new, together... I want my husband to meet his new parents and brother-in-law. I want him to break bread with Sunset, Moon Dancer, and Twilight. I want Celestia and Luna to toast our union. I feel like, no matter what happens after that, I could die happy..." She sniffed. "But it's madness, isn't it, to hope for such things? It'll never happen. I know that now. I didn't realize it until today, but my friends and family back home, they won't even be able to recognize me, will they?"

Starlight shifted uneasily in her seat as her words came echoing through her mind. I don't know how I'll console them once they've seen you for the monster you've become. She forced herself to harden her heart. "No, they won't," was her answer. "And neither can I." It felt cruel to say, but what good would come from sugarcoating things? That pregnant mare standing before her, dressed in all that royal finery, that wasn't Fluttershy. At least, not anymore.

Smiling, and with tears in her eyes, Fluttershy turned from the window to face her. "Thank you for your honesty."

Feeling absurdly guilty, Starlight averted her gaze back to the fire, before her own tears could be seen. "Did you come all the way to my room just to ask me that? Was that dream the thing I needed to be made aware of?"

There was a long pause. Then, "No."

Starlight sighed impatiently. All the vague replies and long bouts of silence were beginning to vex her. "Well, what is it, then?"

Fluttershy finally approached the seat across from Starlight. She took her time settling into it, and when she did, she took a deep sigh and began, "It's almost midnight."

"So, it is," Starlight conceded.

"The third day is quickly approaching, Starlight. My husband will ask you to join him one more time."

If you make me have this conversation with you again, I'll jump through the damn window, and I swear I'll take you with me. "I've already given you my answer."

"Yes. Yes, you have." Fluttershy closed her eyes and, again, was silent for a long time. "Something unexpected happened shortly after the... The altercation between you and my husband. Something you should know about."

"Altercation?" Starlight scoffed. "Your husband brutalized me!"

Fluttershy's eyes were glistening when she opened them again. "Starlight, please, just be quite and listen. There's something you need to know: My plans to help you and the girls have been ruined. Celestia ended up dealing us a wild card. I-I swear to you, Starlight, I didn't see this coming. I couldn't have planned for this."

The news, vague as it was, was like a blow to Starlight Glimmer's stomach. An icy sensation jolted up her spine. "W-wait, what? What happened!"

Fluttershy looked down at her hooves. "Celestia contacted Sombra with a proposal."

"Celestia 'contacted' him?" Starlight said, perplexed.

"They have scrying mirrors they use to keep in communication with each other, it was a condition they agreed to when the DIS was signed. But that's not important right now. Sombra spoke with Celestia, and it seems they've reached an agreement concerning Twilight Sparkle's release."

"He's agreed to release us?" For that moment Starlight Glimmer was ecstatic beyond description. "Did Celestia put the screws to him? When can we wake the girls up? When are we getting out of here?"

Fluttershy didn't respond right away. She just kept her gaze lowered.

Starlight's smile began to dim when she noticed The Queen's sullen demeanor. "What's wrong? This is a good thing, isn't it?"

Fluttershy looked up at her. "I said they had reached an agreement concerning Twilight Sparkle's release. I never said anything about you or the others going free."

Starlight Glimmer blinked uncomprehendingly. "What?"

The Queen's next words were a bolt of despair aimed directly at Starlight's heart. "Celestia has convinced Sombra to release Twilight Sparkle, and in return, he gets to keep you and the others." Fluttershy shuddered. "She... Princess Celestia, she offered up your freedom in return for Twilight's. I'm sorry, but there's no way to sugar coat it: Princess Celestia has sold you, Starlight."

Starlight Glimmer found difficulty in processing the information. The hope that she would again be free was the mortar that had been keeping her together all this time.

"Celestia has already admitted that you and the others were rogue agents, who acted independently and without her knowledge. This way, Celestia gets her pupil back, and Sombra gets to keep his attempted regicides under lock and key, to prevent the possibility of a second attack."

Tears were beginning to well up in Starlight's eyes. "You... But, you promised."

"I'm sorry," Fluttershy offered feebly. "I know things seem hopeless right now, but there still may be a chance. My husband's offer may still stand."

"I can't believe you're still going on about that!" Starlight shouted. "I'm never going to join you monsters!"

"Monster?" The Queen sighed. "There you go, using the 'M' word again. You know, It hurt when you called me that earlier. I never meant to make a spectacle of myself back in the spa, but, those words cut me in a way you couldn't imagine. I didn't need to be reminded that my friends and family back home would ostracize me for what I've become. They'd call me a monster too, wouldn't they?"

Starlight waved her hoof. "If the horseshoe fits."

Fluttershy gripped the arms of her chair so firmly her hooves started turning white, though she managed to keep her voice subdued at a reasonable volume. "You know, there is indeed a monster in this room. And I'm looking right at her."

"Excuse you?" Starlight said, outraged by the accusation.

"You tried to kill my husband, Starlight. He would have quartered with you if you hadn't attacked him. But no, you tried to murder him - right in front of his wife, no less. You would have killed New Haven's only hope and widowed me all in one fell swoop."

Starlight Glimmer reddened. "We were trying to rescue you, you ingrate!"

"Whose the ingrate? I'm the one whose been trying to rescue you. Only, my rescue attempt didn't involve killing anyone. Makes me wonder who the true monster is. It's no wonder Celestia doesn't want you back."

The statement was meant to sting, and it succeeded. "You're lying. I know you're lying, damn you! Celestia would never abandon us like that!"

"It's not a lie!" Fluttershy insisted. "But there's still hope. This is the last time I'm going to say it: Join us. Free our friends. Make amends to New Haven and her people for your attempted regicide and help us fight for her. Join us, Starlight. It's the only option you have left!"

No, she thought. It was a lie. It had to be. "It's a trick. You're trying to pressure me into accepting Sombra's offer."

"You accuse my queen of lying?" a deep voice emanated from the far end of the room. "Face it, you're expendable, an acceptable loss. You and your friends are no more than currency, which was used to buy Princess Twilight Sparkle's freedom."

Starlight turned to scowl at the intruder. "I don't believe either of you!" she blustered in a rage.

Sombra passed through the doorway, a shadow advancing through the darkness with an otherworldly grace. The wisps of amethyst lining his eyes streaked tails of phantom light as he moved. He stood behind his wife's seat and placed a hoof upon her shoulder.

"How long were you standing there?" Starlight demanded.

"Oh, I arrived right around the time of the 'I'm never going to join you monsters' declaration." Sombra approached her, skirting around his queen's chair. He lifted a hoof and made to examine the bruise on her face. "Would you like some ice for that?"

"Don't touch me!" Starlight swatted his hoof away. "What do you want?"

Sombra remained cool with a composed dignity, despite the rude reception he was being given. "You know what I want," he said. "I am a stallion of my word. Three days I have given you, and the first stroke of the third day approaches. What will your decision be?"

"Starlight," Fluttershy broke in. "Please, make the right decision. For your sake, and that of the girls'."

"It sounds like my wife has already filled you in. I had expected she would have informed you before I could. It is as she has said, Celestia has forsaken you. Whether or not you believe us matters not, but believe this: Come tomorrow morning, I will awaken Princess Twilight Sparkle. I will have my finest carriage ready to escort her to the southern border, where my custody over her shall be relinquished to Princess Celestia. But you and the others, you belong to me now."

A lump began to form in Starlight's throat. The finality in Sombra's tone was beginning to dissipate her doubts. "Twilight... Will you at least let me say goodbye to her?"

Sombra considered her coldly. "Neigh. By the time the princess has been roused, you'll be on your way to the mines, where you will toil away the rest of your life carving silver and corundum from the rocks. You'll be of more use to me there than you will rotting in my dungeon. If you will not serve me freely, you will serve me in chains."

"And the others?" Starlight croaked.

"It's as I've told you once before, it's draining my resources keeping them alive in their fragile condition. I wish to rid myself of them before they drain what paltry stores of medicine I have left. I could tell my staff to stop treating them, and simply let their bodies deteriorate. Or perhaps I could just have their throats opened, or give them to the sea. It would be kinder than letting them slowly die of infection or malnutrition."

Starlight felt as if she was going to vomit.

Fluttershy seized her king's hoof and pleaded. "It hasn't been seventy two hours yet!"

"The moon is risen upon the zenith," Sombra retorted. "I did not promise seventy two hours. I promised three days. And soon shall arrive the morn of the third day. I'll stall no longer; it is time for her to decide."

"I won't let you do it!" Fluttershy sprang from her chair, opened her wings, and hovered so that she could be eye level with her husband. "I swear, I'll hate you for the rest of my days if you hurt them!"

Sombra looked her in the eye. "And what of these friends of yours? Would you have hated them just as much if they had succeeded in their assassination, if they had windowed you, if they had orphaned our child?"

"You never mentioned anything to me about killing them!" Fluttershy shot back, her voice high with distress.

"Just as you never mentioned to me that you purposely worded the DIS to give Celestia leeway in forcing me to release your friends?"

The color drained from Fluttershy's face. "What? Y- you knew?"

"I speculated," Sombra revealed. "But now, I know. Your mouth can lie, but your eyes can not."

The beating of Fluttershy's wings slowed until she was touching the ground. "How?" was all she could seem to say.

"I know you," The King replied. "You would never sell out your friends so easily. Wording the document so that I may keep your friends as prisoners for as long as I pleased? And the section barring Princess Celestia from taking hostile action against me? Why did the word 'hostile' need to be there? There are other ways for Celestia to attack me without utilizing what is legally construed as 'hostile' force, especially since we're so reliant upon trade with her nation, which was another condition I found suspicious. Why was an agreement included in the DIS that dictated New Haven would trade exclusively with Equestria, and no other nations? It was as if you purposely made us reliant upon Equestria for resources... It was as if you had given Celestia a course of attack, which would have been far more effective than any military campaign... Say, an embargo, perhaps?"

Fluttershy just looked up at him, stupefied.

Sombra reached down and tenderly touched her on the cheek. "I admire that you strived to stay loyal to me, Celestia, and your friends all at the same time. It was a good plan. You prevented a possible war, and established a rather necessary albeit limited trade contract with a neighboring nation. I have you to thank for all that. As for Celestia, she was simply too stupid to seize the opportunity you had given her. You gave her too much credit, and me not enough. Though, I will admit, you had me deceived at first. I would never have signed that document if I had comprehended the nuances of its language. I would be lying if I told you I didn't feel a little betrayed, yet I am impressed... Such conflicting emotions."

"Is this why you want to kill them?" Fluttershy began to sob softly. "To punish me?"

"I do what I do for the preservation of our nation, little dove."

Starlight shuddered. Sombra had figured everything out, and Fluttershy's plan no longer had teeth, since Celestia, the most vital piece to her game, had sold her for Twilight's freedom. The only one who could help her friends now was her. Feeling as if she was no more valuable than fodder, forgotten and cast aside by the princess she had once admired, her lips quivered as she forced out the words. "You... You win, Sombra."

They both looked at her. The relief in Fluttershy was palpable, while Sombra's visage remained an expressionless mask.

Starlight, her eyes glistening, said, "You have to awaken them. All of them, and you have to send them home safely. And you have to let me say goodbye to them. Those are my only conditions."

Sombra considered her with a cold, suspicious gaze. "You will join me, so long as I accept these conditions?"

Starlight gave a feeble nod of compliance.

"You know what you must do," Sombra said.

"R-right here?" Starlight stammered. "Right now?"

"Yes, here and now. No need to make a ceremony of it."

Sniffling, Starlight climbed down from her seat, incredulous at what she was doing.

"Well, then?" Sombra said impatiently.

Shaking, Starlight slid her left hoof forward as she prostrated herself onto one knee. And slowly, ever so slowly, she lowered her head.

"Do you recognize me as your king, and renounce Celestia as she has renounced you?" Sombra intoned.

Starlight's mind flashed with the images of the bodies at the keep, the hanged corpses twisting in the wind with blackened tongues protruding from their mouths, the piles of ashes that were once living beings, the corpses mangled and strewn about like shredded ragdolls, and all the blood. So much blood. It painted the walls. It reddened the snow. Blood, blood, blood and bodies, it was all she could see in her mind.

"Do you pledge your fealty, mind, body, and everything that you are -- to me?" Sombra continued. "If you do, then rise. Rise, and so shall begin your new life as my apprentice."

On quivering legs Starlight began to rise, her left hoof shaking as she dragged it under her to push herself up from the rushes. She tried to elevate herself, but it was as though twenty stone had been added to her body weight. She envisioned equines and other creatures being slaughtered, torn to pieces, and brutally executed as they begged on their knees for mercy. But in her vision it wasn't Sombra who was killing them. It was her. She suddenly felt too weary to keep her balance, and she crumpled to the floor. Her voice was tremulous. "I can't... I just can't!"

Sombra sneered. "Pathetic. After all the opportunities I've given you. Do you honestly find it less ignoble to squander your gifts than to join my wife and I in our crusade?"

"Starlight, please get up!" Fluttershy pleaded. "Rise, please! Do it for the others."

Starlight Glimmer summoned every ounce of courage she could, and said through her tears, "I'll live a thousand lives as your prisoner before I suffer even one as your servant."

"What of the others?" The King demanded. "You're abandoning them?"

The words pained her to say, but she managed to force them out, through the solid lump that had formed in her throat: "They would do the same in my position. What are the lives of three mares compared to all the lives you'd force me to destroy?"

"Virtuous to a fault." Sombra narrowed his eyes disgustedly. "So be it, then. I'll have no choice but to ensure your friends will never be a threat to me again. As for you, I would advise you to get all the rest you can tonight, for tomorrow starts your new life -- in the mines."

When Frozen Hearts Beat

"I'm begging you, for the love you bear me, please don't do this!" Fluttershy's pleas were an echo that reverberated up and down the underground corridor. The queen breathed deep, heavy breaths as she struggled to keep up with her lofty husband's strides. "You don't have to do this!" she continued.

Sombra noticed the way his wife was huffing and puffing behind him. She was heavy with foal, and the smoky haze emitted from the torches ensconced along the stone walls of the poorly ventilated hall wasn't doing her any favors. He slowed his pace so that she would have an easier time keeping up with him. "Vows were made, little dove," he said, when she managed to fall in beside him. "I cannot go back on them, lest others believe me to be without teeth. Issuing a threat that is not followed upon is the worst mistake a king can make. Weakness breeds doubt. Doubt breeds unrest. Unrest breeds chaos."

"Is that what this is all about?" Fluttershy demanded. "You're going to butcher two defenseless mares in their beds, all because you can't stand the thought of our subjects thinking you merciful?"

"It's not about being perceived as merciful. It's about being perceived as weak."

"Mercy and weakness are two different things!"

"Mercy was not having my assassins summarily executed for their actions. Mercy was giving your stubborn friend the option to join me. The time for mercy is over. The time for action is now. I drew a line in the sand, and it's been crossed."

"You're seeing things in black and white again. What is it with you thinking that everything is either one thing or the other. Has there ever been a middle line with you! Can't you just for once in your life meet me half way on something?"

"Not on this. Mercy and weakness are two sides of the same coin. Do not confuse one for the other. I've told you that many times. It's like you intentionally forget every lesson I try to teach you; one ear and out the other."

"I could say the same to you! What have I told you about letting your heart be your guide?"

The King's nose wrinkled. "Mawkish, cloying, fairy-princess storybook excrement," He spat. "What would you have me do about these murderous friends of yours, shit rainbows at them?"

"I would have you consider other options!"

There are no other options to consider.

Sombra kept his eyes forward as he traversed the hallway, every step filled with intent. The two guards posted at the apothecary's laboratory were coming into view, their crimson cloaks drinking the light of the nearby torches. The sentries were stationed there as insurance. The King had wisely taken every precaution, to ensure that his would-be assassins would be right where he left them. For all Sombra knew, Celestia's offer could have been a ruse, to lull him into a false sense of security. She could have agents anywhere and everywhere, ready to extract his prisoners at the first opportunity.

Sombra's father had once told him that no king in history grew old by taking chances. It was the one valuable lesson the bastard had taught him, Tartarus rest his black soul. He didn't trust half of his staff, and he trusted Blue Blood even less. Even his own wife had been plotting behind his back, he had found to his discontent. It wounded him once she had confirmed his fears for him, but for the life of him he could not be angry with her. She had noble intentions. Yet, even the most evil among us can have 'noble' intentions... Isn't that right, father?

"You can't intend on going through with this," Fluttershy went on. From the moment they had left Starlight's chamber, she had been assailing her husband with nonstop pleas for mercy for her friends. Her desperation grew the closer they got to the laboratory.

"That's enough, little dove," Sombra said to her, gently. "This is a kingly duty. If you'd rather not watch, and I don't blame you if you do not, you can turn around. In fact, I would implore you to do so. You haven't been getting enough rest lately."

"How can I rest knowing what you're about to do?"

Sombra chose not to reply to that. She fully intended on begging and pleading until the deed was finally done, and nothing more could be said about it. Nothing he could say would convince her to do otherwise. The only question was: should he allow her to be present to witness their deaths? It would go hard on her. She may never be the same again.

"It doesn't have to be this way!" She took him by the hoof, when they were standing before the entrance to the apothecary's lab. She tugged at him in a feeble attempt to turn him around. "Let's just go back to our chamber and talk about this."

Sombra caressed her on the cheek and said remorsefully, "There has been too much talking. The time for talk is over, little dove." He freed his hoof from her grasp and sidestepped her.

The guards saluted him as he pushed the door open. The King looked to one of them and gestured for him to follow him into the laboratory. The sentry acknowledge the command with a silent nod before filing through the doorway behind him.

Sombra could see them once he was inside the lab. His wannabe assassins. His attempted regicides, laying silent and dead to the world in their beds. Soon they would be truly dead. All but for the lavender one. Like so many captive aristocrats before her, her status has saved her life.

Fluttershy stepped in front of Sombra, and embraced him fiercely, as if to physically hold him back. "If you love me you won't do this!" she cried.

She can't be allowed to watch, Sombra decided. It would destroy her. "Wait for me outside."

"I swear, I'll hate you if you do this!"

"So you've said." Sombra freed himself of her embrace. "This is not something you should witness. I ask again that you leave me to my duty."

"Duty?" Fluttershy scoffed. "So, you do your 'duty,' as you call it. You do away with Sunset Shimmer and Moon Dancer, then what's next? Where will you go from there?"

"After the bodies have been disposed of, I shall concoct the formula that will rouse the princess. After she has been awakened, I will have her bathed and fed before she is safely escorted back home. And that will be the end of it. We can finally put this nasty piece of business behind us, and we can continue to focus on building our kingdom."

Fluttershy glared up at him, blue eyes shimmering behind a film of tears. "How can you say all that so coldly? You're talking of murdering helpless girls in their sleep and then disposing of their bodies, like... like you're talking about taking out the trash."

"My love--"

"Don't you 'my love' me!" Fluttershy cut him off. "I swear, if you do this--"

"You'll hate me?" Sombra guessed. "So you've said. Twice."

"I'll leave you!" Fluttershy vowed. "I'll take the baby and flee somewhere far, far away. Somewhere where you'll never be able to find us!"

The Queen's declaration took Sombra aback. It was a rare occurrence when words could wound him. The trials and tribulations of his childhood had hardened him, rendering his skin all but impervious to societies slings and arrows, but his queen always seemed to know where the chinks in his armor were located. "This is folly!" He exclaimed. "Hollow threats do not become you."

"It's not a threat, it's a promise!" Fluttershy punctuated the end of her sentence with a stamp of her hoof.

"You would deny me your love -- deny me my own child?"

The Queen hugged her belly. "Our child," she corrected him. "You seem to forget that I'm doing most of the work, here. All you did was plant a seed. I'm the one who has to grow it."

"A contribution you certainly didn't seem to mind receiving," The King said dryly.

The guard that had followed them in shuffled his hooves uncomfortably.

"I've had enough of this." Sombra turned to the doorway. "You, outside, I need you to escort The Queen to our chamber."

The guard stationed outside slid into the doorway. "Yes, sire."

"What?" The Queen backed away from the approaching sentry. "You can't just send me to my room like you're my father!"

The sentry took her gently by the hoof, not daring to seize her as he might when apprehending a common thief or a trespasser. It was obvious that he only meant to guide her, but Fluttershy ripped her hoof away from him as if he was trying to abduct her. "Don't touch me. I'm not going anywhere!"

The guard looked at The King helplessly. "She doesn't want to come with me, sire."

Sombra sighed. "Please, my queen, don't make this more difficult than it has to be." He looked to the guard and nodded him on.

The guard approached The Queen again. "I'm sorry about this, your highness. Please be reasonable." He took her by the arm. She tried to pull away, but the guard held her firmly this time.

"Reasonable?" Fluttershy bellowed. "I'm the only one here who's being reasonable!" Suddenly, she threw herself into him and snatched his dagger from his sheath. The sentry tried to reclaim it, but he disengaged with a yelp when she slashed at him, opening a shallow cut across his exposed muzzle. "Stay back!" she demanded. "Don't... Don't make me do something I'll regret!" She then sidled herself between Sombra and the beds where her friends slept. "I won't let you do this!" she shouted, tears streaking down her cheeks. "I won't let you hurt them!"

Sombra made a slow advance toward her, careful to not excite her further. "Stop this foolishness. There's no need for this."

Fluttershy backed away, until one of the beds behind her permitted her no more space.

Sombra spoke as soothingly as he could. "I'm not angry with you," he promised, taking a step toward her. "Give me the weapon -- please."

"Stay back!" Fluttershy thrust the dagger out in his direction, the steal quivering in her tremulous hooves. "Don't make me hurt you!"

Sombra took another step. "Just give me the dagger." Then he took another step. He was just coming into reaching distance of her when he held his hoof out. "Give it here, and we'll forget this happened. I promise. I just don't want you to hurt yourself."

Fluttershy's eyes flashed. She suddenly turned the knife on herself, pressing the tip firmly against the center of her breast. "Not one more step!" she shouted, placing both hooves firmly on the handle. "You don't want me to hurt myself? Then back away!"

Sombra froze. The guards stepped back.

"You're going to wake all of them," Fluttershy demanded, her eyes wide, almost crazed. "Then, you're going to free Starlight. I'm taking them home."

A bluff, Sombra knew. "And what of the little one inside of you? You would willingly bring harm to our child?"

The Queen shook her head. "Just... Just stay back!" It came out as more of a plea than a demand.

Slowly, carefully, Sombra advanced on her, took her by her shaking hooves, then pulled them apart. The dagger fell and clattered upon the stone floor. "You must forgive me," he said. There was a heaviness in his chest. "Not today, or tomorrow, but I pray that someday you do." And then he pulled for the magic in his horn.

"What are you doing?" Fluttershy exclaimed, the panic in her voice rising. "What are you going to do!"

Sombra released the spell in a blinding flash of white light. Fluttershy's eyes rolled to the back of her head, her legs buckled, and she fell limply into her king's embrace. "Damn you for making me do this," he whispered.

One of the guards stepped forward. "What did you do to her, sire?"

With a heart full of regret, Sombra said, "A sleeping spell."

"Would you have me take her to her chamber, my liege?"

"Yes... That would be best." He handed her off to the guard, who placed her delicately on his back. "And, if you could, make sure the fire in our chamber is strong. Feed it if it needs it. The night is cold, and it grows colder still."

"Aye, my king." The guard saluted him before he turned and exited the laboratory with the queen on his back, his movements slow and steady, so as to not jostle his passenger.

The King waited for the door to close before he turned his attention on his attempted assassins laying vulnerably in their beds. "Right, then," he said to the second guard, "let's get this over with."

The guard obediently followed him to one of the gurneys, where he stood at the opposite side from his king. Sombra studied the mare laying before him. "Sunset Shimmer, I believe was this one's name." The King studied her gold and red hair, her copper toned fur. "Her name suits her. She embodies the sunset itself." He grasped the sheet covering her and peeled it back until it was mid length with her body, then he lifted his gaze to the sentry standing across from him. "Do you have your dagger?"

"Of course."

"Good," The King said, coldly. "Draw it."

The guard looked at him as if he wasn't quite sure he had heard the order correctly. "Draw my, uh, dagger, sire?"

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

"Fool, why do you think I brought you here," Sombra said, gesturing to the sleeping mare sprawled on the bed between them. "Is it not obvious what I want you to do?"

The guard looked down at the mare, unsure. He touched the compartment where his dagger was located, but he didn't draw it. "You want... You want me to do your-- To do the deed?"

To do your dirty work, that was what he was about to say, Sombra knew. "Yes," he said flatly, giving the guard an impatient look.

The guard placed his hoof upon the handle of his dagger, but he kept the blade firmly sheathed. "Sire," he said, "If I may be so bold--"

"You may not!" Sombra snapped. "Do as your king commands: Draw your dagger."

The guard mumbled something as he reluctantly unsheathed his blade.

"What was that?" Sombra said.

"I said..." The guard hesitated. "I said, I don't know if i can do this."

"You don't know how to kill?"

The guard shook his head. "I'll kill for you, sire. I would even die for you. But, this just feels wrong. It's one thing to strike down a combatant with a weapon raised to you, but to butcher a defenseless mare in her sleep... There's no honor in it."

"She's anything but defenseless," Sombra informed him. "She's an assassin. She tried to kill me. And she came damn close. I'll not risk a second attempt. Now, then, you just said you were prepared to kill for me. Prove to me that wasn't an empty proclamation."

"Yes, sire," the guard said, his tone meek and acquiescent. He looked down at the mare, then he looked at his blade. He upended it with the point facing down, then rested the sharp tip upon a gap between her ribs, directly where her heart was located.

"So, you do know how to kill," Sombra observed. "Very good. Now, in, to the hilt. Then back out, in two smoothe motions."

"Y-yes, sire," the guard stammered, but he did not move.

"She won't feel it. I promise you. She's practically dead to the world already."

"That is good to know." The sentry placed both of his hooves on the handle, he gritted his teeth, and then, finally... The leather rasped as he returned the dagger to its sheath. "I can't, sire," he said apologetically.

Sombra gave him a hard glare. "You're defying a direct order from your king?"

The sentry, shamed, averted his eyes.

The King sneered. I'm surrounded by sentimental fools. "Get out of my sight."

The guard looked more relieved than chagrined as he retreated.

The King espied the dagger on the stone floor. The absentminded fool who had let himself be disarmed neglected to reclaim it before he left. If you want something done right... He retrieved the blade and returned to his attempted killer's bedside.

The air in the laboratory seemed to take on an evil sort of presence as he stood over Sunset Shimmer, the blade flashing in his grasp. He felt that he at least owed her honors before sending her off. "Sunset Shimmer," he said, appreciating the name, and all the beautiful images it invoked. "You fought well." He took a moment to think of what else he could say about her. "Your eyes were blue, if I recall correctly. A unique kind of blue. Almost green, in the right kind of light. I wish I knew more about you, so that I could pay you proper tribute. Unfortunately, I only know three things about you: Your name was Sunset Shimmer. You fought well. And your eyes... Your eyes were blue..." He aimed the point of the dagger into the gap between her ribs. He lifted it, then hesitated as his queen's face surfaced in his mind. A profound and inexplicable sadness came over him, and he lowered the blade.

The King cursed himself as his vision began to blur. He wiped his face angrily with the back of his hoof. What's wrong with me! It had been centuries since he had shed an actual tear, he wasn't about to start now. I've been surrounded by sentimental fools for so long, I'm starting to become one.

His chest felt tight as he again forced himself to raise the dagger. He thought of his wife. Sombra swallowed his heart, whispered an apology, then forced the dagger to fall.

Black Basilisk Blitzkrieg

Ring-aling-aling-aling-aling

The strident keening of the adviser's alarm clock ripped her from the ether of her dreams. She opened her eyes to the darkness of her chamber, groaned, then reached behind her head to fold her pillow over her ears. The clock was an antique that unfortunately lacked a snooze button, and the two tiny bells above its round glass face emitted a rapid series of ear-piercing chimes that could wake the dead. It was perfect for rousing a deep sleeper such as her. However, its lack of a snooze function, or even a mechanism for locking the tiny hammer in place, meant that she was forced to endure the brass siren's penetrating cry until its gears wound down.

She uncovered her ears when the shrill twanging finally petered out, and groped blindly for her glasses she had left lying on the wooden stand next to her bed.

The somnolent mare rubbed the sleep from her eyes before donning her specs. She sat up. It was dark as night in her chamber. Other than the ruddy glow produced from the coals burning dimly in her hearth, and the fingers of pale moonlight bleeding through the cracks between her drawn curtains, everything was black. She focused her magic until her horn began to flicker. A pulsing orb took form before her. Like an arcane light bulb, it ignited the walls in a soft aquamarine luminescence. The light source she had conjured would most likely die out within ten minutes, but that was more than enough time for her to complete her morning routine.

She turned her head, squinted, adjusted her glasses, and the alarm clock's report of 4:01 AM came into focus. Usually, only the cooks and the guards were up at this hour, but this was the final day of the week. It was the morning she had to retrieve the financial report from the treasury... Yay for her.

She allowed herself another yawn and scratched her belly. A few nods and sighs later she managed to find the will to kick away her quilt and roll out of bed, lamenting the days when the treasury would simply send one of the financiers as a runner to deliver the report. But, due to an investigation that led to the discovery of treasury workers embezzling funds, and then forging reports in an attempt to cover their tracks, the silver mines had become two prisoners richer, while the treasury itself became two treasurers poorer. Since that day, Sombra trusted no one else but Ethey with the handling of the financial documents.

After a quick trip to the privy, Ethey cleansed her face and hooves in a basin of cold water. She brushed her mane till her tussled midnight blue tresses were straight and smoothe as strands of silk, then she bound her hair back with her cherished skull ribbon. She had her usual sleepy-eyed staring contest with her reflection in the vanity mirror before she finally got around to applying her cosmetics, which consisted of only black lipstick and eyeliner, dark colors that contrasted well with the whiteness of her ivory fur, yet matched the glossy, black polish coating her hooves. While she did own other cosmetic items, she could hardly be bothered to use them. Ethey was a minimalist with her own particular style; foundation, mascara, eyeshadow, they required too much time and effort for her to consider them to be practical. Besides all that, with her deceptively youthful appearance, too much makeup made her look like a porcelain doll, and she wasn't about to give Blue Blood ammunition for his farcical array of lackwit japes.

After giving her reflection one last look of appraisal, she hopped down from her stool and braved her bedroom's obstacle course of longboxes and strewn about graphic novels. She shambled past her drafting table, with its botched drawings and abandoned projects covering it like a crude quilt sewn and stitched from the cloths of apathy, skirted around her game table with her ongoing Ogres and Obliettes campaign carefully preserved amongst a myriad of empty soda bottles and crumpled food wrappers, then arrived at her wardrobe.

Ethereal Moon rummaged through the few articles of clothing she owned, until she found the parka her king had presented to her on her birthday a few moons past. The coat was black and lustrous as raven feathers, soft as velvet and finer than sable. The decadent rim of soft fur lining the hood was dyed a beautiful deep purple, her favorite color. Sombra must have really put a lot of thought into its customization. The raiment itself was every bit as luxurious as it was adorable, a valuable piece of finery to be sure, but the thought that it was a gift from her beloved king was what truly made it irreplaceable. She smiled confidently as she pulled the zipper up to her neck, feeling as though she could brave anything in that parka of hers. Anything, even the harsh tundra of a predawn New Haven.

The adviser tried to keep her teeth from chattering as she trudged up Peddler's Road. Crunch, crunch, crunch, came the rhythmic sound of the slush yielding beneath her tiny hooves, her breath steaming in plumes in front of her. The tawny firelight emitted from the spherical street lamps shone upon the surface of the fresh fallen snow. The stars were still out, and in the cold, dry New Haven sky they burned like torches. Far off in the distance the northern lights painted the horizon beyond the snowy mountains in a star speckled conflagration of pink and violet and purple. Beautiful was the hamlet in its twilight hours, like a picturesque postcard of a sleepy town nestled amongst the winter snows on Hearthswarming eve. It's beauty never ceased to enamor Ethereal Moon, cold as it was.

There were a few citizens already out and about in the predawn hours, to open their shops or set up their stands along the road. There was a roper roping, a baker was baking, a haberdasher haberdashering, and a cobbler was cobblering. A shoe shine boy wearing a newsboy cap was already hard at work polishing a guard's gauntlet to a mirror sheen with an oiled rag. His tip jar already had quite a few coppers in it. A barber was setting up his barber's pole near his chair in his open air station. Being the only barber in town, it wouldn't be long before he could afford to move his chair into his own shop. Perhaps he would eventually take on an apprentice or two.

"Madam Adviser," A patrolling town guard saluted her as he passed her on the road.

"Morning," Ethey replied, her greeting steaming in the frigid wind.

The shoeshine boy and his customer both noticed her when they heard her voice. "Madam Adviser," they greeted her in unison.

"Good morning, boys." The adviser dug into her coat pocket for some change and tossed a copper into the boy's jar as she passed them. The kid had a pretty good work ethic to be awake and on the job so early. Ethereal Moon was one to admire that kind of initiative.

The colt in the newsboy cap looked more surprised than grateful. "You want me to shine your shoes, Madam Adviser?" he called after her. "I have only one customer ahead of you, and I'm almost finished with him."

"Not wearing any." The adviser stopped and turned around to present her painted black hooves to the spirited young colt. They shined pristinely in the lamplight, like starfire glancing off the surface of polished onyx.

The boy looked at them with wonder. "Pretty," he commented. "I could still clean them for you."

Ethey put a lot of time and effort into her hooves; she wasn't about to let some kid with an oil rag and boot brush touch them. There were however plenty of red cloaks back at the palace with scuffed gauntlets and calloused hooves. "Tell ya what," Ethey said, "come by the palace around noon today, and I'll have a whole line of customers ready for you. Do a good enough job, and there just may be a silver in it for you."

The boy's eyes widened. "A-a whole silver?"

No, half of one, Ethey nearly derided, but then she considered the child's age and profession; a silver coin was probably more money than he made in a week. "A whole silver," she promised. "Plus all the tips you're likely to make. The King pays his guards well, and they all live in the palace and eat for free, so they have more money than they know what to do with."

"That right?" The youth scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I should start considering a different career."

His customer laughed. "Lad, when the day comes you turn sixteen, and you'd rather wear these heavy gauntlets than polish them, just let me know. I'll put in a good word for you. Until then, you mind finishing up? I don't want to be late for my rounds."

"Yes, sir," the boy said, startled, as if he had just remembered he had a client. "Sorry, sir." And after bidding the adviser a hasty farewell he turned himself around and got right back to work.

Ethereal Moon was approaching the crossroad that intersected the path just before the street widened out into the main plaza. The treasury was just around the corner. Thank Celestia, because her ass was getting numb from the cold. Either that, or she had frozen it off.

"Morning, little pony," a street vendor called out to her. Her stand was strategically located closest to the corner, all the better to be noticed by more customers.

"It sure is," Ethey addressed the Yak stalking her produce stand, but she did not break her stride. The cold was sapping her desire for conversation. All she wanted to do now was get to her office, where she could tip scales and crunch numbers in front of her fireplace.

"You look cold, tiny pony," observed the Yak, who's thick frame was well built for the climate.

"As a Wendigo's minge," Ethey replied curtly, passing her stand, then turning the corner.

"Tiny pony is funny! " The vendor laughed a boisterous laugh, her tepid yak breath billowing in the frosty air like ash from a volcano. "There are two ways Svetlana likes to stay warm. Would tiny adviser pony like to know what they are?"

Shivering, Ethereal Moon pulled her hood up before she forced herself to turn around. "Let me guess, they both involve smashing things?"

"Good guess, but no," Svetlana replied. "Also. Kind of racist. Not cool."

The adviser lowered her head, thinking of what she should say to that. She had little experience interacting with yaks. She had always thought they prided themselves on their proclivity to smash things. "Sorry if I offended you. I, uh... I hope I didn't come off as a bigot. Some of my best friends are yaks," she said, which was a damn lie.

Svetlana favored her with a forgiving smile. "Is okay," she said. "As I was saying, two ways Svetlana likes to stay warm: Svetlana likes to snuggle up to her big, strong bull." She shrugged. "But, since he is fighting up north, Svetlana does not have that option at the moment. And, unless you have a thing for yaks, and you can find yak who has a thing for tiny ponies, I doubt that is advice that will be useful to you."

I really hope this conversation has a point. "And the second thing?" Ethey said impatiently.

"Coffee. Delicious, thick, black, strong Yakyakistani coffee -- so scorching hot it will melt your insides -- so strong it will give your heart attack a heart attack."

The conversation suddenly became interesting. "Coffee -- you actually have some?" Ethey asked hopefully. It had been months since she had had coffee. At the moment, she would have been willing to trade a stack of her most valued comics for a single cup.

The grocer disappeared behind her stand for a moment. When she returned she held a steaming french press in her cloven hoof. "Just had some brewed. Svetlana normally charges five coppers a cup." She smiled playfully. "Buuuut~ Svetlana just happens to have the adviser's special going on today."

Ethey approached the Yak's stand, thirstily eyeing the steaming black liquid in the cylindrical container. "That's not necessary," she insisted. "I have money. Five coppers, right?"

"No, no," insisted Svetlana. "Advisers drink free today."

"But, you're running a business, I can't just--"

"Advisers drink free!" Svetlana pounded her stand, nearly smashing it in the process.

"Okay!" Ethey shrunk back at the Yak's sudden display of fury. "I-if you insist."

The Yak's bovine rage dissipated just as quick as it appeared. She smiled warmly and said, "Oh, but Svetlana does insist." She reached for the french press. A thick pillar of white steam rose pleasantly from the foam cup as the black liquid warmed its confines. "Tiny pony want sissy cream with that?"

Ethey adjusted her glasses. "Sissy-what? No, I'm good. I'll just take it black. Never had coffee from Yakyakistan before; I'd like my first experience to be an undiluted one."

"You make good choice, little pony. Yak hate cream. And that pumpkin spice stuff, don't get Svetlana started on that." The Yak grocer sealed the cup with a slotted lid.

Ethey took a cautious sip. The liquid burned her lips, but the warmth trickling down her throat was a welcome sensation. The jolt of energy she felt from the powerful elixir was instantaneous.

"Suddenly tiny adviser pony not look so sleepy." Svetlana smiled at her knowingly. "Good stuff?"

Ethey gave the coffee a look of approval. "I'll say," she agreed. "I just took a swig and now I feel like I'll be up for a week."

The Yak let out a hearty laugh. "Coffee beans from Yakyakistan are as strong as her people. Now all you need is that big, strong bull to warm you by the fire."

Ethey didn't have a reply for that. She took another sip from her cup to distract herself.

"Or stallion," Svetlana added awkwardly.

"Or neither," Ethereal Moon suggested. "Bull or stallion, the guys aren't exactly lining up at my door."

"Such self-deprecation," The Yak scoffed. "You probably intimidate them. Males can be so timid at times. They lay their eyes upon true beauty and their brains go to mush."

"Yeah, that's gotta be it," Ethey replied dryly before she took another sip from her cup. "Anyway, thanks again for the coffee. I really needed it."

"You just remember to come back and give Svetlana your business. I will always have cup ready for you."

"Thanks again." Ethey waved to her before she turned and continued her way up the northern road.

The twilight of the Eastern sky beyond Sombra's palace was just beginning to yield to the azure dawn when she arrived at the large double doors of the treasury. The sun would be rising soon, and The King would be expecting the report on his table by the time breakfast was served. The adviser had little time to waste. She carefully placed her coffee on the ground, and fumbled for the keyring in her coat pocket. Just need twenty minutes, she promised herself. In and out; I can be back at the palace by sunrise.

Ethey could feel the key catching the lock's tumbler with a satisfying clack. After the door was unlocked she stowed her keys back in her pocket and turned to retrieve her coffee. That was when something in the sky caught her eye. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her muzzle, squinting. The sky to the south was bristling with winged dots. There were hundreds of them, if not thousands. At first she thought Sombra's soldiers were returning from their campaign, but she hadn't received any news from the front in over a fortnight. As far as she knew The King's army was still fighting to capture the territories up north. Why would they be approaching from the south?

The closer they came, the faster they seemed to be moving. Stranger still, they appeared to be Griffons. Every single one of them. The flying units of Sombra's army were very diverse, there should have been at least a few Hippogriphs or Pegusi scattered amongst their ranks.

A sudden feeling of dread began to tug at her, as if a voice inside her was screaming for her to bolt herself inside the treasury and hide, but her curiosity took priority over her instincts. She stepped out from under the door's awning to get a better view of them.

A group of about fifty of them broke away from the rest of the flock and seemed to be heading toward the palace, while the others stayed their course.

Once they were close enough to the town, the larger group swooped without warning. They lobbed objects at the structures below them. Mere seconds afterwards multiple explosions and screams erupted from the road, while pillars of smoke began to rise from the market street.

Ethereal Moon felt her heart jump up to her throat.

Alarm bells began to ring.

A frantic stallion turned the corner from the main road, his eyes wide and wild with panic. A Griffon giving him chase dove upon him with a downward thrust and impaled him through the back. The long, curved blade was sticky, steaming and red when it exploded from his chest. There were no screams when the stallion went down. More red trailed the snow in the short distance he slid, then he came to a stop. His panicked eyes were wide and unblinking as the Griffon wrenched his blade free with a horrible steel-on-bone scrape.

The color drained from Ethey when the killer looked up at her. Without warning or provocation he immediately charged toward her, an ear piercing scream tearing from his beak. Flecks of red were sent flying from his bloody cutlass as he furiously whirled it over his head.

Ethey retreated for the treasury as fast as her little legs could carry her. In her haste she attempted to push the door open before remembering it could only be opened in the opposite direction. She only managed to crack the door open by a mere hair's breadth of space when an open talon struck the frame of the door, forcing it closed. The adviser, shaking, turned and pressed her back against the door, the Griffon looming over her with the perversion of a smile on his beak. Ethereal Moon could only look pleadingly into his eyes. "Please," she began, but she couldn't seem to form any other words.

The brigand laid the edge of his cutlass beneath her chin, then lifted her head upward to expose her supple neck. "Hmmm, baby back ribs."

Pirates! Ethey realized. Her hoof brushed something on the ground just then. Something hot. "I, uh," she quivered. "I'm riddled with parasites, you know." She surreptitiously curled her foreleg around the coffee cup. "You don't want to eat me."

The Griffon seemed too preoccupied with his relishing in her terror to notice. He pressed his blade firmly against her throat in preparation to slice it open. "When you get to Davey Jone's locker, tell them--" his one liner turned into a shriek when the splash of searing coffee scalded his face.

Ethey took advantage of the opening she had just bought herself and retreated into the treasury, leaving her would-be attacker to writhe in the snow. She locked the door behind her, for all the good that would do her. Her first thought was to seal herself in the vault, but since the Griffons were armed with black powder weapons it would be easy enough to blast their way in through the ceiling or the back wall, then she'd be cornered. She could play the 'stupid bitch' trope from every horror movie she had ever seen and hide under her desk, but that would be the first place anyone would check. That only left her with one option.

There was a violent pounding on the door just as Ethey was slipping out the back through her office window. She closed it behind her so as to conceal her means of escape. Hopefully her pursuer would waste some time searching for her in the treasury while she found a safe route to the palace.

Screams, explosions, and the clashing of steel echoed through the alleyway as Ethey scurried blindly down the narrow backstreets, running, ducking, hiding, looking carefully around every corner before scuttering to the cover of the neighboring structure. In the distance she could hear the tolling of the town bell, as numerous voices resonated for a call to arms. That meant that the town militia would have been made aware of the attack. By now every citizen who had volunteered to sign on for civil service would be racing toward the armory to equip themselves. The smarter ones among them would have already purchased their own arms and armor to keep in their homes. Many a creature would be kissing their wives and hugging their children before rushing out their doors to meet whatever was threatening their town head on. Meanwhile, the untrained among the populace, the weak, the young, the old, the lame, and the cowardly were either barricading themselves inside their homes or making their way to the palace for protection.

That was Ethey's current objective: get to the palace and assist in any way possible. It was all the adviser could do. It felt cowardly to hide behind stone walls while others were out fighting and dying, but she wasn't exactly a soldier. How could she be blamed? She couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag. No, she couldn't fight. She would just get in everyone's way. On top of that she was too valuable to The King to let herself be captured or killed.

Ethey slid to a stop when she turned a corner and came upon a dead end. There was nothing back here but some empty wooden crates and frozen barrels. She must have been behind the shops near where the Peddlers' Road began. There was a solid wall at the end of the alley. She would just need to get over it somehow, and she would be within spitting distance of the palace gates.

Ethey put her shoulder into one of the empty shipment crates and pushed it up against the wall. She then toppled a barrel over and rolled it to where she left the crate. She tried to stand it onto the shipment container, but she couldn't lift it, no matter how hard she tried. It wasn't a good time to be reminded that she literally had no more strength than that of a little girl. She tried one more time and gave it her all to heft the barrel, but she finally decided that it was an exercise in futility.

Ethey scanned around the alley for a smaller crate she could stack on top of the larger one, when a familiar-looking Griffon slid into view from around the corner. His face was red and badly burned, his eye pink and scorched. He seemed to be unable to open the other one. Now, he really did look like a pirate.

"There you are, you little bitch!" He came at her, cutlass in talon, quicker than Ethey would have believed.

Desperate, the adviser leapt on top of the crate she had pushed against the wall and attempted to grapple with the ledge. She couldn't reach, not even when she stood on her hind legs. She cried out for help in the hope that a nearby guard might hear her, when she was abruptly yanked off her improvised platform by her hair, then slammed so hard against the wall all the breath was driven out of her.

The pirate raised his cutlass. There would be no one liners from him this time. He was angry, the lust for murder written plainly in his burned and bloodshot eye. Ethey instinctively covered her face, as if that would somehow protect her from the blow. She knew better, but the reflex was purely reactionary.

The walls of the alley suddenly resounded with an eardrum-splitting crack.

Ethereal Moon dared a timid peek between her hooves. A thick leather cord was wound tightly around her persuer's wind pipe, his beak opened wide in a silent scream of agony. His face purpled as he clawed frantically at the lash around his neck, but there wasn't enough slack for him to so much as wedge a finger beneath the whip's constricting grip.

The wielder of the whip then yanked him back, and sent him careening into a pile of crates with a loud crash. That was when the advisor beheld her savior, and for the second time that day she was too stunned to speak.

"Bonjure, sha~" Shantae sang, in a jovial manner that seemed entirely inappropriate for the situation. Slung across his chest was a bandoleer of throwing knives and tactical pouches. A pair of leather vambraces were cinched tight around his corded forelegs. He wielded his whip in his right hoof, and his kukri was sheathed at his hind leg.

It took a moment for Ethey to regain her faculties. Her brush with death left her heart pounding so hard she could hear the rhythm of her pulse in her ears. "Where... Where in Tartaras did you come from?"

"Shantae spied you skulking about de alleys from de main road." The Cajun Earth Pony looped his whip into a coil with a practiced flick of his hoof. "Shantae wanted to make sure de belle fleur of his life was safe."

"How could you have spotted me with all the crap going on?"

Shantae smiled as he indicated the bullseye on his flank. "Ain't nuttin' gets past Shantae, sha," he boasted.

"Shantae?" The Griffon Shantae had sent reeling into the pile of crates was wheezing as he staggered to his paws and claws. "You're Shantae?"

"Oui." The bounty hunter turned to confront him with a shit-eating grin. "You been lookin' for Shantae?"

The Griffon tried and failed to stifle a cough. He rubbed his throat where the whip had left raw red marks. "You have no idea how deep the shit you're in, cowboy. You, that so-called king, those poxy whores of his; you're all so dead, you don't even know it." His grip tightened about the pommel of his cutlass.

Shantae secured his whip to a small fastening hanging from his bandoleer, then his hoof moved toward his blade. "Dis is not recommended." The sheathe rasped as the kukri cleared leather. He pointed it in the pirates' direction. "You should stick to attacking girls a quarter your size. Dey seem to be closer to your skill level, mon amie."

The Griffon, enraged by the taunt, raised his cutlass and charged. And then their dance had begun.

Ethey could only watch, wide-eyed and trembling.

Sparks flew as their blades kissed, the chaotic rhythm of sharpened steel filling the air. Eventually the pirate and the bounty hunter came to a standoff, when they locked their weapons together in an attempt to overpower each other. They circled, kukri and cutlass competing for dominance, as if an unspoken agreement was made to let the victor be decided by who could exert the most brute force. Suddenly the bounty hunter disengaged with a swift pirouette. The abrupt absence of resistance threw the Griffon off balance. He had to step wide to keep himself from falling forward, and that split second he left himself open was all the time Shantae needed to rebound, redirect, and lay the pirate's exposed throat open with one powerful backhoofed strike that bit all the way to the spine. When the bounty hunter pulled his blade free, the wound across the pirate's gaping throat wept a scarlet curtain. The cutlass fell loosely from his lifeless talon, and when he landed facedown in the snow an island of red quickly expanded around him.

Shantae buried his blade into the slush beneath him with a deep thrust, then pulled it out clean before returning it to its sheath. "Woo'dao, sha!" he cheered. "Wudn't dat some shit?"

With her back still clung to the wall, the only reply Ethereal Moon could frame was, "I-I didn't understand a single thing you just said."

"Heh," Shantae chuckled. "Yeah, Shantae gets dat a lot. S'like yankees don't get Ponish 'r' somthin'."

The adviser forced herself to tear her gaze from the still-warm carcass, with its mutilated throat exposed for the world to see. "I don't suppose you could escort me to the palace?"

Shantae cleared his throat. "Shantae typically abhors escort missions, but... Shantae supposes he could be convinced."

Ethereal Moon frowned. "Convinced? You just saved my life! What are you going to do now, leave me here to fend for myself?"

"You can think of the save as a favor." The opportunistic bounty hunter flashed a smile from behind those scarred, severed lips of his. "But dis thing you ask, it is a service, no? A service Shantae will provide, of course. But, it all depends."

Ethereal Moon liked the sound of that not at all. But what choice did she have but to take the bait? "Depends on what?" she conceded with a sigh.

At that, Shantae smiled and said, "What's it worth to you?"

The rest of Starlight Glimmer's night had been filled with restless sleep. She couldn't help but wonder if she had made the right decision. She was sure at first, but now, she was second guessing herself. Would her friends have truely made the same choice as her?

She would close her eyes only to wake twenty minutes later in a cold sweat. She dreamed of the mines that would be her new home. In her dream, the cot she lay upon was uncomfortable, and the one blanket she was given was thin, and hardly effective for staving off the chill in her cramped cell. The heavy iron collar around her neck was just snug enough so as to never let her forget that she was wearing it. She had to constantly endure it, even as she rested. The meals were bland, though they were nutritious, all the better to keep the miners properly fed so they could be efficient workers. The closest thing there was to a privy was a shallow trench in the ground. Privacy was a luxury not granted to anyone. Every waking second was toiled away in cold caverns and stifling tunnels. It was a bland, undignified existence; meaningless and devoid of all hope.

She closed her eyes, then woke again. This time she was crying. It was a different dream. Her friends were asking her why she had made the decision that she had. They looked at her with opened throats and accusing eyes, telling her that she might as well have killed them herself. She began to weep into her pillow. She decided that, once she had been delivered to the mines, she would end her own life. The rest of her life would have no meaning, and her friends were dead because of her. The least she could do was surrender her own life in penance.

She closed her eyes again, but when she opened them she was waking to the sound of an explosion that rattled the entire palace. She tried to sit up, but she lacked the strength. With her body as atrophied as it was she couldn't get up on her own without exerting herself. She heard bells, screams, and more explosions in the distance. What was going on?

A sudden sound at her door caught her attention. It opened, and in walked someone she didn't quite expect. A young girl, most likely a stewardess. Her face was streaked with tears. She pointed at Starlight with a sniffle and said. "She's right here. That's her."

"Good," a deep voice said. A Griffon entered the room after the girl. He wore a black bandana knotted behind his head. There was a sash around his waist, from which hung a scabbard housing some kind of curved blade. He didn't look like a guard, nor did he look like a servant.

"Uhm, hello?" Starlight said uneasily.

"Miss Starlight Glimmer?" said the Griffon, his voice deep as a growl and rough as gravel. There was a grading rasp to it, like steel on stone. The most perturbing thing about him however was the look on his face. His beak was smiling, but his eyes weren't. They were cruel eyes. Unkind eyes. Tinged with madness, and expressing the desire for nothing but to inflict pain.

Starlight felt uncomfortable under the Griffon's hostile gaze. "Y-yes... Who are you? What do you want?"

The Griffon didn't answer her. He instead looked at the stewardess he followed into the room and said, "Thanks for the help, love. Would'a never found her without you."

The girl nodded, then very timidly said, "I'll be going now, sir."

"I don't think so, poppet." The Griffon seized her by the hair, then yanked her so hard she was pulled off her hooves. She started to scream. "I still have some use for you."

"Hey!" Starlight tried to come to the girl's aid, but her enfeebled body rendered her unable to so much as sit up. "What do you think you're doing? Leave her alone!"

The girl frantically clutched at the burly Griffon's talon as she was being dragged across the floor by her mane, her hind legs kicking wildly against the rushes. "Let go, please!" Her cries were so fraught with anguish, they were barely intelligible. "You said you'd let me go if I brought you to her!"

"An' I mean to keep that promise." He dragged her all the way to the window.

Starlight thrashed for all she was worth to get out of bed, but she couldn't. She just couldn't.

"You promised you'd let me go!" The terrified girl repeated as she attempted desperately to gain her footing. Beads of red were beginning to run down from her torn scalp.

"You callin' me a liar, sweetheart?" He savagely yanked her head back, then slammed her face against the glass, a sprawling web of cracks expanding at the point of impact. The young mare's protestations escalated to hysterical pleas for mercy as her blood began to run in rivulets down her face.

Starlight turned toward the chamber door the Griffon had neglected to close behind him. "Someone!" she cried out as loud as she possibly could. "Anyone! Guards! Sombra! I don't care who, just, somebody get in here!"

The brute continued to ram the hapless girl headfirst into the pane, until the deep cracks were spread across the window's length. She was dead or unconscious by the time he lifted her off her hooves, and then he sent her lifeless body crashing through the glass. The window was shattered, and so was the poor girl, when she hit the ground far below.

The cold morning air immediately filled the room, and Starlight was suddenly horrified beyond words. That was, until the Griffon began to approach her. He cracked his knuckles and said, "Now that I've improvised us an exit, you'll be comin' with me."

"Get away from me, you psychopath!" Starlight feebly crawled back until she was pressed against the headboard of the bed. The fear in her was so prevalent she gave not so much as a passing thought to how undignified she must have looked, like a terrified rabbit cornered by a fox.

"Psychopath, me?" The Griffon clicked his tongue chidingly. "Such an ableist term. I'd prefer to be referred to as 'pathologically high spirited,' if you'd be so kind."

Just then a streak bolted through the doorway. It slammed into the unsuspecting Griffon and took him to the ground. The sword sheathed at the pirate's sash was sent sliding across the floor when they went sprawling. Joji had the Griffon mounted for a brief moment, raining down blows as hard and as fast as he could throw them. The brigand brought his arm up to check a punch. When the following hoof came at him he caught it in his talon. He freed up a leg and sent the teen reeling back with a hard kick to his chest.

They both scrambled to their feet at the same time, then they rushed each other. A grappling match then ensued. Joji managed to get his arms around his opponent, then propelled him backwards until he had him pinned against the wall. "Miss Starlight," he managed through a labored grunt, "run!"

Starlight couldn't run. She couldn't even get out of bed without assistance. She didn't know what to say. She tried to speak, tried to scream for Joji to just forget about her and run away, but the words just wouldn't come.

Joji looked back at her. "Starlight, just run, I can handle--" Joji never saw the dagger, but he felt it when the pirate slipped it out from under his sash and plunged it deep into his belly, all the way to the hilt.

Starlight finally found her words, and they came tearing from her lips in a shriek. "Joji!"

The youth went down, and suddenly he was a boy again. He cried out piteously as he held the gaping wound in his belly, tears running freely from his eyes as he twisted and writhed on the floor. The Griffon then leapt on to him, and drove his blade deep into his sternum. Joji's cries turned into a grotesque cacophony of gasps and gurgles as the bones cracked. When the dagger was ripped from the center of his chest, Joji's unseeing eyes were staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

"Swing and a miss, kid." the Griffon growled as he glowered distastefully at the blood on his dagger. He approached the bed and used the quilt to wipe the blood off of it before he returned it to its sheath. "Did he think he was gonna get some ass for helping you, or something?"

Starlight couldn't take her eyes off the body splayed in the center of the room. "He was just a boy," her voice quavered.

"An' now he's friggen wormfood. Funny how that works, innit?" The Griffon grasped the sheets covering Starlight Glimmer and tore them away. "Now then, come along, poppet. The captain's just dying to meet you."

Memories Frozen In Time

Winter Lilack blanched with surprise when she opened the door to her subterranean laboratory. The only sources of light were but a few candles lit here and there, lending the apparition lurking within her domain a shadowy appearance. "Sire?" she said, blinking.

The King's dark figure loomed over the husk of The Princess, looking down at her with eyes that betrayed no expression. "Are you here to treat them?" said he, not moving his eyes from Twilight Sparkle -- who stirred where she lay, a weak sigh escaping between her lips as she turned her head.

The apothecary goggled incredulously as she approached the inexplicably animate body lain out on the slab. "Did... Did she just--"

"Yes," said The King, as if he had anticipated the question. His eyes went from Twilight Sparkle to Moon Dancer. "The antipotion is beginning to take effect; soon they shall awaken."

"You're waking them?" Winter eyed a dagger protruding from Sunset Shimmer's bed, mere inches from her head. The thrust behind the blow had been so fierce the blade had been buried into the steel beneath the thick exterior layer of padding. He was going to kill her, she deduced. Something stayed his hoof at the very last second. "You're sparing your attempted regicides?"

"Aye."

"Why?"

Sombra's eyes flicked to her. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," was Winter's brusque answer. She grasped the dagger and levered it from side-to-side until she was able to wrench it free from its metallic pedestal. When she inspected it, she saw that the tip was badly bent and the edge was chipped. "Just curious is all. They tried to kill you, didn't they?"

"Aye."

"I've always taken you for the methodical type." The apothecary brought the dagger to her work table, where she laid it next to her elaborate assembly of retorts and bulbous flasks. "How do you know they're not just going to try to kill you again?"

"I don't, I suppose," Sombra admitted. He pulled Twilight Sparkle's blanket up to her chin when he noticed she was shivering. The candlelight caught his features when he lifted his gaze to look at Winter Lilac. It was there, in the scant illumination, that she could see how drawn his face was, his eyes red and raw as open wounds. Winter Lilac had never seen her king in such a forlorn comportment before. She had seen him roaring and blustering in his fits of rage, and he was oft brooding in his silence. She had seen him smile on a few occasions, always when he was in the presence of his wife. She had even heard him laugh, when the ale flowed, and The Queen would whisper bawdy suggestions into his ear as they supped together at their high table. Sombra was broody as often as not, quick to rage, and just as quick to forgive, but he had never been melancholy.

"I will leave you to your work," Sombra suddenly said. "They will be in a fragile state when they awaken, frightened and confused. They may panic if they were to witness me upon opening their eyes."

"My... My work, sire?" Winter stammered. "If you're waking them, what would be the point of me treating them?"

"The stimulant," Sombra said, with an icy patience.

"Oh..." The apothecary suddenly felt like a fool. Seeing The King in the state he was in had flummoxed her beyond the ability to reason. She looked away from him, chagrined. "Yes, I--I suppose they'll be needing it, won't they? I'll get right to work on that, then."

"I will leave you to it, then," Sombra announced as he made for the door. "I will send someone down to collect them within the hour. I will be sure to have a place for them at my table. The Queen should like that."

"You're breaking fast with your assassins?" A flabbergasted Winter Lilac said to the back of The King's head. Sombra gave no answer as he let the door shut behind him, leaving the apothecary to ponder over his strange behavior. Winter Lilac had never been so baffled in her life. She looked down at the body of The Princess ponderously, then shrugged. Orders are orders, I suppose...

The frigid wind was a razor. It tussled The King's dark hair, it snapped his crimson cape. It beat at his muzzle as he gazed down upon his kingdom from the lofty ramparts of his palace, the land the gods had abandoned. When he closed his eyes he relived the countless horrors he had witnessed as a roaming phantom. He could still hear the way the mare choked on her broken teeth as her attackers used her for their pleasure over and over again, the frantic cries of the filly as she was dragged from the cart, the way her screams escalated to a crescendo when the bandit through her down in the snow and mounted her, laughing. They all laughed, and jested, some of them had decided to take another turn with the mare they had captured, before they leashed the two with lengths of hempen rope and dragged them away, possibly to sell them, or to take them back to their keep, where an entire garrison of eager stallions would be waiting.

Other horrors and more flooded his mind. He tried to push the horrific thoughts out, but it was as if his memories had all colluded to break him of the tenuous grasp he had on his sanity. One horrific event led to the next, his experiences in the north as a phantom, then as a child. The first time he was forced to kill, the bandit's lifeless eyes looking up at him as the snow beneath him eagerly drank his blood. He felt his half brother's crossbow bolt pierce his heart. And he heard those awful words that had finally destroyed his mind. After ten years of struggling in the frozen wastes, fighting and killing, every day a desperate bid for survival, after realizing his father's betrayal, after getting shot through the heart, it was those words that had broken him. 'You are no son of mine, and you will never be king.'

When Sombra opened his eyes, he noticed the mortared stone of one of the cobbled battlements was crushed into gravel under his massive steelshod hoof, his ragged breath billowing in plumes as he wept. He looked skyward and noticed forms racing toward him, leonine phantoms armed with cutlasses, spears and crossbows. The palace beneath him shifted as an earth rattling explosion shattered the sky. And when Sombra looked down at the fletching protruding from his chest, he realized he had been shot.

Knee Deep In The Dead

The cherry blossoms rained down around her as Fluttershy, clad in all white, strode the long path to the alter. The immaculate lilies woven into her artfully braided mane shimmered like white gold when the sun's light kissed them. Her platinum crown was inlaid with pearls, a shining ring of laurels glistening with ivory dewdrops. Her gate was proud and dignified as she walked with an arm intertwined around her father's, who was doing everything he could to hold back his tears. Her mother, however, sat in the front row, and she was crying rivers, sniffing soft little sobs as Ethereal Moon handed her tissue after tissue. Discord was silently watching them from the balcony of Canterlot castle through eyes narrowed with rancor. He was usually the life of the party at occasions such as these, but there was something foul in his expression, a resentment, or was it disapproval? Fluttershy couldn't be sure. When his eyes occasionally fell upon Sombra, they seemed to sour with a baleful glare.

Sombra paid him no mind. His eyes were for Fluttershy, and for Fluttershy alone. He made that face he always made when he was trying to conceal his joy. It was a somber mask he wore, his eyes haughtily narrowed, his lips slack with indifference, but Fluttershy knew him all too well. The Queen knew that, beneath that veil of apathy, he was brimming with mirth. He never looked handsomer, all clad in his black silken doublet. His ensemble was complimented with a scarlet under shirt with ruffled cuffs and collar, and atop his brow gleamed a polished platinum crown girded with bands of gold and studded with masterfully cut red rubies. His cape was black velvet, with crushed red and purple gemstones gleaming in its fur mantle. Sombra normally despised such ostentatious regalia. He had always viewed such decadent finery as perverse and unmanly. But all he did, he did for Fluttershy, his queen and bride.

Sombra bowed before Fluttershy's parents and begged for their blessing and their forgiveness. He humbled himself before Princess Celestia and Luna and thanked them as his hosts, and offered munificent reparations for the destruction he had caused to The Crystal Empire on the dark day of his resurrection. He broke bread and shared wine with the citizens of Canterlot. He had even come to them bearing gifts, toys and candy for the children, silks and jewels for the mares, and barrels of fine brandy and casks of Nevermore's famous Bloodmoon ale for the stallions. Sombra had even commissioned for a crown to be forged for the little Princess Flurry Heart to grow into, who giggled when the king took her tiny hoof and kissed it.

Fluttershy tried not to cry as she looked up into Sombra's eyes, as Celestia recited the verbose intonations of marriage, waxing poetic visuals and pretty words to describe the bonds of marriage. Fluttershy could barely hear her over the sound of her beating heart.

They finally kissed after the 'I dos' were said, and at that, the entirety of Canterlot resounded with thunderous applause.

Fluttershy awakened to someone violently shaking her. A voice was yelling, shrill and loud. "Wh-what?" was the first word on her lips as her eyes fluttered open. The blur standing over her took the form of Prince Blue Blood when it finally came into focus. His eyes were wide, his breathing heavy. She turned her head and noticed a company of eight Redcloaks flanking her bed, all bearing grim expressions. What was happening? Wasn't she just at her wedding?

"I'm sorry for being so ruff with you, but you weren't waking up," Blue Blood explained. "Rise, my queen, we need to get you to the throne room."

Fluttershy's heavy eyelids were beginning to close again. The figures around her became blurry, then the world around her was dark -- then she was suddenly jolted by the sting of a mild slap. It was just hard enough to keep her from drifting off. It startled her more than it hurt her. The look on Blue Blood's face was remorseful, but urgent. "I'm sorry I had to do that, but we don't have time to lie around. We need to get you to the throne room, now!"

Fluttershy sleepily lifted her hoof to rub the sting from her face, when she was suddenly seized by the arm and pulled out of bed. "Again, you must forgive me for being so ruff with you, but this is life and death!" Blue Blood insisted. He then turned to the others and said, "Guards, we'll be navigating through narrow hallways. I need you in bottleneck formation, just as Mister Steelsong taught you in the academy. I need two of you in front, two in back. Mages and Marksmen, stay as close to The Queen and I as you can. At absolutely no point should you break formation. And be sure to mind your trigger discipline. No matter how close they get to us, you must not panic. I want kill shots, not quick shots. I'll have no friendly fire incidences, is that understood?"

Fluttershy was barely coherent. There was a loud chorus of "Aye m'lord," then there was the metallic cadence of armored soldiers scrambling into formation.

Blue Blood weaved his arm around hers. "Easy, My Queen. Lean against me. Steady yourself... Yes, just so. Good, now we're off. Please, we have to hurry. I'll explain things on the way."

"Wh-what?" Fluttershy said again, struggling to regain her acuity. All she could remember was a white light, then she was at her wedding, then Blue Blood was slapping her. There was... A chamber... I was in... Laboratory... A light... A flash... Sombra... Girls... Girls... Girls! "Girls!"

Blue Blood was forced to stop when Fluttershy kept her hooves grounded. "What, what is it?"

Fluttershy shook her head to stave off the drowsiness. Her mind felt fuzzy as she grappled with her senses. Sombra's sleeping spell had hit her with the force of a runaway carriage loaded with cinder blocks. "The... The girls! Where are they? Moondancer, Sunset Shimmer, are they okay?"

Blue Blood looked at her uncomprehendingly.

"The girls!" Fluttershy demanded. "What about Starlight? Is she still here? The prison transport hasn't arrived for her yet, has it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, now come on, we have to go!" Blue Blood took her again by the hoof, but she stubbornly refused to move.

"Answer me!" Fluttershy demanded again.

"The city is under siege!" Blue Blood finally said.

"Siege?" Perplexed, Fluttershy finally allowed The Prince to lead her on. The local bandits stayed a healthy distance from Sombra's capitol ever since the day he decapitated the warlord Tauren, and mounted his head on a spike amongst the ashes of his former keep. And that was back before Sombra had an army to do his killing for him. "Who would be so brazen?"

"Pirates," Blue Blood said, as he and his company guided The Queen through the narrow pass leading away from the bed chamber.

"Pirates? This far inland?" The news shocked Fluttershy to sudden alertness. She didn't have to be guided by the hoof anymore. Though her pregnancy had made her fat and ungainly, she forced herself to move quickly to match Blue Blood's gate stride for stride. "Where is my husband?"

"I could ask you the same question. We were hoping he'd be with you. Our group would be unstoppable with him bolstering our ranks. Do you have any idea where he may be?"

Fluttershy thought. The last place she had seen him was in Lilac's laboratory, before he... Her friends... Could he really have done it? "We were in the sub levels, last I saw him," was all Fluttershy would supply.

"Then, for all we know he could be taking the fight to the pirates somewhere else in the palace."

"They've made their way into the palace?" said Fluttershy, alarmed. "How -- how could they have gotten through our security?"

"They bombed their way through, that's how," Blue Blood went on to explain. "According to the reports a massive group of them flew in from the South. They're well organized and well equipped. They separated into two teams once they were over the town. One group formed a vanguard to harry the town, and the other group are acting as shock troops. They blasted the palace open from several different locations and began flooding in before anyone could know what was going on. They're indiscriminately cutting down anyone they see: guards, mares, children, it makes no matter to them. They're not looting, they're not raping, they're not taking prisoners, they're just killing -- combatants and noncombatants alike. Make no mistake, these pirates did not come here with the prospect of plunder in mind; they're acting like more of a death squad."

The information was digested to Fluttershy's growing disquiet. Everything was just happening too fast. She had questions, but she didn't know which one to put into words first. The girls. Her friends. Were they... Did her husband... Fluttershy had to push those thoughts aside for now. She couldn't be distracted while there was so much at stake: her kingdom, her people. My baby...

Fluttershy and her company continued on plodding silently down the soft red rushes of a wide stairway, whose walls were lined with new and old paintings set in frames of gold and silver. Many of them were now damaged or spattered with red. The path was paved with bodies of friend and foe alike. "We lost four guards just trying to get to you," one of the Redcloaks said, as he was sidestepping the body of a young girl, whose abdomen had been ripped open by razor-sharp talons. The way her forelegs were curled about her belly seemed to suggest she had spent her last remaining seconds trying to keep her innards from spilling out. Her eyes and mouth were wide and twisted with anguish. The pain must have been unimaginable. Not far from the disemboweled mare was the pirate who must have been her killer. His talons were caked up to the knuckles in half-dried blood. The smell of burned meat was about him as half of his body was charred from magic, and his chest was crushed inward, no doubt from a blow with some powerful blunted weapon. Farther down the hall was a dead stallion. A crossbow bolt protruded from the back of his neck as he lay slumped and lifeless over the corpse of a small colt, as if he had attempted to shield the boy from an attack with his own body, then the attacker simply reloaded his weapon and shot the child as he lay pinned under his would-be protector.

A sound that was half a shudder and half a sob escaped from between The Queen's lips. "Close your eyes, my queen," recommended one of her guards, as if that would somehow help. Fluttershy had already seen the gruesome scene that was the stairway, and closing her eyes would never make her unsee it. It was all she could do to keep her gaze focused forward and pray that she could at least keep up some pretense of courage.

The arch at the bottom of the stairs opened to the main third story corridor, a long windowless expanse of dreary cobblestone walls and dim firelight lined with oaken doors and brass sconces. They eventually reached a branching path, and after a brief conversation, everyone elected to take an alternate route to the palace foyer. They had fought the entire way to get to The King and Queen's bedchamber, leaving a trail of fallen guards and soldiers along the way. Perhaps a more indirect path would be less fraught with perils.

Prince Blue Blood unrolled a map of the palace he had been carrying with him, and under the light produced from his horn, he directed everyone's gaze to their current location, then traced his hoof through a maze-like series of lines that represented a myriad of obscure intersections and unfrequented side passages, until he finally found a way that would take them to the palace foyer.

One of the Redcloaks narrowed his eyes pensively. "That could add another twenty minutes to our route."

"It's the longer way around," Blue Blood agreed, "but it's likely to be the path of least resistance. We've left too many breadcrumbs for the pirates to follow. If we go back the exact way we came, we could be walking right into an ambush. I'm not interested in getting into anymore skirmishes, not while we have The Queen with us."

The guards seemed to like the idea, and when they all looked to their queen, Fluttershy had no choice but to bob her head in agreement with the rest of them.

The modestly used path upon which they tread was dim and growing darker. The candles mounted to the dusty sconces set in their tiny alcoves along the windowless stoneway were unlit. It was cold, and every once in a while a draft from an unknown opening would come moaning at them from out of the gloom. It was a dark, confined space. It was not unlike a mausoleum, only less joyful. Everyone traveled in grim silence, the only sound being that of clanking armor and marching hooves. The path seemed to span on into eternity until they finally came upon a large door bestrode by a stone archway.

Beyond the door was a narrow rounded path that sloped downward like a spiraling ramp. The air was starting to get warmer. "Be ready for anything when we get to the bottom of this tower," Blue Blood warned everyone. "If the map is correct, we should arrive at the South Wing on the second tier. We'll have a higher chance of engagement the closer we get to the foyer." And down the winding path they went.

They traversed through more blood stained chambers and corridors on the second tier of the palace, filled with death and twitching bodies, so fresh that the smell of decay had yet to fill the halls. This offered no reprieve to Fluttershy's senses, however. It smelled like a battlefield, the acrid scent of blood and shit clinging harshly to her sinuses. She noticed Blue Blood drawing a perfumed handkerchief out from his breast pocket, but he noticeably fought the temptation to use it to cover his nose and mouth. It wouldn't do for the nephew of Princess Celestia to look weak in front of Sombra's guards. Instead he offered it to Fluttershy. The Queen eyed it briefly, then forced herself to decline the offer. She stole a glance at the guards around her, who seemed to barely notice the scent at all. These were not Equestrians, they were New Havenites, and she was their queen; if they could suffer it then so could she. She took in a deep breath to acquaint herself with the foul odor and pressed on.

The sentries steeled themselves as they came upon a door located at the end of an L-shaped passage. The guard at the helm of their formation cracked it just wide enough to stick his head through and take a peek, as the others waited with baited breath for his report.

"What's taking so long?" Blue Blood said in a hushed voice. "Is it clear?"

The guard looked back at him. "It's hard to tell."

"What do you mean?"

"It's dark. There's only one thing I can see in there, and it seems rather suspicious."

"Suspicious how?"

"Have a look for yourself, my lord." And with a stiff shove he pushed the door open the rest of the way. A hushed collective of whispers and curses fell over the group as they gathered in close to peer inside, none of them daring to enter. Fluttershy had to extend her neck and stand on the tips of her hooves to see between the guards crowding in front of her -- and it was there, in the center of the darkened room, under the ruddy illumination produced from the flickering candles of a high mounted chandelier, a familiar looking Griffon lay bleeding on the stone floor. Numerous rivulets of red ran down her thigh from a crossbow shaft sticking out of her leg. Her beak and wrists were bound with lengths of thin twine. She wasn't moving, but she was breathing.

"Zoey!" Fluttershy exclaimed, shoving past the guards.

"Wait, it could be a trap!" A guard made a grab for her, but all he managed to pull back was a hoof full of tail hair.

The guards were forced to scramble in after her. One of the Unicorns in the group cast a flare of magical light, but in his haste he made the orb brighter than he intended.

The three pirates who had been silently waiting in the dark for someone to take the bait were blinded by the sudden illumination. One of them shielded his eyes with a squawk of dismay. The other two were spewing every expletive known to Griffon and Pony kind as they fumbled for their cutlasses. In the heat of the moment Fluttershy could only throw herself over Zoey and hope her Redcloaks would get to her before the pirates could.

Blue Blood and company took advantage of their ambushers' disorientation. One of the pirates had been instantly killed when a bolt of charged magic fired from one of the Unicorn guards blasted open the side of his head with a spray of pink mist and skull fragments. The other two were felled in a storm of steel when the guards rushed and immediately overwhelmed them.

Fluttershy spared the now-dead Griffons the briefest of glances before she pillowed her arm beneath Zoey's head and propped her up. "Hey, Zoey, I'm here. Please, open your eyes." She attempted to undo her binds, but her shaking hoof was far too clumsy to work around the intricate sailing knots the pirates had made. Tugging and pulling at them, she felt as if she was only making them tighter.

A Redcloak approached with his dagger drawn. "It's not my place to chide you, my queen," he was saying, as he worked his blade carefully through the binds around the Griffon's wrists, "but please don't charge ahead of us like that again." He then slid the blade through the fine cords around her beak.

Fluttershy knew there was a lesson to be learned from her brash action, but... "Zoey, hey, can you hear me?"

The Griffon opened her eyes halfway. Her voice was so low, so weak, Fluttershy had to lower her head to hear her words. "My... Baby..."

"Your baby... Zuzu?" Fluttershy remembered the dead colt she saw back in the stairway. These pirates had no qualms about killing children. A heavy sensation of dread was beginning to form deep in the pit of her stomach. She lifted her gaze and eyed the pile of victims stacked like heaps of trash in the far corner of the room, now visible through the magelight the Unicorn had cast. "Please, don't... Don't tell me..." The Queen laid Zoey's head down on the stone floor as gently as she could before she went to investigate.

"My queen, we don't have time," a guard insisted.

"Just a moment!" The Queen demanded, her eyes glistening as she sifted through the flesh. It wasn't long before she found the young griffon Zuzu among the dead. His head sagged from a broken neck as Fluttershy lifted him from the pile of lacerated cadavers, limp and loose as a damp length of hempen rope. She had to prop his head up against her shoulder to keep it from dangling grotesquely from side-to-side as she carried him over to his mother.

The Queen felt a rent in her heart as she watched Zoey curl up with the body of her son on the floor. She caressed her pregnant belly as she wondered and dreaded what that must feel like, to hold your dead child in your arms. The pain from the bolt embedded deep in her leg seemed nonexistent by comparison. Aware that there were no words that could ever console her, Fluttershy allowed Zoey as much time to grieve as she dared, before she finally said, "Zoey, I'm so, so sorry about your child, but we have to keep moving. There could be more pirates close by."

Zoey, too weak to cry as she cradled her son's head against her chest, shook her head.

"Zoey, I can't even begin to imagine how you must be feeling, but we have to put our grief aside for the moment. If you can't stand we can carry you."

Zoey shook her head again, then tried to say something before she was interrupted by a weak rasping cough. She looked as if a terrible illness had taken her, Fluttershy was beginning to notice. The Queen lowered her head to better hear her, and she blanched when she heard the Griffon's words. "Manticore... Venom..."

"Manticore Venom?" The Queen looked again at the crossbow bolt protruding from her thigh. The angry flesh around the shaft was ringed in sickening hues of green and brown. The veins near the wound were becoming dark and visible, a web of ink sprawling beneath translucent skin.

"Mercy." The guard who had cut Zoey's bonds indicated his dagger. "Do you want it?"

Zoey gave a weak little nod. She didn't even have to think about it.

Fluttershy whipped around to give the Redcloak a look of reproach. "Mercy?" she exclaimed in outrage.

"Don't think me without pity, my queen," replied the guard. "Manticore Venom is nasty stuff. Once it's mixed in with your bloodstream it begins to eat you away on the inside. It breaks down the tissue in your organs, and in the end your body is nothing more than a sack of jelly. A blade through the heart would be much kinder, I assure you."

Fluttershy looked to Blue Blood in the hopes that he could frame a decent protest. He could only look away and offer, "In any other case, I would tell someone to not give up... 'It isn't over 'til it's over,' or something to that effect, but..." He seemed to hesitate in the way a doctor might before notifying their patient of a rather unfortunate prognosis. "We wouldn't be able to save her. Her leg hasn't been tied off. The venom has already circulated throughout her system. Even if we had an antidote for Manticore Venom, which we don't, it would be too late to administer it."

Fluttershy could only watch helplessly as the guard with the dagger knelt down beside the Griffon. "If you have anything to say, now's the time," he said, brusquely but not unkindly. Decades of living in the frozen north had the tendency to make one hard and unflinching by the prospect of dealing death.

Zoey reached out with a talon and took The Queen by the hoof. Her grip was frail and tenuous, but there was a firmness in her gaze. She was too weak to speak, but the look in her eyes conveyed more than words ever could. It wasn't a plea for justice. It was a demand.

Fluttershy gazed deep into those amber pools of hers, and the message was understood. A tear ran down her cheek as she tightened her grip about Zoey's talon, and she gave a single nod. "For you, for Zuzu, for everyone, not one death will go unaccounted for, I promise."

That seemed to satisfy Zoey. She released Fluttershy's hoof, and decided to spend her last seconds alive with her arms around her child.

The guard placed the tip of his dagger between her ribs. "On three... One... Two..."

Zoey drew her final breath and tensed up in preparation for what was to come.

"Three."

And in one quick motion the deed was done. Zoey's embrace tightened around her child as she gave a shuttering sigh. For an instant she was taught as a bowstring. Then, she went slack, her grip loosening around the body of her sweet babe as her eyes closed, and then she was gone, peace spreading across her face.

Fluttershy wanted so badly to cry, but not here, not now. She used a banner hanging on a nearby wall to cover both mother and son where they lay. She took one silent moment to gaze down at the golden mongoose emblazoned on the indigo cloth, remembering its meaning. I am a mongoose. My kingdom is my garden. And my garden has become infested with snakes. She wiped her eyes and vowed to herself she would cry no more, not until this was over. She again eyed the bodies stacked up in the corner of the room, and dedicated each and every single one to memory.

The palace foyer would be on the other side of the broad double doors at the end of the hallway they traveled down, and at the opposite end of the foyer would be the monolithic reinforced oaken doors of the throne room. The massive doors were weighted with an internal layer of lead and it's drop bars were four thick slabs of solid steel. The stain glass windows above were solid as diamond, and there was only one way to enter or exit. Should any enemy be able to muster the incredible force it would require to batter down those doors, they would have to bottleneck in order to enter the throne room, making them easy fodder for a group of spell casters to dispatch. The throne room of the palace was the first and last refuge from any type of madness that threatened to consume the town, and it was from there The Queen and King could send out their orders whilst protecting those who clamored for sanctuary under their roof.

Fluttershy could hear the sounds of battle echoing up the hall and she knew that, on the other side of those doors, there would be carnage. Her heart was in her throat, but she and her company could only force themselves to press forward. There was no going back at this point. The sentries at the front of their formation grasped the iron rings of the doors. They looked at each other, looked back at the guards surrounding Fluttershy. Blue Blood hid his anxiety behind a hard grimace, but his quivering breaths betrayed his bravado. He nodded a signal, and the guards pulled the doors open.

Fluttershy had a grim view of the havoc boiling down below from the second story balustrade. The front doors giving entry to the palace foyer lay blasted and splintered over the bloodstained rushes. Her guards and soldiers were desperately trying to hold their ground, but they were quickly being decimated by the numerous battalion of pirates that had poured through the entryway. Fluttershy witnessed a Redcloak taking a cutlass in his throat, another went down screaming as a spear point punched through his breastplate and chainmail. One exceptionally skilled fighter who was cracking skulls and crushing limbs left and right with lightening quick blows from a spiked maul was distracted by a foe, while another rounded him and drove the tip of his blade through the fine gap between his helm and mail. The fighter went down without so much as a yelp of surprise. Fluttershy goggled horror-struck into the writhing tumult. She was accustomed to overlooking battles raging on from the safe distance of a hilltop or rampart. Seeing the mayhem unfold at such a close distance was an entirely new experience to her. So, this is war, she thought. There was no honor to be won here, no glory to be had. It was just blood, and violence, and death, and madness. Fluttershy hated it. But she hated the pirates even more.

A guard was cursing as he joined Fluttershy at the railing, despairing. "They blasted open the front doors, too? Damn me, look how many of them there are!"

Another guard indicated the doors of the throne room. They were located opposite from them just on the first floor. They were already closed, and those who had taken refuge behind them weren't likely to open up while a battle was still raging on the other side. "My lord, the doors, what should we do?"

Everyone was looking to Blue Blood at this point. He looked unsure. "We'll make a straight run for the throne room," he ventured. "They'll have to let us in once we tell them we have The Queen with us."

"Through all that?" demanded a sentry, indicating the battle down below.

"I..." Blue Blood stammered.

Not even he knows what to do now," Fluttershy realized. There was a battle being fought directly below them. The foyer doors had been blasted open. The doors to their refuge was already sealed. This was the worst possible development they could have stumbled upon. Fluttershy's eyes kept going back and forth between the fighting on the first floor and The Prince who had, up to this point, fancied himself a commander.

"We have five magic users between us," one guard put forth. "We could possibly levitate ourselves to the doors."

"The doors are shut, you moron!" chided another. "You really think you can get those big ass doors open and closed before we're noticed?"

"I could fly The Queen somewhere safe," offered a Pegasus guard. "The Queen and I both have wings. One of you Unicorns can cast a cloaking spell on us, and I'll take her far away from all of this."

"What about the rest of us?" demanded an Earth Pony.

"What about the rest of us?" another spat. "The Queen is our priority, you coward!"

The Queen looked down again at all the fighting, weighing the odds, considering her options. And just then. "Ooh!" Fluttershy squeaked when she felt a sudden jab of pain, deep in her lower belly. As if in response to her trepidation, she felt the life inside of her shift. The baby kicked for the first time. The world around her stood still for that moment. Rapturous joy, that's what she should have felt, but in her mind's eye all she could see was a mother curled up with her dead child on the floor. Zoey...

A terrible rage began to kindle within her. A hatred, monstrous black and hungry for retribution. A tempest. A mad desire to inflict pain. A ferocity. The kind of ferocity only a mother desperate to protect her child could know. Looking down from over the railing, her shimmering blue eyes narrowed with a vengeful fury.

"We should turn back," Another guard said, as the bickering continued. "We could probably find a decent hiding place somewhere in the palace sub levels."

"What, and stumble into another trap like the one we found back in that dark chamber?"

"We have the high ground!" Fluttershy shouted over them. All were now looking at her. "They're down there, we're up here. We have the element of surprise in our favor. Our Unicorns and marksman can set up a firing line."

The guards began to trade looks with one another. "But, they're Griffons, my queen," one of them pointed out, as if Fluttershy was unaware of the fact. "They could easily reach us up here. And we're so few."

Now it was Fluttershy's turn to point out the obvious. "They're currently engaged with our allies on the first floor," she said pointedly. "The pirates will be dismayed and uncoordinated once they realize they're fighting a battle on two separate fronts. The ones who do decide to charge us will have a distance to cover before they'll be able to reach us." She looked to the guards armed for melee; spears, flails, steel gauntlets. There was even a Pegasus equipped with a spiked shield. "And if they manage to converge on our firing line, they'll have the rest of you to contend with. Make sure to not let yourselves be seen until it's absolutely necessary. I want them to underestimate our numbers."

Blue Blood looked astonished. "There's a lot of mights and maybes in that plan. How do you know it will work?"

"I don't," The Queen admitted. "If we fight, we may die, but if we run away, trust me, no death will be surer. We could retreat, as all of you have been suggesting, but how far do you honestly think we'll get? They're blasting the palace away piece by piece, they're killing anyone and everyone they see, how long do you think it will be until they find us?"

"But, Sombra--"

"We don't even know where he is!" Fluttershy shouted The Prince down. "He can't possibly protect us if he's not even here. At this point our only chance for survival is to fight. Now, if anybody can come up with a better plan, I'd like to hear it. If not, get into formation!"

The guards were silent.

For that moment, Fluttershy could swear she smelled rebellion. Fear had the power to drive even the staunchest of stallions to make regrettable decisions. She felt a single drop of sweat run down the back of her neck. If they balk me, all is lost.

A single Unicorn stepped forward. He took up formation, his forefronts acting as a bipod as he placed them upon the railing of the balustrade to steady himself. His horn glowed as he charged for a ranged attack. "Come on, you cowards. You wanna live forever?" he taunted the others from over his shoulder.

An Earth Pony armed with a crossbow stepped forward with a grin. "You sure as tartarus won't, with the way you shoot," he quipped, lying prone at the ledge and aiming the head of his quarrel between the balustrade's rungs.

One by one the guards started to fall in line. The ones who were not hiding their fears behind a wall of jests and quips were shaking their heads and mumbling grim expectations. Unicorns and marksmen took up the front line, while the others crouched low with their weapons in preparation to pounce. Even Blue Blood stepped forward into formation. He took a deep breath, and his horn glowed as he charged his magic. "On your orders, Queen Fluttershy," he said with a sigh.

Fluttershy looked over the railing, ignoring the reluctance in the Prince's tone. "Select your targets," she said. "Pick those who seem to be the strongest and the fastest of the group first."

Horns and crossbows adjusted as their wielders zeroed in on various targets.

The Queen shook as she raised her hoof in the air. It was her first time ever giving the direct order to kill. There are two kinds of rulers in this world: There are those who do as they wish, and there are those who do as they must. Fluttershy's hoof fell, and her command echoed through the walls of the foyer. "LOOSE!"

Bolts of light and wooden shafts rained down from the second floor, rapidly dispatching unsuspecting Griffons down below. Confused Redcloaks and Bluecloaks looked up and beheld their support.

Fluttershy felt a rush of fire within her as pirates screamed and died at her command. She lifted her hoof high and shouted, "RELOAD!"

Horns gleamed as a second volley of spells were charged. Deft hooves worked rapidly to replace spent quarrels.

"LOOSE!"

The foyer erupted in another cacophony of cries and caws as bodies were being perforated, while others were sent scrambling to avoid the projectiles. The guards and soldiers on the floor level took advantage of the confusion. A distracted pirate fell when a halberd cleaved him shoulder to hip. Another Griffon's head was bashed in just as he was stumbling out of the way of a speeding crossbow bolt. A yak shod from head to clothed hoof in heavy steel plate gored a Griffon on his horns and slammed him violently into the unyielding palace wall, where he slid down and slumped lifelessly to the floor. A Griffon dawning Sombra's crimson cloak intercepted a pirate charging toward Fluttershy's company in the air and shredded him to gory ribbons with his talons. The Griffon guardsman was converged on by another pirate and a furious duel of slashing blades and razor talons ensued until the attacker was brought down by one of the marksmen's shafts.

"LOOSE!"

And another wave was brought down by bolts of wood and magic.

A few of the pirates had decided to abandon the fray on the first floor all together to try their luck with the ranged units posted at the balustrade. They took flight, and the ones who were not waylaid by pursuing Griffon guards and Pegusi, or brought down by the firing line, were met with a rude awakening when the hidden members of Fluttershy's guard sprang to their hooves and rushed the railings with rueful grins plastered on their faces. One of them seized a Griffon and pulled him over the railing to trample him into pulp with his heavy mailed hoofs. Another pirate making a grab for one of the magic users with his talons was sent plummeting lifelessly back to the ground when his head was caved in with a flail. Two pirates were skewered with spears, and another was rammed back over the railings by the Pegasus wielding the spiked targe. The Griffon's impaled body made a sound like a sack full of broken glass when he hit the tiled floor down below.

The fighting continued for a time. Decimated and scattered, the Griffons were eventually forced into retreat when they must have realized the advantage of superior numbers was no longer in their favor. It started with one, who threw his sword down and took flight. Two more followed his example when they noticed him taking off. Then two became five. Five became eight. Eight became twelve. And so on, and so on, until not one was left standing. Quite a few pirates were shot down as they fled, but the bulk of the group managed to get away through the blasted open doorway.

"Guards, stand down. Don't pursue them," came Fluttershy's order. She sagged against the railing, panting as sweat glistened down her face. Her throat felt raw from shouting orders, but it was too early to take a break. "Unicorns, hurry up and get that entrance sealed."

And a team of spell weavers got right to work. With their magic combined they were able to lift the doors and set them back in the doorway, while others placed temporary seals to hold them into place. The wood was blackened, splintered, and full of cracks; it didn't look very pretty, but it would serve as a temporary barrier.

Fluttershy descended the stairs with her armed escort as they worked. A Griffon dawning the Redcloak of Sombra's guard met them on the first floor with a salute. "I'm glad you showed up when you did, my queen."

"As am I," The Queen said.

"What are your orders?"

Fluttershy thought. "First thing's first. We need to make sure the palace is secure. Round up as many guards as you can. I need you to conduct a thorough patrol of every floor. Make sure there are no stragglers. If you find any citizens in hiding bring them back with you." Another thought entered Fluttershy's mind just then. Daring to hope, she added, "There should be a mare in the Ambassadors Wing. Starlight Glimmer is her name: purple unicorn, highlights in her mane and tail, magic star for a cutie mark. Please, handle her with care, and bring her back here immediately if you see her. She won't be able to walk on her own."

"What if she's dead, my queen?" asked the guard.

A lump formed in Fluttershy's throat. It was a hard reality to face, but if that was the case... "Yes. Just, bring her back, in whatever shape you find her in." Her father will want the remains delivered. The last part was too hard to say aloud.

The Griffon placed his fist over his chest in salute. "Aye, my queen." And he was off in search of volunteers to help him comb the palace for pirates and palace staff.

Next order of business, The Queen thought, approaching a guard bearing the indigo cloak of the city watch. He saluted when he noticed her approaching. "I need you outside."

The Bluecloak cocked his head to the side. "My queen?"

"I need you to do some recon for me. The pirates, I need to know their numbers. I also need to know how the militia is fairing against them. I plan on sending out more troops once the palace has been cleared, but I need to know where to send them. Be sure to avoid conflict at all costs. I'll be expecting your report within the hour."

The town guard nodded. "It will be done."

After the doors of the throne room were fortified, and Fluttershy's orders were sent out, she and her escort made toward the throne room. Prince Blue Blood pounded on the door. "The fighting is over," he shouted. "Open up, in the name of The Queen."

There was a bout of silence. Then, "You have The Queen with you?" came a muffled voice from the other side of the door.

"Yes, now let us in."

"And who might you be?"

"I am The Prince of Equestria!"

"Oh, go pull the other one. You sound like a pirate."

The Prince purpled under the accusation. "How dare you associate me with those mongrels!"

"We will only open the doors for The Queen herself. Let her speak or sod off!"

"I am not accustomed to being trifled with in this manner, you lowborn--"

"Just open the doors already!" Fluttershy broke in. "We have wounded out here."

There were numerous voices on the other side of the door. The only intelligible words Fluttershy could make out were 'The Queen' over and over again, as the drop bars were heard being lifted from their brackets. The oaken slabs parted, revealing the stallion who had challenged The Prince. "Thank goodness you're here, my queen."

Blue Blood narrowed his eyes. "No thanks to you cowards. Your queen was out here, and all you and your lot could think of was protecting yourselves."

The stallion seemed to shrink under The Prince's accusing gaze. "I... A thousand pardons, my lord, but we didn't have a choice. What with the foyer doors being blasted open and all... And it wasn't just ourselves we were trying to protect."

"What do you mean?" asked Blue Blood.

The stallion stepped aside and beckoned them to enter. "The King. My queen, you'll want to see him. We can't figure out what's wrong with him. He fought to protect us all the way to the foyer. But the moment we made it to the throne room he just collapsed."

Blue Blood and Fluttershy gave each other a look before they rushed into the throne room.

There were dozens of them huddled around in a circle before the dais, stewards and stewardesses, the spa attendants, maids and servants, cooks and servers. Nevermore turned to look at them, her catlike eyes shimmering with tears. Violet Viola was weeping inconsolably.

"What's happening?" Fluttershy demanded. "Where is my husband? What's happened to him?"

The throng parted for her, and that was when Fluttershy saw him. Sombra lay at the foot of his dais. His visage was twisted in a horrible grimace of pain. And there was a web of black veins spreading from a gaping wound in his chest.

My Love

They flew several Kilometers before the pirate encampment was visible, a bustling city of fur tents and bonfires defensively parameterized by a ditch lined with wooden stakes.

Starlight Glimmer had struggled against her captor for half of their flight, until he finally got tired of her thrashing and demands to be let go. To Starlight's regret he gave her her wish, and that bit of malicious compliance had earned her a broken leg when he released her and allowed her to plummet into a snowbank far below. He'll catch me, she had thought, as the tundra came rushing to meet her. He's just trying to scare me. It won't work! The next thing she knew, tears were filling her eyes, and a scream was tearing from her lips as she lay half buried with her arm contorted in a painfully unnatural angle. The bone was not just fractured, it was broken all the way through, severed into two sections between elbow and wrist. "You bastard!" she cried.

The Griffon pretended to be perplexed as he said, "I thought you wanted me to let you go."

"Why are you doing this to me!" Starlight screamed in a voice shrill with agony.

"Why does anyone do anything, love?" The Griffon said, examining her injury.

"Get away from me! Stop, wait, what are you doing!"

The Griffon took her broken foreleg in his talon and gave it a sharp twist where the bone had snapped. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

All Starlight Glimmer could think of was the pain, tears freely running down her cheeks as her mouth and eyes gaped wide in a silent scream. It hurt so bad she couldn't even suck in a breath.

"Now you know what happens to little fish who squirm," the pirate said impatiently. "They get dropped on the deck."

Starlight retched, the sour bile filling her mouth and stinging her nostrils.

The pirate waited for her to finish before he grabbed her by the mane and jerked her head back, forcing her eyes to meet his. "You'll be comin' along nice and quiet-like. No more words."

Starlight felt her scalp tearing beneath his iron grip. Scarlet beads were beginning to run down her face. "My mane!" she screamed.

The pirate drew his fist back and struck her hard across the cheek.

Starlight's eye socket cracked under the blow. "Please!" she gasped.

He punched her again, this time square in the lip, then in the nose.

Starlight raised a pleading hoof and whimpered something unintelligible as he drew his fist back for a fourth blow. Not even she knew what she was trying to say.

The pirate didn't strike her again. Instead, he just glared at her, tightening his fist until it made a series of little pops, then he let his fingers relax. "If I carry on like this I'll kill ya. The cap'n wouldn't like that, no she wouldn't. Don't think that means I can't hurt ya, though. You still got three more legs to break, so I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you. Understand?"

Too afraid to speak, It was all Starlight could do to hold her broken foreleg as her breath steamed the frigid air in ragged hiccups.

The pirate took her silence for submission. He released her mane and let her face fall nose-first into the snow. "Smart girl."

They flew the rest of the way with his arms around her, her broken foreleg dangling painfully without support, swaying to the cruel whims of the headwind that buffeted them. If she dared make so much as a squeak he would grab a fistful of her belly flesh and squeeze. He only had to do it once to keep her silent, and now on top of her broken leg, an eye that was swollen shut, and a busted nose that wouldn't stop bleeding, she had four raw prong marks in her side to mark where his talons had broken the skin.

A stab of pain surged up her twisted limb when her captor abruptly dove for the camp below. He could have gently set her down when they landed, but he instead elected to drop her and let her flop painfully on the ground. Starlight, after a time of forcing herself to remain silent for fear of her captor's wrath, finally let out a scream that alerted the whole camp to her presence. She might as well have been ringing the dinner bell for all the noise she was making.

Numerous shadows cast from surrounding figures eclipsed her where she lay, like hungry lions closing in around a wounded gazelle. The pirate who had kidnapped her could be heard yelling to someone, "Oi, cap'n, I brought the bitch."

"Good work, Rikishi," a female voice rang out. "Bring the bitch here, boys. I want to get a better look at this King's whore."

The King's whore? Starlight didn't know what that meant. All she knew was that she was injured, and she was surrounded... Hopelessly and utterly surrounded.

The Griffons seized her by her broken leg, by her hind legs, by her body and hair and flanks and hooves and muzzle and tail. They were all around her, innumerable talons grasping for whatever they could, digging, rending, raking and clawing her flesh. Flailing, Starlight let out a shriek, the pain in her broken leg forgotten in her terror.

A pirate hooted with amusement as her bladder released. "Look at her. Literally piss scared!"

"Tight little ass on this one," another commented, pinching her rump with his talons. "It'll make a fine roast."

Starlight kicked at him, but the effort was pointless. There were so many of them. All the grasping claws grabbing and pinching every inch of her, all the hungry, leering eyes and voices spilling out from drooling beaks expressing desires to consume her parts, it felt like a violation worse than rape. The surrounding claws pulled her this way and that, pushed her around back and forth, prodded her, dragged her, as if to herd her toward some unknown direction. When she was finally knocked off her hooves by the enthusiastic mob they pulled her up and began to carry her. That was when a sort of game of tug-of-war ensued. The macabre and horrifying comments spilled over her as she felt like she was being pulled apart from all directions.

"Dibs on the ribs!"

"Those haunches, though!"

"Damn skinny bitch. She ain't got no gristle on her."

"Her bones'll make a good broth. We should stew whatever's left of her, after the choice bits have been cleaved off."

"Her liver is mine! Anyone else touches it and they'll lose fingers."

"I hope she's knocked up. Been an Ursa's age since I had me a fetus fillet!"

"That's what I love about mares; never know what kinda prize might be inside!"

"Let me see her!" a voice demanded. It was that female voice again. It had an air of authority about it, loud and demanding, and powerful enough to cut through all the other voices around her.

"Captain!" and the mob abruptly dropped her before receding, forming a wall of feathers behind her, as if to prevent the possibility of an escape.

Starlight -- ravaged, tussled, covered in bruises and cuts, and frightened beyond anything she had ever felt in her life -- placed her one good foreleg beneath her chin and looked up to realize she had been brought before a female Griffon resting back in a lacquered chair. She sat there with one lion leg crossed over the other, shaded beneath a patchy pavilion crudely stitched together from animal hides. A talon was spread over the head of her armrest, the other was wrapped around the stem of a golden goblet. Everything about the pirate captain was gold. There were three golden studs in her beak. She wore a crimson velvet coat clasped with golden buttons. A dagger with a golden handle was sheathed at her waist. Three golden bells drooped from the ends of the prominent feathers on her head. The tips of her feathers extending from her wings were painted gold. She even had golden eyes, narrowed in a poisonous golden glare.

Starlight had to swallow before she could speak. "Who-- who are you?"

The captain took a long, steady quaff from her cup before she replied. "Captain Bloody Betha, of The Black Basilisks: Scourge of the frozen shore, and terror of the hook." She made a circular gesture with her talon and added, "If this were an animated feature, I suppose this would be the part where me an' my crew would sing you an introductory shanty of my conquests, but this ain't no musical, an' I ain't exactly in the singin' mood at the moment."

Starlight tried to push herself up, but she was still so weak. And her leg... "Why have you brought me here?"

The Griffon's beak cracked in a baleful sneer. "That's the wrong question, my love."

Her voice made Starlight shiver. There was an eerie calmness to it she liked not at all. "Then, what is?"

The pirate shotgunned what was left in her cup before tossing it aside. She lifted her leg off her knee in one languid motion and leaned forward. " 'What's going to happen to me.' I'd start there."

Confused and frightened, Starlight had no choice but to parrot the question. And that was when the captain smiled. Her smile was somehow more unsettling than her glare. "Now, that's a good question!" she said approvingly. "Very astute of you to ask."

Starlight didn't know how to respond to that. She was either being mocked, or this pirate captain was insane.

"I've had a long time to think of what should be done with you, Miss Starlight Glimmer."

Starlight remembered the way the pirate Rikishi had been searching for her by name -- before he killed poor Joji... "How is it that you all know who I am?"

The Captain shrugged. "Does it really matter? I mean, really, in the grand shit of things, does it..? No, it doesn't. The only thing that matters is this," she grasped the arms of her chair and lifted herself forward, "you're one dead bitch."

It took a moment for that to digest, as a cold sensation crept along Starlight's spine. "Wh-- What?" she whimpered. "Why? What have I ever done to you?"

The pirate fingered one of the golden studs in her beak and said, "I've been thinking of how I should go about it. Perhaps I'll shove a spit up your ass, and keep pushing it through until it comes out the other end. I wonder how deep I can get it in you before you finally croak. Although, you look like a dirty tramp, you'd probably enjoy that."

The other pirates seemed to like that idea. It made some of them laugh. One of them hooted and commented, "Fifty bits says she makes it all the way to the halfway point."

Starlight's eyes widened with growing disquiet.

"Or," the captain suggested, "I could lash you to the spit instead of skewering you with it, hang you over a fire, rotate you, slow-roast you until your eyes boil out of their sockets, and your skin crackles to a nice golden brown." The captain unsheathed the golden dagger at her waist and began to inspect it with exaggerated care, running her finger meticulously along its edge. "Or perhaps I could flay you alive and tumble you around in a barrel full of salt. That was how I dealt with the last bitch who pissed me off."

A pirate laughed as he declared, "Peeled her like a banana, she did!"

Betha smiled at her subordinate. "Remember what I did to that bitch afterwards?"

The pirate did all he could to restrain his laughter, like a drunkard in a tavern regaling the other patrons with the funniest joke he had ever heard in his life. "Bitch wouldn't stop her cryin' after Bloody Betha skinned her. Cap'n got so sick of her mewling, she threw her overboard. Oh, the way she howled when her skinless ass hit the sea!" The laughter finally overtook him. And that was when the dam broke. A gale of mirth erupted throughout the crowd. Even Betha was throwing her head back and guffawing along with her crew.

Starlight's jaw trembled. She would be outraged if she wasn't so scared. She looked down, tears filling her eyes as she said, "What's wrong with you? How can you all think that's funny?"

The pirate captain sighed as she settled back in her chair. "Because, it was. Still is. I added her to my collection, just as I'm going to add you."

Starlight blinked uncomprehendingly. "Your... Collection?"

Betha snapped her fingers. "Rozo, my collection, if you'd be so kind."

"Aye, my captain." A burly griffon wearing a tricorne emblazoned with a basilisk skull on its crown stepped forward from the group of pirates. "Would madam captain like another drink as well? We still got half a cask of that sweet red we plundered from them gits near the end of the hook a fortnight ago."

Betha looked down at Starlight. "That's a first mate for you: always willing to please."

"Uh... Sure?" was Starlight's reply.

"I'm sick of that red piss. If you're gonna bring me something, bring me some spiced rum. Two lime slices, extra sugar around the rim. And no ice this time!" She pounded the arm of her chair as she added, "Gods help you if I find ice in my rum again, Rozo!"

"Wudn't me who put ice in your rum that one time, madam captain. It was Ori."

"And I beat the shit out of him for it."

"You sure did," Rozo laughed. "He's still walkin' around all funny from that thrashin' you gave em." Then he shouted over his shoulder, "Ain't you, Ori?"

"Screw you, Rozo!" An indignant griffon in the crowd shouted.

Chuckling to himself, the first mate named Rozo cantered past Betha and began to rummage through a pile of boxes and supplies beneath the pavilion. He prepared Betha's rum first, before retrieving a large book from a fine cedar chest lined with bands of gold and crushed gemstones. It was the type of container in which one would use to store precious things.

Betha sipped from the rum in her glass, swirled the lime slices around, then sipped again.

"Is it to your liking, madam captain?" Rozo asked with an unctuous smirk.

Betha gave a curt hum of approval before waving him away.

The first mate turned on his paws and approached Starlight with that book he had retrieved from the ornate chest tucked beneath his arm. It was a large tome, its cover a solid brown with no title or illustration to identify it. The rough, tan pages were a kind of paper Starlight wasn't quite familiar with. She wasn't sure what to make of it when it was dropped in front of her. "This book..."

"My collection," Betha corrected her. "You equines, you're all so fond of those stupid tattoos on your butts, aren't you?"

Dumbfounded, Starlight could only nod. Equines indeed treasured their cutie marks. They were the very symbol of their identity. There was a time in her life when she suffered from an inferiority complex which led her to despise them. She had tried to indoctrinate others to conform to her way of thinking, and when indoctrination wouldn't work, she used manipulative tactics, and when that failed there was always brute, all-conquering force. In the end, however, like all dictators, she was naught but a hypocrite. She kept her own cutie mark, she kept her magic and all the things that made her special, while she dogmatically preached the evils of individualism and nonconformity to others. Starlight felt like a wretched little thing every time those memories boiled to the surface.

"Yes, you're all quite attached to them, aren't you?" A chill settled over the air when Betha said that, as if her words had carried a darker meaning to them. "Literally and figuratively."

Starlight looked again at the book. It was a laborious effort, but she managed to half-push herself up on her one good leg.

Betha lifted her glass. "Go ahead. You know you want to see what's inside." Her beautiful yet terrifying golden eyes never left Starlight as she took a sip, smiling.

Starlight, steeling herself for what she imagined she would find, touched the cover of the book. It had a rough feel to it. Leather, she realized with a vice in her belly.

"Go on," said the captain, her voice eerily patient.

Starlight turned the cover over, and her eyes shrunk to the size of pinpricks. Stretched over the page was a cutie mark. Not a portrait of a cutie mark, but an actual cutie mark, still attached to the skin. The color drained from her face.

The pirates howled with laughter at her reaction.

"Turn the page," Betha suggested. "Remember the bitch I told you about -- the one I peeled like a banana before tossing her off the ship? She's in there. Page four hundred and ninety six, I believe"

Starlight slammed the cover shut and pushed the grizzly token away, mortified.

"That's no way to treat a good book," Betha chided. "For shame!"

"For shame!" the pirates echoed.

"You're evil!" Starlight shrieked. "All of you! you're all monsters!"

"Evil?" Betha seemed amused by that. "I see you subscribe to those pathetic Southron ideals. There's no such thing as evil, you dumb bitch. There's only the weak and the strong; predator and prey. Terms like 'good' and 'evil' are used by vapid slags such as yourself who can't face the fact that you're weak, that you're pathetic, that you're nothing but chattel. You only exist to serve the pleasure of your betters. It's too harsh of a reality for you to face, so you dismiss it as evil."

For the first time Starlight Glimmer looked the pirate captain in the eye. "And what if someone stronger than you comes along and makes you their chattel?"

Betha smiled at that. "Dumb bitch, you still don't get it, do you? The conquered is just that -- conquered, regardless of who they are. If anybody could whip my finely-sculpted ass into submission, then they'd be welcome to do whatever they like to it. That's just the way the world works. But that ain't gonna happen, now will it? Me an' my crew are the apex. We can't be beat. Creatures better than that lover boy king of yours have tried."

"Lover? You mean Sombra?" Starlight said, every bit as perplexed as she was outraged. "Sombra is the last creature I would ever want to be with, in this world or the next!"

Betha raised an eyebrow. "I'd be more convinced, if only your breath didn't reek so prominently of his cock." She paused, a pensive look on her face as she studied her glass. "Unless that's somebody else's meat you've been working around in that sausage washer of yours. Who else have you been sucking off, you little slut?"

"I seriously don't know what you're..." A realization was beginning to don upon Starlight Glimmer. She remembered the severed pirate heads that bounty hunter had presented to The King in his throne room. Could that be what this was about? She drew the lines in her mind and connected the dots. A desire for revenge. A mistaken identity. "Wait," she said. "The King and I -- I'm not his... we're not an item, okay? I'm technically not even a citizen here."

"That so?" the pirate captain said skeptically.

Starlight Glimmer held on to the faintest ray of hope that she would come out of this alive. "It is. You have to believe me. I hold no value to you as a hostage."

Bloody Betha rested back in her chair. "My love, who said anything about you being a hostage?"

Starlight Glimmer blinked at that.

"It's like I told you, you're one dead bitch. Not just you, but that queen, that bounty hunter, and that king especially. Soon, all of you will be added to my collection." She turned toward her crew and gave a bark of laughter. "Hostage, she says! She wishes she was that lucky."

Starlight glanced at the book, its leather pages bound by the flesh of the pirate captain's countless victims. What ounce of courage she had left was leaking out of her. "I'm not... You can't. I have nothing to do with any of this!" She shouted, her eyes frantic. "I don't want any part of this stupid war!"

"War, she says!" Betha hooted derisively. "Honey, this ain't gonna be no war. This'll be a slaughter. My first wave was dispatched this morning, and I made sure to have them fly in from the South. That's where my enemies will expect the rest of us to attack from. The rest of us are coming in from the north. It's a classic flanking tactic, and on the open sea, no strategy works quite so effectively. We're gonna hit em in the rear while they're fortifying their front." She paused to examine the sky. "At high noon this will all be over. Right now, the town is dealing with only a third of my fighting force. At midday, when the rest of us come charging in from the opposite direction, my lads and I will pinch what's left of their defenses."

Betha's eyes settled over Starlight. "And that, my love, is how this fairy tale is going to end, with this king and queen pleading for their lives as they're forced to watch each other being stripped down to their bones. Every single villager who surrenders will meet the same fate. Our butcheries will be filled for months after this day is through. The only issue I'm dealing with now is how I should preserve all that meat. Good meat goes bad fast, even when salted. Best thing to do is keep them alive for as long as possible, cleaving off the bits one-by-one. You'd be surprised how long I can keep a skinned mare alive... Perhaps a demonstration is in order?"

Starlight stepped back, even as her broken leg screamed, even though she was weak, her bones arthritic, her body weak and emaciated, her muscles atrophied, she stepped back.

That seemed to make Betha smile. "Boys," she said, "bring her to the table. No need to be gentle, now."

And that was when the claws came toward her.

"No!" she tried to run, but her broken leg ended up angling painfully against the ground with a sickening crack. She tumbled forward in a howl of agony.

"No!" she screamed again, as the talons lifted her up. She kicked, screaming prayers, pleas for mercy. Anything and everything that came to her mind came out in frantic wails. "You can't! Please! I've nothing to do with any of this! I take no part! Gods, Celestia, Sombra, anyone, please help me! HELP ME!

They brought her before a wooden table that had been set up inside a large fur tent, where blades and saws and cleavers and other butchery tools had been hung. They bent her over the table's edge, where a large talon palmed the back of her head and slammed her face first into the rough wood. She tried to lift herself up, but the talon kept her firmly pinned. She thrashed, wriggled, screamed, until a blade came into focus, Betha's golden knife.

"I only wish your lover was here to see this."

The dagger disappeared from sight. The pain from the blade digging around her flank made her kick and squeal. There was a sensation then, a tear, something being ripped away from her, a pain that left her too breathless to even scream. And through a veil of tears she beheld her cutie mark, presented to her upon a canvas of freshly flayed flesh, red and dripping.

"This, my love," the pirate captain exalted, "will make a beautiful addition to my collection."

The Calm

The information digested like a heel of moldy bread. "What do you mean you couldn't find her?"

"It's just as I said, My Queen," said the sentry apologetically. "We couldn't find her. As you can see, we've brought back many survivors." He gestured at the citizenry he and his company had discovered hiding in the various vaults and chambers and solars throughout the palace, mares and frightened children most of them. Some were wounded guards, others stewards and servants. Two were bakers who worked with Nevermore in the palace kitchen. "But we didn't find your Starlight Glimmer."

"Did you look for her where I told you she'd be?" Fluttershy looked back as the throne room door was being closed. It had been opened to admit the first company of soldiers bringing back survivors. The baton had been passed down to the second company, who were now closing the door behind them. When the door shut, the throne room echoed with a hollow boom.

"She wasn't there, My Queen." The soldier shifted his weight with a grimace. His helm had a few new scrapes and dings on it since Fluttershy had last seen him. His ringmail was slashed open in various places, and his left flank had been laid open, the flap of skin dangling loosely as it wept crimson tears. Clearing the palace and rescuing the survivors couldn't have been an easy task, it was clear to see. "The chamber was in shambles," he said. "Poor Joji was found with his chest opened up. We think he was trying to protect her; the brave, stupid fool."

Joji, too... How much more could she hurt? How many more would be lost before the day was done? Fluttershy's knees were shaking. They wanted to give out from under her, but she commanded herself to be strong. "What did you mean when you said you couldn't find Starlight? Do you think she managed to escape or hide somewhere?"

"She was taken, most like."

Fluttershy blinked at him, not understanding.

"There was evidence of a scuffle. The bed sheets were all turned up, the mattress half dragged from its frame, but there was no body, and no blood. None that would have been the lady's, at least. We found some wadded up tufts of feathers that looked like they were ripped from a griffon's head. There was that, and the window was busted out. Looked like some one snatched her up and flew the coop."

Fluttershy almost felt wicked for taking some small solace in that. Taken didn't necessarily mean dead. Yet, still... "I didn't think they were taking prisoners. Why would they have taken her?"

"Me and some of the other guards were talking, and..." He hesitated, shifting his weight away from his rent leg. "These pirates, they eat equines, do they not? Maybe they took her to be butchered."

As horrifying as the prospect of that was, Fluttershy doubted it. "You said the bed was turned up. There were feathers that looked like they were ripped out. There were signs of a struggle, but no blood."

"Aye," nodded the sentry.

"If Starlight fought with her abductor, don't you think he would have just killed her? If he was taking her just because he wanted to eat her, why would it have mattered if he took her alive or dead?"

"There's that," conceded the sentry, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, I doubt these pirates are here for meat. They tend to do their hunting along the shore, and I'm not seeing any of them fly off with their kills in their claws."

Starlight, Fluttershy thought. You're alive. You have to be.

"These pirates," grimaced the sentry. "What are they up to? If they're not here to hunt or plunder, what in bloody tartarus are they here for? They're just killing anyone who isn't fast enough to get away or strong enough to fight back. Doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason to it."

Fluttershy wished she knew. She glanced longingly at her husband near the dais, his subjects gathered around him, sobbing and muttering pleas to any god who may have been listening to them, as Doctor Patches worked tirelessly to keep him alive.

Her husband, Starlight, the others... Fluttershy didn't know what she would do if she lost anyone else. Would she scream until her voice gave out? Would she tear out her hair? Would she succumb to the madness and throw herself from the palace ramparts? She stroked her pregnant belly, frightened that such a thought could even cross her mind. No, not that, she told herself. Never that. Curse me for even thinking of doing something so cowardly.

"And that's exactly our issue."

The sentry's announcement pulled The Queen from the depths of her thoughts. "What's our issue?" she said.

"When fighting a battle, information is your most important resource. A famous general once said 'know thy enemy as thyself.' Fighting an enemy you don't know is no different than fighting blindfolded. We don't know their numbers, who's commanding them, where they're from, why they're here, their objective, their strengths, their weaknesses. We know nothing. We don't even know if the pirates outside our walls make up the entirety of their invading force. They could merely be a vanguard, or they could be harassing us as a distraction. There are so many strategies in the field of open combat, and, as of yet, we don't have even one." The sentry hung his head. "Who knows. Maybe they don't have a strategy either. Maybe it will all come down to attrition."

"You seem to know a lot about battle," said Fluttershy, impressed.

The sentry smiled despite himself. "Mr. Steelsong was a good teacher."

"If battles are won by the side with the most intel..." The beginnings of an idea bloomed in Fluttershy's mind. A morally ambiguous idea, but it was an idea. Starlight, you called me a monster. Fluttershy looked around at all the uneasy eyes in the throne room, listened to the sobs of children, heard their mothers attempting to calm them with soft words of frail hope. The fear was palpable, the uncertainty looming over the throne room, thick and heavy, like a phantasm. She looked again at her dying husband. If I am all that stands between us and them, so be it. 'Monster.' I'll armor myself in the title. "Sentry!" she suddenly said.

Startled, the guard snapped into attention, taught as a bowstring. "My Lady?"

"You went above and beyond the call of duty this day. If we get out of this alive, if there is a tomorrow for us, I promise you, a reward will be in order."

"Serving you and The King is all the reward I could ask for, Your Highness."

"None the less, you and the rest of your company will be well compensated. Now, go rest and have your wounds treated. That is an order."

The sentry lowered his head. "Aye."

"I need the next highest ranking guard to step forward," Fluttershy commanded, loud, so everyone in the throne room could hear her.

A raptor with blood crusted talons and a tattered red cloak stepped forward. His beak was chipped and one of his legs was bound in bloodstained linen, but his eyes were bright and eager. Fluttershy could immediately tell that he both lived to serve and loved to fight. A griffon, thought Fluttershy, studying his finely corded frame, his handsome, angular features. And a zesty one at that.

"My Queen," said the griffon. "how may I be of service?"

He spoke with the sure, easy confidence of one who had seen many battles. Fluttershy liked that. "I need you to round up a few volunteers to comb the palace."

"The second company left when the first returned, Your Highness," the griffon informed her, though not in a defiant way. "They're looking for more survivors and mopping the halls of any pirates they find on the way."

"I know that," said Fluttershy, "but I'm not sending you on a search and destroy mission. This is wound and retrieve. I need you to bring me a live one."

"A live one?" The griffon blinked. "A pirate?"

The Queen nodded. "And don't injure him too badly while apprehending him. He'll be useless to us if he's dead or goes into shock. Can you handle that?"

The griffon smiled eagerly at that, like a boy being invited to play his favorite game. Lions enjoyed nothing half so much as hunting, and eagles had the proclivity to keep their prey alive until they've brought them back to their nests. Perhaps griffons had that in common with their cousins. "Aye," he said, "Let me round up my boys, and we'll be back before you've even realized we're gone."

Moments later Fluttershy was watching them depart. I hope that one returns safely. No female griffon in New Haven will forgive me if I've sent that one off to his death. She gave them one last salute before the door was shut, then she turned and went to go be with her husband at the foot of the dais. "Please, tell me there's good news," she pleaded to the doctor.

Patches looked up at her, his face obscured by his mask. A silent shake of his head was his only response. The King was a horror to look upon. His lips were rimmed with pink froth. His face was drawn, his flesh pale and burning. The black veins extending from the gaping wound in his chest were expanding along his torso. There were dead, blackened leaches gathered in a pile from Patches' attempt to purge the bad blood from him. The King's eyes were open, but they did not see. Every once in a while he would let out a weak, rasping moan, but those were the only sounds he made.

Fluttershy had become proficient at holding back her tears. It was a skill that came easier with time. But she was unable to force them back whenever she looked upon him in the state he was in. She cradled her husband's massive head, wiping the froth from his lips whenever it came up. Violet Viola sat on the steps of the dais, weeping silently to herself as she played her violin. No matter what she played it would always sound sad. The somberness and uncertainty that hung over the throne room was suffocating.

"Would My Queen like to make a request?" Violet Viola was smiling down at her from the steps.

Fluttershy kissed her husband on the brow. "I do, in fact."

Violet removed a silken square from her bodice and dabbed at the tears below her eyes. "What would My Queen like to hear?"

"I doubt it's a song you've heard before, but I can teach it to you, if you play along while I hum it."

"Of course, my love." Violet Viola lifted her bow. "It has been so long since I've played a new song."

"It is a lullaby my mother taught to me when I was very young." Fluttershy looked down at her king. "I hummed it to my husband once, when the terrors of his past were haunting him. It seemed to put him at ease."

"What is the song called?"

"That's the funny thing. It doesn't have a name. It was merely a composition my mother improvised one night, when it was storming outside, and I was too frightened to go to sleep."

Violet rested the butt of her violin against her shoulder and ran her bow across the strings. "Well then, what shall we name it?"

Fluttershy stroked her husband's pale face and said, "Let's call it, 'The snake, the mouse, and the mongoose.' "

Self awareness seeped slowly into Twilight's mind, and she remembered. She remembered everything. She remembered the pain, the fear, the despair, the dismay. "I'm going to finish this," she had said, before ordering Starlight to go in search for help. The King looked so vulnerable as he lay there dazed in the snow; killing him should have been the simplest thing. The concussive blast Starlight Glimmer had struck him with was so powerful it would have decapitated anyone else. Twilight remembered pulling for the magic that she would use to deliver the finishing blow, and that was when The King opened his eyes and began to rise, slowly but surely. Twilight, panicking, knew there wouldn't be enough time to charge her spell to its intended strength. It might not have been powerful enough to fell him, but she hoped that it would at least be enough to knock him back down. With desperation in her heart and a silent prayer she loosed her spell. It struck true, but it was no good. Sombra bulled through the blast like a freight train, the magic fizzling impotently upon his breast plate in a strident bloom of sparks. It wasn't until then when Twilight truly realized what she was up against. She only had enough time to scream before the black behemoth was upon her.

The chamber was dark, her vision blurry, the world around her swirling like a starless night reflected upon the surface of a murky pond.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," came the panicked voice of a mare. The voice was to the right of Twilight Sparkle. Then it was to the left of her. Then it was at her feet. Then it was near her head. There was the frantic, arrhythmic knock of hooves on a stony floor, a constant stream of muttered curses. Twilight's head felt heavy as she lifted it to look upon the mare through the gloom of the dimly lit chamber. She was running this way and that way, gathering things here and there into a tanned leather satchel. Well, what one might call 'gathering,' Twilight would have called it 'haphazardly stuffing things into a pack like a burglar realizing that the owner of the house had just come home.'

Twilight's first words came in rasps. "You... Who are you? Where am I?"

The Unicorn spared her the briefest of glances before she swept an assortment of small tools into her bag from the surface of a wooden table. "Winter Lilac - The Apothecary, and we're in the mouth of bloody tartarus. At least we might as well be."

A weak and withered voice to the right of Twilight Sparkle said, "Tartarus... Always thought... That place would.... Be a little warmer."

"Moondancer?" Twilight turned her head and saw that it was. She recognized those glowing veins from anywhere... Wait, glowing veins? She then looked down at her own body and beheld that she too featured the same spectacle of pulsing emerald lines beneath her dermace.

"Twilight," said Moondancer in a weak croak, "why are we glowing?"

"That'd be the stimulant." Winter Lilac was still running about like a chicken with her head cut off, throwing this and that into her satchel.

"Stimulant?" Came another voice somewhere farther down from Moondancer.

"Sunset Shimmer?" Twilight Sparkle called out to her.

"Good," said The Apothecary, "you're all awake."

Twilight attempted to sit up, and found to her bemusement that she could not. Her body was lead, her muscles soft as raw dough. Just lifting a foreleg was a strain. "I can't get up," she said in a way that sounded more like a question than an observation.

"The stimulant needs more time," Winter announced. "Rub your arms and legs if you can. It will get that juice in your system faster."

"Stimulant?" After failing another attempt to rise, it was all Twilight Sparkle could do to just lie back and stare at the ceiling above her as she struggled to make sense of her situation. "What's happening?" she said. "Where are we? Where's Fluttershy?"

Winter Lilac climbed a wooden step ladder and began sifting through an assortment of flasks and tubes containing unknown liquids of various colors on a high mounted shelf. Some she would place in her pack after a cursory inspection, while others were returned to their respective racks. "One question at a time." She uncorked one bottle, gave its contents a sniff, made a face, then placed it in her pack. "And make them quick. We're getting out of here as soon as you three are ambulatory."

"Three?" Echoed Moondancer. She looked around, then said, "Where's Starlight?"

All three of the bed bound mares were looking to Winter Lilac in anticipation for her reply.

Winter's answer was succinct. "She was awakened three days ago. Don't ask me where she is right now, because I don't know."

The girls exchanged looks. "Three days ago?" said Sunset Shimmer.

Winter looked over her shoulder to cast a frown down upon her from atop the step ladder. "Okay, new rule: no parroting my answers back at me. That's going to get irritating really fast."

"Just how long have we been here?" Twilight broke in.

"You've all been sedentary for about six moons and some change," said the mare while studying a flask of clear fluid.

"Six moons!" The exclamation came out in a synchronized trio before the collective of voices became a chaotic cacophony of whats, whens, wheres, whys, and hows.

"Silence!" the mare shouted over them. "Yes, six moons, you heard that correctly. Your muscles have atrophied over the long period of disuse. You see that green fluid coursing through your veins? That's the stimulant I injected you with. It will allow you to get around on your own until your bodies are strong again. Speaking of which, can you hurry up and metabolize that shit already? I need you on your feet and ready to fight as soon as possible."

Twilight Sparkle blinked at her. "Fight? Fight who?"

"It's Sombra, isn't it?" Moondancer let out a weak, humorless chuckle, devoid of joy, devoid of hope, sardonic as a nihilist. "Was breaking my ribs one time not enough for him?"

The statement made Twilight's stomach fall. She didn't want to fight Sombra again. Her party wasn't able to defeat him when they were in their prime. What could any of them hope to accomplish by fighting him in the state they were in now?

"Not Sombra, stupid." The mare jumped down from the ladder with a thud. "I don't know much about what's going on outside this chamber, but here it is: We're under siege, and if we don't move we're all dead." She drew the flap of her satchel closed, clenched its strap in between her teeth, then cinched it tight with a whisper of leather on canvas.

"Wait, back up," Moondancer said. "What do you mean 'we're under siege?' Who's 'we?' Where even are we?"

The mare sighed impatiently. "You're beneath Sombra's palace, you moron, and it's as I said: We're under siege. One of Sombra's sentries brought me the news about thirty minutes ago. He was vague, said something about a 'situation' going on up top - told me that I needed to lock the door and stay put." She scoffed. "Balls to that; I'm getting out of here."

"Since when does Sombra have a palace?" Sunset Shimmer came in.

"And he has sentries, too?" came Twilight. "Who would want to protect a monster like Sombra?"

"I doubt they actually want to," replied Sunset Shimmer. "Conscription and slavery is Sombra's MO, remember?"

A sudden quake put an abrupt end to the chatter. The chamber shook violently with the thunderous sound of a distant explosion. Winter Lilac lost her footing in the tremor and took a tumble. The shaking, however, ceased as sudden as it started, and the mare was able to get back to her feet. She looked around with a pensive expression, as if she was attempting to discern the direction from which the blast had occurred. "That's the third one today."

"What was that?" Stammered Sunset.

"Cannons," Winter replied, dusting herself off. "Or bombs, most like. I thought I'd be safe if I took the sentry's advice; hold out here, in my underground chamber, surrounded by stone walls, hunkered behind a sturdy door reinforced with thick bolts and a heavy oaken drop bar, but if they're using black powder weapons, all bets are off. That's why I'm headed to the throne room."

"You're taking us to Sombra's throne room?" said Twilight, uneasily.

"No." Winter Lilac pointed at her, and said in a tone that brooked no argument, "You're taking me there. You nearly fought Sombra to a stalemate; power like that could ensure my survival."

A sudden revelation popped up in Twilight Sparkle's head. Curiously it wasn't the first thing she realized upon waking to find that she was alive. "We attacked Sombra, but we're not dead. Was he, somehow, unable to kill us?" Twilight began to think that Celestia may have had something to do with that, but Winter Lilac's response tossed that theory to the wind.

"Unable to kill you?" she scoffed. "More like he decided not to kill you. In fact, It was Sombra who concocted the potion that's kept you all in a regenerative coma, so your bodies could heal after the trouncing he gave you, and it was I who administered the nourishing salves and potions to you that kept you all alive whilst you slept. You can thank Sombra next time you see him, but you can thank me right now. In fact, you can thank me by helping me get to the throne room. I couldn't care less what you do after that: Stay, leave, try and have another go at Sombra, whatever."

"You want us to be your bodyguards," Twilight concluded.

Sunset Shimmer was frowning. "You work for Sombra, don't you? Why would we risk our lives for one of his creatures?"

"Sorry," refused Moondancer, "that's not our vocation."

"You know what, you're absolutely right," Winter said mockingly. "You're not guards, you're assassins; you don't protect - you kill. All you need to do, though — and please, stay with me here — is think of protecting as the opposite of killing. Only, don't fail your mission, like you did with Sombra."

Twilight Sparkle glared at her, resenting the accusation, mostly because it was true.

"Besides," Winter added, with a malicious smile a chess player might wear while shifting their knight to checkmate, "you do want to see your dear friend Fluttershy, don't you?"

The Reunion

Author's Note

I've become extremely self conscious about the way I describe the environment and weaponry in this story, as I've been made aware that a scholar of medieval history has just started reading it. Don't know why, but now I'm scared...

The Reunion

The glow of the crackling torches guided them when they walked the labyrinthine cellars of Sombra's palace. It was a dim, dreary place, compact and suffocating with the acrid stench of smoke and mold. Twilight Sparkle, despite her predicament, could think of nothing else but getting to the ground level, where the sunlight could once again warm her face, where she could drink in the cool, brisk northern air. When they ascended the steps and reached the ground level, however, she found the sub-levels to be a paradise in comparison. The broken windows and smoldering gaps that had been blown into the walls gave them a perfect view to the carnage outside: The burning structures, the pillars of smoke extending to the sky, the griffons and pegusi falling to the earth, their bodies perforated by shafts and ravaged by steel volleys of shrapnel. The warm blood of terrified noncombatants sprayed the snowy roads as they were being cut down left and right whilst they fled. Figures clad in cloaks of crimson and indigo clashed with griffons armed with cutlasses, spears and bombs. "Sombra has brought war to the Northern realm, just as we all knew he would," Twilight said bleakly. "This is all happening because we failed to stop him."

The apothecary kept her eyes forward. "And what do you suppose things would be like if you had succeeded in your little assassination attempt? I'm curious."

Twilight absolutely loathed, loathed, loathed being called an assassin. The term was an obscene embellishment, a disparagement which served only to omit the context surrounding her actions. One might as well be named a burglar for forgetting to turn in a library book. "Well," she replied, "for starters, none of this would be happening!" She gestured to the tempest of violence roaring beyond the palace walls.

"You're right," Winter Lilac allowed. "Don't forget about the part where mares and children would still be passed around like currency, and there'd definitely be a lot less food to go around. Worst of all, I'd be out of a job."

"How can you be so flippant about such things?"

"Who's being flippant?" replied Winter. "Just the thought of having to stand in line at the unemployment office with the rest of those scumbags."

Twilight was about to deliver a reproach, when Sunset Shimmer nudged her. "Yeah, what?" she said with an unintended harshness in her tone, Winter Lilac's irreverent comportment ebbing away at her patience.

Sunset paid no mind to the flair. "Put your ears on," she instructed, vague. "You too, Moondancer. I hear something."

Ears? Twilight might have said, but then she understood. Focusing, she channeled the magic into her body to enhance her senses. For that moment everything around her sounded as if she was submerged under water. She could see sounds, hear smells, and taste sites as all her senses intermingled into a radically efficient super radar. Everything that disturbed the environment around her carried an echo like the ripples of a pond's surface. Sunset pointed far down the hall in indication to where she would need to direct her focus - and Twilight did - and this is what she heard:

Someone was sobbing softly. A girl. Young, from the sound of her voice, just barely in her teens.

"Betha'll have our balls bronzed if she learns we been rapin' while there's still fightin' to be done," one voice said. It was deep, heavily accented, brutish and cockney.

"That's why she ain't gonna be findin' out, now is she?" said another, in a high, celtic brogue. "You only live once, boyo. Gotta enjoy the fruit while it's ripe."

"Well said, mate, well said," another thundered with approval. "Now, get outta my way, I'm goin' first."

"Why do you get to go first?"

"Someone's gotta teach you lot o' hatchlings how it's done."

The girl's sobs became heart rending screams - the kind of screams that rendered anguish and horror indistinguishable from one another. Intermingled with the sounds of her distress was the fiend's vulgar laughter.

Twilight had heard enough. "Scoundrels!"

"I heard it too," said Moondancer. "What are we waiting for?"

Sunset already had a head start on them. "I don't know," she shouted back at them, "what are you waiting for?"

"You idiots, don't just leave me behind!" Winter Lilac yelled after them.

With their magic enhancing their physical abilities to super equine levels, the three rushed forward at a speed that turned the passing wall sconces into bronzed blurs. They were at the scene of the atrocity within seconds, ripping through the hall like a trio of shooting stars. Twilight gave the oaken barrier in front of them a blast of magic to weaken it, then Sunset Shimmer threw her shoulder in front of her and crashed into it like a bronze battering ram. CRUNCH The top half of the door was sent flying whilst the bottom half swung open, warped, and just barely hanging on by its hinge.

The windowless chamber was lit by a chandelier hanging from a high ceiling. The first griffon they noticed, a burly brute with a black headscarf knotted at the side of his head, released the female griffon he was coupling with. She immediately took advantage of the confusion and scurried out from under him. She fled to the far end of the chamber, as far away as she could get from her assailant, where she pressed her back up against the wall and sank to the floor with her arms tightly crossed over her chest, shaking and crying and watching with hopeful, tear-stricken eyes.

Once the lull of surprise ran its course, the event unfurled in an instant. There were four of them in all. One griffon was beginning to stand up, the other two made for their swords. The raper with the headscarf reached for a studded club lying near him.

Twilight, Sunset, and Moondancer announced claims to their targets before they divided and conquered.

Twilight blasted the cudgel into cinders just as the raper was wrapping his claws around its handle. The pirate then went for his knife sheathed at his ankle, when a magical shackle suddenly formed around his wrist. Black and purple, hissing and crackling, the griffon studied it, perplexed. His other wrist was ensnared, then a collar formed around his neck. Twilight manipulated her manacles to drag him over to the corner of the chamber as he thrashed wildly against his binds, while letting fly with one of the nastiest, albeit creative, expletive-strewn protests The Princess had ever heard. The pirate was making rude comments directed toward Twilight Sparkle's grandmother's Hearths Warming Eve dinner as she conjured unbreakable magic chains to tether him firmly to the wall. "Serves you right, you filth!" Twilight snarled at him with all the disgust and contempt she could muster. "That's one."

The two griffons rushed Sunset Shimmer with cutlasses raised. Calmly, she studied the iron chandelier overhead, then struck it with a powerful negative charge of electric magic. Her attackers thought that funny, as if they had assumed the projectile was meant for them, and simply missed. That made Sunset Shimmer smile, not knowing if she should mock them for their lack of foresight, or if she should lead them along and play the damsel in distress. However, sadly, she simply wasn't allowed the time for such an amusing game. Her attackers were rather intent in their decision to make a hasty end to her, and that was precisely what they presumed to do. As her foes were advancing, she ringed the area around herself with a circle of positively charged electric magic. The chandelier overhead began to pull toward her, its chain creaking in protest to the powerful force. Predictably, the pirates breached the parameter of her magic field, activating her trap. The magnetic steel of their weapons absorbed the charge. Their blades were wrenched from their grasp and sent clinging to the chandelier high above with a strident report. The pirates could only gawk upward in awe and wonderment at how and why the metallic fixture above commandeered their weapons. Sunset, deciding to strike while they were dismayed, turned her back to them, and the kick she delivered to them with a magically augmented surge of strength was like a blast from a cannon. The pirates were sent reeling into the wall across the chamber. One lay motionless, as the other struggled to rise ... but his will diminished, and he sagged back with a groan of agony. "Three," came Sunset's confirmation.

The manner in which Moondancer dispatched her foe was far crueler than Twilight's, and much less elaborate than Sunset Shimmer's, but, for what her tactics may have lacked in creativity, they more than made up for in brutal efficiency. The fight had ended just as it begun, with the griffon encased in an aura of telekinetic magic. The dagger was still raised in his talon. The pirate's threats and vows of retribution became screams when Moondancer contorted his knees to an unnatural angle. His screams turned to desperate pleas for mercy as she did the same to his elbows, his wrists, and finally his fingers, for good measure. Once Moondancer had manipulated and snapped enough joints to eliminate even the slightest possibility of him being a threat, she released him, and the griffon flopped boneless to the floor, weeping. "Baby makes four."

Twilight Sparkle would have chided her for such brutal methods, but when she directed her gaze to the crying girl hugging herself on the floor, with her innumerable contusions, her bloodied beak, her swollen eye, anything she would have felt resembling even the slightest ounce of sympathy for the bastard evaporated. The Princess approached the girl, ignoring the incoherent blubbering of the pirate Moondancer had just twisted up like a pretzel. She placed a hoof on her shoulder to calm her. "Hey, are you okay?" she said sweetly. The girl looked up at her. Her eyes were so beautiful, a hypnotically deep scarlet, like shimmering pools of liquid ruby. "My name is Twilight Sparkle."

The girl wiped those gorgeous scarlet eyes of hers with the back of a talon. "Nocturna," she sniffled.

"That's a pretty name," Twilight trilled. It was a fitting one at that. Nocturna's avian features were more akin to a raven than an eagle, her feline side more panther than lion. Her black feathers were accented with purple tips, and had a sheen like moonlight glinting off of polished coal. Her bottom half was the type of dark blue that could pass for black in a dim light. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen," the girl stammered.

She was responding to the questions quickly enough. For as much as the girl had suffered, her faculties seemed to be in order. "Do you have any family near bye, somewhere safe we can take you?"

"Me, my ma and my da were running to the throne room when the attack started, but we got separated on the way. That was when I was captured, and they... They were going to just kill me at first, but the one with the scarf on his head had other ideas. That's when they carried me off to this place, and..." Shuddering, the girl hugged herself so tightly one might think she was trying to keep herself from falling apart.

Twilight Sparkle took her in her arms. "Your parents must be worried sick. We're on our way to the throne room ourselves. We'll take you with us."

With a sob and a sniffle, Nocturna nodded a wordless thank you into her bosom.

"She's just upset 'cuz you interrupted our fun is all," laughed the pirate The Princess had left shackled to the wall on the other side of the chamber. "Mares. Prudish bunch'a bitches, the lot 'o ya - and probly dry as a desert between the legs, besides. Stallions, I feel bad for em."

"You be silent!" Twilight demanded. "I'll make those binds tighter, see if I don't."

"What, these pretty bracelets you was kind enough t' give me?" mocked the pirate as he rattled the phantom chains tethering him to the wall. "Good, they was startin' to feel a bit loose, anyway."

Twilight's eyes narrowed. "Or, I could just let her borrow you for a while." She indicated Moondancer with a nod.

The manacled pirate studied his broken, twisted comrade as he lay weeping on the ground, then his eyes went to Moondancer. She was cleaning the lenses of her glasses, humming to herself with an impish little smile on her face. Suddenly the pirate seemed to forget how to make words come out of his mouth, though he still remembered how to sneer.

"You morons!" Winter Lilac's voice served as a reminder that she existed. She shoved passed Sunset Shimmer and Moondancer when she came blustering into the chamber. "I could have been killed if any passing enemy had discovered me alone in that hallway!"

"There was a situation." Twilight gestured to the girl she had just saved.

Winter studied the griffon's wounds, and was almost placated. With a sigh, she went to her side, set her satchel down, and got to work. "You still shouldn't have left me behind without saying anything." She soaked a tiny patch of cotton with a clear fluid. The girl started wincing when she used it to dab at her bruises and abrasions.

"It was an emergency," Twilight insisted. "Besides, look at you, you're fine."

"Fine," Winter snorted derisively. "Are you familiar with the first three rules of Ogres and Oubliettes?"

Twilight's nose wrinkled. "No," she said, anticipating that a rant was coming.

"Well, then, shall I illuminate you?" offered Winter Lilac. "First rule is: Keep the healer alive. Second rule: Keep the healer alive. Third rule, and pay attention, because this is the most important one: Keep the Celestia-damned healer alive! Now, I know what you're thinking: 'But, Winter, you sexy bitch, my intellectual range falls slightly below that of pig shit, I'm an idiot, a troglodyte, such understanding is far beyond my lexicon; I don't think I'm capable of such an insurmountably complicated task.' Well, here's some advice, if you want to keep the healer alive, don't freaking ditch her!"

Nocturna cringed back.

"Lower your voice!" Twilight demanded. "The girl's suffered enough without you shouting in her ear."

Winter didn't respond to that. Instead, she studied the girl's talon. It looked swollen at the wrist. "Flex your fingers for me."

The girl did.

"Try raising your talon... No, not your arm, just your talon."

The girl did as she was instructed, but with some effort, and it was obvious from the face she was making that it was causing some discomfort.

"Sprained," Winter confirmed. "Give it here, I'm going to wrap it."

Nocturna's voice was a quavering whisper. "It happened in my haste to get away from him." The girl wouldn't raise her eyes to him, but everyone in the room knew who she was talking about.

Winter Lilac spared the manacled pirate a glance when she finished wrapping the griffon's wrist.

"What you lookin' at, bitch?" His sneer became a smirk. "What's the matter - jealous?" He laughed that nasty, vulgar guffaw of his. Nocturna firmly pressed her talons over her ears, trying not to hear it, trying not to remember.

Winter's expression was inscrutable through that milk white film over her dull, expressionless eyes. "Kill that one. Or, better yet." She looked down at Nocturna. "Let her do it. It won't remove her scars, but it will fade them somewhat."

"No!" Princess Twilight punctuated her response with a stamp of her hoof to illustrate the firmness of her stance on the matter.

"Oh, so, now you're above killing?"

"I'm not a killer."

"No, you're right. You're an assassin. Huge difference."

Winter Lilac might as well have lit a fuse. "Stop calling me that!"

"You carried out an organized attempt on someone's life. I'm not making any judgments here, I'm just saying, there's a word for someone who does that. I wonder, what were they called again?"

"That was different!"

"How?"

"Sombra is evil!"

"As opposed to the choir boy over there?" Winter jabbed a hoof in the direction of the pirate Twilight had anchored to the wall. "What makes him so special that he gets to live?"

"He's been eliminated as a threat. Killing him won't undo any of the horrible things he's done. What you're asking me to do is indulge in killing for nothing more than gratification, and that's a line I will never cross. Never!"

"And what happens when he slips out of those fancy magical irons and escapes? He'll rape again. He'll kill again."

"He won't slip them," Twilight assured. "When this situation is all over and done with, I'll see to it that he's..." The Princess's words caught in her throat. What should she do? What could she do?

"You'll see to it that he's what? Taken into custody? Given a trial? You refuse to kill him, but that's exactly what you'd be doing if you turned him over to Sombra. The King and Queen would probably have his head. The one between his legs for the rape. Then the one between his shoulders for being a pirate."

"That's utterly barbaric!" Twilight spat. "Fluttershy would never approve of something like that!"

"So you say," Winter replied, with an insufferable sureness to her tone. "If that's truly what you think, you may find to your woe that the queen who sits upon the throne is not the mare you once knew." The apothecary helped Nocturna up to her feet as she let Twilight Sparkle ponder on that.

The scenery in the palace was grim and growing grimmer with every hallway and chamber they left behind. Pieces of mortar from blown out walls dominated the floors in some of them, while others were host to more macabre sights, cadavers strewn about like confetti, pirates and guards alike, their visages forever frozen in grimaces of agony. Nocturna formed the habit of closing her eyes upon entering a new area, awaiting Twilight's report on whether or not it was safe to open them. If any sight was deemed too grisly for the poor girl to witness, The Princess would guide her through the obstacle course of bodies and rubble by her talon. There didn't seem to be anymore pirates to fight along the way, no innocence to whom they could offer assistance, just viscera, mortar, turned over furniture, and other signs of all the scuffles and skirmishes that had occurred.

"We're near the foyer," Winter Lilac announced, almost cheerful. "From there it will be a clear shot to the throne room."

"What are you going to do once we're there?" asked Twilight, as she was helping Nocturna through an improvised shortcut that had been blasted into one of the walls.

"My job," replied Winter, "Judging from what I've seen so far, there's likely to be a lot of wounded. I'll be more useful there than I would be rotting in my laboratory."

"You're sure Fluttershy will be there?" Twilight Sparkle asked anxiously.

"Most likely. The throne room is the designated area for both The King and Queen during emergencies. Its walls are heavily fortified. The door is sturdy enough to withstand cannon fire. Even the windows are unbreakable."

"That's good," Twilight said, hoping. "So long as she's safe."

The archway bestriding the opening to the next area they would need to access was located under a section of ceiling that had been collapsed by a bomb blast. Broken but sturdy-looking wooden beams and a barrier of debris flecked with large pieces of heavy masonry acted like a barricade against any who would attempt to gain entry. Winter Lilac took one look at it and cursed. "Well, what do we do now? We're not going to have to backtrack to that shortcut we took and take the long way around, are we?"

"Not necessarily," said Twilight Sparkle, stepping forward. "You girls ready to get your hooves dirty?"

"By 'hooves' I hope you mean horns. It'd take all day to manually move all that crap out of the way," said Moondancer.

Sunset Shimmer smirked. "Yes, but, 'Let's get our horns dirty' carries some bizarre connotations, does it not?"

Despite their dire situation, the comment prompted a snort from Twilight.

Winter Lilac rolled her eyes. "Would you three just shut up and get to work already?"

The task was a middling effort. Twilight and Moondancer used their telekinesis to clear the obstruction, ripping out the heavy beams, plucking out the large chunks of stone, then finally parting aside the mound of charred rubbish that once was the ceiling and second tier floor. Sunset Shimmer conjured and maintained a support barrier, to keep the rest of the ceiling from caving while the beams and debris were being shifted out from under it. It required some focus on her part, but she'd be able to release it once they've moved on. If they were an ordinary blue collar cleaning crew it would have taken hours, but with their magic the task was done in mere minutes.

With the obstacle no longer impeding their path, they could see that the archway opened up to what could have been a library, or perhaps some sort of study. It was a long room, a good eighty or so meters, with a high ceiling. Desks and chairs had been pushed around in a disorderly fashion. Dozens of trampled books lay scattered on the floor from turned over bookcases here and there, and scraps of virgin parchment littered the floor. The path to the next door was a straight one, lined with a long carpet that spanned the length of the chamber. It was dark, the only source of light a few candles. There were no windows, as the long room was located within the inner recesses of the palace. The walls on either side and the ceiling high above were shrouded in the gloom, like something out of a horror movie. Twilight nominated herself to be the first one to step across the threshold of the high arch and look around... It looked safe enough.

Sunset Shimmer was finally able to release the barrier that held the collapsed ceiling in place once they were all in the next chamber. With a sigh of relief she released the magic, and immediately the rest of the ceiling collapsed behind them. The entryway to the long room was once again blocked by a new pile of debris, only, Twilight and her party were on the other side of it. There was no going back from this point.

Winter Lilac kept her head on a swivel as they advanced at a methodical pace. "So," she said, seemingly to anyone who would be willing to reply, "are you guys going to keep trying to bring The Queen back home with you, or what?"

It was a question The Princess had been asking herself since she had awoken, yet she wasn't quite sure how to answer it. Would she have to go through Sombra to get to Fluttershy? She already tried that once, and she failed horribly at it. Could Sombra somehow be reasoned with to just let her go? The Princess doubted it. "I don't know," she admitted. "I just need to see her. That's all I want." For now.

Sunset Shimmer, eager to join in on the conversation, fell in between them. "Tell it true," said she, "Sombra hasn't been keeping Fluttershy locked away, has he? He hasn't hurt her in any way?"

They were questions that seemed to be on everyone's mind. Winter Lilac's cold expressionless eyes were unreadable as always when she said, "Remember back in the lab when I said one question at a time? That rule still applies."

Moondancer stepped in to simplify things. "Is Sombra holding Fluttershy prisoner?"

The silence between Moondancer's question and the apothecary's answer left everyone on tenterhooks.

"Prisoner?" Winter spoke the word as if it left a foreign taste on her tongue. "If prisoners where you're from are treated the same way your precious Fluttershy is, I'm booking a trip to the south and starting my crime spree tomorrow."

"Care to elaborate?" requested Moondancer. If she hadn't said it, Twilight Sparkle would have.

"She eats only the richest foods and drinks the finest wines. She has an army of servants at her twenty four hour beckon call. Sombra dotes over her, lavishes expensive gifts upon her. I've even heard tell that Sombra plans on presenting her with her own menagerie of exotic animals from all over the world for her birthday. Their expressions of public affection are nothing less than sickening to watch, and on cold northern nights, when the howling winds outside are supposed to dominate all other sounds, I swear I can hear him making her squeal all the way from my underground laboratory. Those assholes need to invest in some sound dampening equipment for that bedchamber of theirs."

Moondancer cocked an eyebrow. "The bit about the squealing seemed a bit superfluous."

Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle were trading incredulous looks with each other when a sound from above jolted them to attention. They threw their heads back like two howling wolves, and saw nothing but the faintest hint of rafters concealed within the shadows of the high vaulted ceiling. There were no windows here, no chandelier, no torches, just a few candles flickering here and there. Twilight Sparkle could have kicked herself for not realizing it earlier, this was the perfect spot for an ambush. "Stay close," she whispered to Nocturna. As if she had to, the frightened girl was already close enough to rub sides with her.

"Why are we stopping?" Winter Lilac demanded, annoyed. "We're almost—"

Twilight sharply shushed her, then indicated the rafters high above. "Whoever's skulking around up there," The Princess said into the shadows, "we mean you no harm."

Winter Lilac scowled. "Unless you're one of those shithead pirates," she added unhelpfully, "then you can prepare your pelvic orifice for the prolapsing of a lifetime."

Twilight shot the apothecary such a nasty look, but Winter could not have looked less apologetic.

There was whispering, which indicated that there had to be at least two of them. Then, "And how do we know you ain't pirates, sha?" said a voice laced with a conspicuously prominent Cajun accent.

Winter Lilac tilted her head to the side. "Shantae?"

Twilight shushed her again. In response to the voice's query Twilight said, "Well, first of all, we're girls."

"There do exist female pirates, monami," the darkness put to her. "Heck, their queen, or cap'n, or whatever she likes to call herself, just happens to be one."

"We're mares, dumbass!" The apothecary finally shouted. "Shantae, quit screwing around and get down here."

There was a bout of silence. Then, "Miss Winter Lilac, da love of my life, do Shantae's ears trick him?"

"So, you do say that to every mare you see!" said another voice from the twilight. Female. Young. Younger than Nocturna.

"Don't be jealous, sha. You is da belle fleur of Shantae's life, and you always will be."

"Gee, what an honor."

"Ethey?" said Winter Lilac, perplexed. "Ethereal Moon, is that you? Why aren't you in the throne room?"

"It's a long story," said the voice belonging to the one named Ethey. "Just a sec."

Twilight Sparkle, Nocturna, Moondancer, and Sunset Shimmer all jumped with a start when a bronze earth pony emerged from the lofty shadows with a boisterous "Aiyeeeee!" Grinning, he landed before them with all the languid grace of a seasoned acrobat, then looked up. "Okay, sha, you is next."

Twilight Sparkle studied the curved blade sheathed at the stallion's flank, the whip loosely coiled about his neck, his various scars crisscrossing up and down his body like striped leather stretched over lean sinew. A bandoleer of pouches hung loosely across his chest, and a crossbow was slung at his back ... and his cutie mark. A bullseye?

"You better catch me, Shantae!" threatened the voice above.

"Trust Shantae, sha!"

"I trust you about as far as I can throw you."

Shantae snickered at that. "You should trust Shantae as far as he can throw you." He spread his forelegs out in a beckoning manner. "Now, come to Shantae. His embrace calls to you."

"Just shut up and catch me, you ass." And with that, a tiny white unicorn came plummeting from the black. She curled into a ball and let out a sound that was half a squeak and half a grunt when the earth pony caught her.

"Admit it," Shantae purred, cradling her, "you just like bein' in Shantae's arms."

The filly pushed his face away before wriggling out of his arms.

"Have you two been hiding here the whole time?" Asked Winter.

Ethereal Moon pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "I was out on official business when the attack started. Shantae scooped me up off the streets and brought me to the palace. There was too much fighting near the front doors for us to sneak by unnoticed, but a section of the East Wing had been blasted open, so we gained access through there. When we got here, Shantae thought we'd be safe if we obstructed one of the entrances and set up a defensive position."

"That was you who blew up the ceiling?" Winter's eyes went wide. "Sombra's going to be pissed."

A vulpine grin spread across Shantae's face as he sang, "Not when da adviser spins him da tale of Shantae's dashing rescue~"

Winter rolled her eyes. "So, you assisted the adviser in hopes of a reward. Typical."

"What's all this about a defensive position?" Twilight queried, curious that the pair hadn't made a straight shot to the sanctuary of the throne room.

Shantae's grin bordered the line between roguishness and deviance. "Shantae demolished da hallway through dat arch y'all came through, to limit intruders to only one point of entry." He drew his blade with a leathery rasp and used it to direct Twilight Sparkle's gaze to the far wall. "Look over yonder, sha. Like a spider, all Shantae had to do was wait for dem pirates to wander into his web. One entrance. No escape." He punctuated the end of his explanation by pantomiming slitting his own throat with his kukri.

Twilight was squinting where Shantae's blade had been pointing, but the darkness made it difficult to see what it was she was supposed to be looking at. She produced a ball of light with her horn, and then she saw it. A pile of griffon corpses had been hidden in the dark. Most of them had black oaken shafts protruding from vital areas. The ones that hadn't been shot either had their throats opened or exhibited fatal wounds that looked as if they were inflicted from behind or above. The expressions on their dead faces varied from wide-eyed surprise to relaxed and searching, as if none of them had even seen their deaths coming. A tendril of ice crept down Twilight Sparkle's spine.

"Thirty two," Shantae said accommodatingly. "If you tryin' ta' count em."

"Twenty six," Ethey corrected him. "He likes to embellish."

"Embellish?" Twilight frowned, sickened by the stallion's boasting. "You're reveling over your bloodletting like it's something to be proud of."

Shantae was unabashed. "Indeed, Shantae is proud of his work, for he knows that every monster made dead makes the world a better place. Shantae is a warrior of justice, a lover of peace, and a maker of love. Dat last part especially."

"Bedding prostitutes—making love." Ethey lifted a hoof and turned it from side-to-side, as if to weigh their nuances. "Same thing, apparently."

"To a guy, yeah, it kinda is," supplied Moondancer with a congenial shrug.

Twilight ignored them. "Warrior of justice? You snipe and ambush unsuspecting foes from the shadows. You're not a warrior, nor are you an agent of justice. If anything, you're an assass—" she stopped herself just dead of the word. She avoided eye contact with Winter Lilac, but she could feel that sardonic smirk of hers undressing her.

"Ambushing unsuspecting foes from the shadows?" She looked amused. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Little-Miss-Lawful-Good?"

Twilight Sparkle pretended she didn't hear the sally. "Can we just keep going?" she suggested, hoping to change the subject. "We've tarried here long enough."

"Shantae thinks we should stay," suggested Shantae. "It is gloomy here, non? De better to remain unseen. Be not afraid, for Shantae shall keep you lovely ladies safe from de things dat prowl in de darkness."

Sunset Shimmer eyed the mound of pirate cadavers. "Isn't that you, though?"

Ethey gave the bounty hunter a suspicious look. "You're just trying to collect more bounties, aren't you? Isn't the big fat reward you'll probably receive from The King for helping me reward enough?"

"You wound me, mon cher," Shantae said, his greedy smirk saying otherwise. "Shantae only wishes to keep you all safe. Shantae is chivalrous as da night is long."

Winter Lilac sighed, which indicated Shantae was getting on her nerves. "Shantae's right, we should stay here, with him," she said. "Screw the heavily fortified surroundings of the throne room; we blushing maidens have this big strapping stud in shining scar tissue to protect us. Let's just lay low here until everything blows over. We can all pass the time by having sex with him - you know, to express our gratitude?"

Shantae hid his enthusiasm behind a dutiful mask of seriousness. "Dis is a good plan."

"He's deaf to sarcasm," informed Ethey.

"I gathered," replied Winter, rubbing her temples.

Twilight espied the double doors at the end of the long study. "Nocturna. Are you ready to go?"

The girl nodded eagerly. It had appeared that the pile of dead griffons had been putting her off as well.

Twilight smiled at her. "Alright, let's head out, then. I'm sure your parents will be overjoyed to see you." She turned back to the others. "Miss Ethey, it was a pleasure, and Shantae, meeting you was a..."

Shantae smiled expectantly.

"Experience," Twilight said, when no other word would come to surface, "but, we should really get going."

"Wait, you're going to throne room, right?" said Ethereal Moon. "Can I come with you? I know I'm small, but I promise I won't slow you down.

"It could be dangerous out there." Twilight weighed the odds. "But, then again, it's not exactly safe in here either, is it?" She resisted the urge to look back at the corpses. "Are your mommy and daddy waiting for you in the throne room?"

Ethereal Moon's cheeks assumed the properties of an incandescent pufferfish. "My 'mommy' and 'daddy' live in Equestria. I'm an adult, dammit, I'm probably older than you are!"

Twilight cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her. "Little girl, this isn't the time for games."

"She's telling the truth," Winter came in. "She's probably the oldest one in this room."

"Thirty six," coughed Shantae.

"Second oldest one in this room," Winter corrected herself.

Twilight looked at Ethereal Moon as if she was seeing her for the first time. "How old are you, exactly?" she had to know.

"Old enough to know where babies come from, now can we get out of here? I'm Sombra's adviser, I need to be with him."

"Adviser?" Twilight said, shocked. "You?"

Ethereal Moon's face did the pufferfish thing again. "I know it seems a tad queer that one such as I would not be consigned or content to spending my life being strutted about before a gaping audience at some grotesquery, but yes, believe it or not, I'm the royal adviser. Now, can you stop being so flabbergasted by everything I say!"

"Oh, oh, now tell her the world is round," Winter suggested. "Or that our planet revolves around the sun."

"No, thanks." The lenses of Ethey's glasses glinted when she slid them up the bridge of her muzzle. "I'm just trying to enlighten her, not get burned at the stake."

Moondancer snorted in her attempt to stifle a giggle. Twilight Sparkle loured at her. "You're not helping." She then turned to her pint-sized attacker. "Look, I'm sorry if I came off as patronizing, okay?" she said, not wanting to fight. "Did you wanna come with us, or not?"

The impudent, haughty look the adviser was giving her started to soften into something resembling remorse. "Y-yeah," she stammered. "Sorry if I got short with you."

Whether or not the pun was intended, it made Winter laugh.

"My mouth moves faster than my brain when I'm nervous," said Ethey. "I'm sure Winter's sorry too."

"I'm not."

"Well," said Twilight, "if you're ready, let's go. We may not all share the same priorities, but we have the same destination." Nocturna stayed as close as ever to The Princess, while Sunset Shimmer and Moondancer fell in beside her. Ethereal Moon and Winter Lilac trailed close behind them.

Shantae, a stallion of outrageously theatrical idiosyncrasies, saw them off with a wide sweeping bow. "Au revoir, mademoiselles! Shantae shall remain here, for he has much work to do."

Wetwork. Twilight kept the comment to herself, as she and her party strode toward the door at the end of the long study. "Be safe, Shantae," she called back to him.

"You too, sha," sang Shantae. "And, do take extra special care of Shantae's petite fleur, won't you? She is precious cargo."

"Shantae..." Ethereal Moon slowed to a stop. She stood there, hesitating, the tips of her ears turning the slightest shade of pink. Twilight, as well as everyone else, couldn't help but be curious as to what she was going to say to him. "I know you only helped me for your own personal gain, but I would still like to..." He was gone when the adviser turned back to look at him, a deadly phantom melted into the gloom. When Ethereal Moon whirled back around, Twilight saw that her cheeks were red and puffed out in that peculiar way they would get when she was agitated. "Typical stallion, can't handle the slightest bit of sincerity!"

With Winter Lilac as their guide, they made their way through a series of adjoining corridors. Unlike the cellars beneath the palace, with their blazing torches and acrid smoke, these halls were lit by scented oil lamps hanging from silver hooks ensconced along the walls. The sweet smell of ceder and spices they emitted was a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat and choking haze of the sub-levels.

The door to the first floor lobby of the foyer was finally coming into view. Winter Lilac grasped the heavy iron ring, pressed her shoulder to the wood, then pushed. On well oiled hinges it soundlessly glided outward, and opened up to what looked like the remnants of Armageddon. There was no wall or corner the eye could be directed to without seeing spatters or puddles of half-dried blood. The thick rush beneath their hooves made a sickening squishing sound, the red pooling around their hooves with every step, only to recede back into the intricately woven fibers of the once beautiful finery. The dead lay in two piles at opposite ends from one another in the first floor lobby. One pile was for pirates, their bodies haphazardly stacked to be unceremoniously burned. The other pile consisted of guards and soldiers, stewards and stewardesses and town citizens, to be sifted through and claimed by family, friends, or lovers, once the fighting was done.

The huge doors making up the main entrance to the palace were splintered and smashed inward at a thousand different places. A few hastily-conjured wards of magic made up the adhesive that held them together, while wooden poles were propped up against them to act as buttresses for additional support. The massive doors in the adjacent wall looked like they had taken quite a beating as well, but they were sturdy, and showed no sign that they would be yielding anytime soon.

"That's the throne room," Ethey indicated the doors. "Let me do the talking. The guards might not open up for any voice they don't recognize."

Twilight Sparkle filled her head with images of her dear friend as the little adviser went to go pound on the door. Fluttershy, she's just behind these doors. Fluttershy, at last... At long, long last. The memory of Fluttershy being taken away was maddening. She was so uncharacteristically brave that day. If Twilight recalled it correctly, Fluttershy was the only one who wasn't crying. 'I love you all,' she had imparted to everyone, before that repugnant bastard took her away, far beyond the frozen northern hills skirting the borders of the Chrystal Empire.

Twilight Sparkle wept inconsolably that night, refusing to eat, refusing to sleep, refusing to leave her private solar in the Chrystal Palace. It wasn't until exhaustion finally overwhelmed her, and sleep pulled Twilight into its embrace, when the seeds of her plan had been planted in the form of a dream. She dreamed of revenge. Sombra, bloodied and battered, too weak to even stand, groveled for mercy on his belly like the worm he was. Fluttershy came rushing into her arms after she tore his black heart out with her bare hooves, and exulted as the world was once again set right. It was upon waking from that glorious dream when she began writing out the letters. She would need to muster as much magical strength as she could.

Her friends were quick to assemble, and when Twilight had laid out her plan to them, they packed their gear and set out north. With the lunar and celestial bodies as her guide, as well as a compass, for when the sun and starts above were obscured by overcast, Twilight drove them forward through cutting winds and harsh tundra. They only had to stop twice to set up camp to eat, rest, and warm their extremities by a fire. It wasn't until the morning of the second day, after they rinsed their pots, doused their lamps, pulled their stakes, spooled their ropes, and filled their canteens with fresh fallen snow, when they had set out to discover the sight that was the keep, in all its grisly horror. It still made Twilight shiver when she thought of it. She knew it was only a sample of what was to come if Sombra wasn't stopped. It was then and there she had made her oath, before her friends, before any and all gods looking down on her, and before all the dead surrounding them: 'This is no longer just a rescue mission,' she had vowed. 'This is an assassination.' The hypocrisy was not lost on Twilight. She would never consider herself an assassin, but the need to put a stop to Sombra was far more than a necessity. It was as if fate itself had compelled her to carry out this task, cognitive dissonance be damned.

"Who's there?" demanded a voice on the other side of the door.

"Ethereal Moon. Now, open up!"

"The adviser?" said the voice.

"No, moron, the pop singer—yes, the adviser, now get these doors open!"

"Yeah, that's Ethey, alright," said another voice from behind the door. "Just a second, Madam Adviser."

The sound of a massive wooden crossbar could be heard sliding from metal brackets on the other side. Slowly, the doors began to separate. Inward they moved, the hinges groaning as the gap between them grew wider. Twilight couldn't wait any longer. The moment there was enough space to accommodate her she rushed inside. "Fluttershy!" she cried.

A massive bull of a yak and a stallion hefting a heavy flail stepped in front of her.

"She's with me," Ethereal Moon told them. "Let her through."

"The Queen isn't seeing anyone at the moment," said the stallion.

"Why not?" said Ethey.

"Queen is busy," replied the yak. "If purple pony want see queen, she wait."

"She'll see me!" Twilight insisted. "Just tell her. Tell her Twilight Sparkle is here!"

Just then, Twilight heard her, that familiar voice she had been longing to hear, soft as a breeze, sweet as a songbird. "Sir," she heard Fluttershy say, "I warn you, if you make me ask you again, I won't be asking nicely, now where is she?"

"At a bloody whore house!" roared another voice. This one was male. "We got'r locked in a stockade out in front, to be used by any passing gent who fancies her and has two minutes to spare!"

"Well, you have two legs to spare. Sergeant."

CRACK "GGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Now, the other." Fluttershy's voice was cold in a way that Twilight Sparkle had never heard before.

CRACK "GGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"I'll ask again," said the voice that ... couldn't have belonged to Fluttershy. "Where. Is. She."

Twilight tried to maneuver around the two guards in front of her, but they shadowed her movements almost perfectly.

"You just broke both my legs, bitch! You broke my arms, slashed my wings, and cut out my eyes. What more can you do to me?" challenged the male voice, half snarling and half sobbing.

"I can get creative."

The male voice shuddered in anguish.

Twilight tried to arch her back and extend her neck to see over the guards, but they both dwarfed her in stature. Even the stallion was a good head and a half taller than her. She thought about using her magic to throw them aside, but the prospect that Sombra may have been somewhere nearby, and that he would more than likely view that as a provocation, stayed her. She had wings, but she wasn't the best flyer, and the guards would probably have her subdued before her hooves could even leave the ground.

"He really doesn't need his legs to talk. We might as well just saw them off. Sergeant, I need you to look for the dullest blade you can find, and—"

"The camp!" the male voice finally said in an agonized shriek. "She was taken to our camp! There, you happy? Now, get on with it. Just do what we both know yer gonna do."

"The camp?" the voice that couldn't have been Fluttershy's confirmed. "The one you told me about back when you still had your eyes—twenty or so kilometers North by North-East, correct?"

"What other camp is there, you poxy cunt!"

"I guess that's better to go on than nothing at all." The voice that couldn't have been Fluttershy's darkened. "Sergeant."

"My Queen." There was the rasp of steel on leather, then the squelch of steel parting flesh, then there was a deep, guttural gurgling sound.

"Guards," the voice that couldn't have been Fluttershy's said.

The bull and the stallion who had been blocking Twilight's path turned to face the source of the voice. "Take this one out to the lobby. Throw him to the pile with the rest."

"My Queen!" they responded with uniform synchronization. Just as they were moving to do as the voice commanded, the stallion in the tattered crimson cloak looked back at Twilight, and he said dryly, "She ain't busy no more."

Twilight Sparkle could only stand there, frozen. There was a griffon guardsman cleaning fresh blood off his dagger. A dead griffon pirate lay face down at his feet, a pool of red expanding beneath him where his throat had just been opened only seconds ago. The mare standing next to the guard with the dagger watched unflinchingly as the yak and the stallion carried the body away. The mare had Fluttershy's sunflower yellow coat, and Fluttershy's cherry blossom tresses, and Fluttershy's sapphire blue eyes. When the girl with Fluttershy's features turned and noticed Twilight Sparkle gaping at her, her eyes went wide, almost as wide as her... Her ... bulging ... belly.

The neurons were firing in Twilight Sparkle's brain, but they didn't seem to know where to go. Her mouth opened, but then it closed. Her mouth opened again, yet still no words would come out.

"Twilight!" the girl who looked like Fluttershy shouted, tears welling in her eyes. "Twilight!" The girl who looked like Fluttershy was bounding toward her. "Twilight!" The girl who looked like Fluttershy threw her forelegs around her. "Twilight!" The girl who looked like Fluttershy was screaming and crying at the same time. "Twilight!" she cried again, her voice growing more hysterical each time she said it. "Twilight! Twilight! Twilight! Twilight! Twilight!"

Elixer of The Mongoose

The pain in his chest was the first thing his conscious mind was aware of, where the envenomed bolt which had chiseled his fate in stone had pierced his already once-pierced heart. The pain reminded Sombra of that fateful day, his brother's sadistic little smile, the way the twisted little shit giggled as the crossbow thrummed, his father's cold, implacable glare. Little prince, he had said, you will never be king, and you are no son of mine. The only solace King Sombra found in his dying was that he, undoubtedly, would be destined for the deepest depths of Tartarus, where his father was most likely waiting. Sombra was looking forward to their reunion, so he could kill him again, and again, and again, until the lakes of fire quenched, until The River Styx ran dry, until the skies fall and the titans rise to challenge the might of Olympus once again.

A figure was beginning to materialize before him as he grappled with his acuity. "His eyes are starting to focus," the image's voice echoed. "Doc, check his vitals."

Sombra tried to draw breath to speak, but the pain... "Flutter—" his beloved's name became a choking cough. Some fluid came up. Some red. Some black. "Where," was all he could say after that, in a horrid wet rattle. His voice sounded like he had been gargling a drought of scalding tar and broken glass.

The blurred figure looking down at Sombra was taking the form of his apothecary. "She's over there, my king." Winter Lilac was pointing, but The King did not even have the strength to lift his head so that he might cast his gaze in the direction she was indicating, try as he might.

Winter Lilac showed him a syringe, its reservoir pulsing with an emerald hue. "It's a good thing I made an extra dose. It won't do anything for the pain, but it should give you some of your strength back." There was a pinching sensation in Sombra's neck, and after several painful moments, his vision began to sharpen, his hearing was honing in, and some semblance of strength had finally returned to him. Once his faculties were in order, he noticed that both the apothecary and his doctor, Patches, were nearby. Ethereal Moon, his faithful adviser, was muffling her sobs into his shoulder.

The voice he then heard was as welcome as an oasis in a desert. "All that I do, I do to protect them."

My queen. Sombra didn't know how much time he had left, and he didn't have the strength to call out to her. All he could do was lift his head so that he could look upon her for what may have been the last time.

"And who's going to protect them from you?" Twilight Sparkle challenged her.

The Princess and her friends made it to the throne room, Sombra observed with relief. But what were they arguing about? Also, Starlight Glimmer, where was she? The King had planned to arrange the prison transport to take her to The Crystal Empire instead of the mines, he remembered, but then the siege...

"Twilight," Fluttershy's voice was calm, confident, and possessed an authoritative sort of stoicism. "I have a city to protect. Now, I'm giving you two options: Stand beside me and give me your assistance, or stand behind me and take refuge. Right now, all you're doing is standing in my way, and trust me, that's not where you want to be right now."

"Of course I want to assist you!" insisted Twilight. "But we need to make Starlight our priority. She came all the way up here to save you, Fluttershy; now she's the one who needs our help!"

"No," Fluttershy said, unyielding as the dragonbone crown that adorned her pretty little head. "I want to rescue her as much as you do, but charging into that camp will mean the death of anyone who tries—even you, capable as you are in battle. I learned their numbers from that pirate you won't stop chiding me about interrogating. Three thousand, Twilight. Three thousand! I know that sounds paltry in comparison to Celestia's vast infantry, but we're talking about three thousand blood thirsty, battle-hardened pirates against our town guard, our local militia, and whatever reserve forces we can muster from the garrison. The rest of my husband's army is fighting to capture territory farther up north, they don't even know any of this is happening right now. We need to remain on the defensive, Twilight; it's suicide to advance upon a foe's base while their forces are already harrying you from the rear."

Her first sortie, and she's already speaking with the wisdom of a decorated tactician. At that moment, Sombra's heart was awash with so much love and admiration for his little dove—at least he could die with a smile on his face. Their kingdom, he knew, would at least be left in capable hooves.

Three thousand, though. That was definitely an issue. Even Sombra himself wouldn't be so foolish as to charge headlong into such a certain... Or was he? Sombra eyed Winter Lilac's bag of tools and medicines, cultivating an idea... A suicidal idea, to be sure, but an idea none the less. Hell with it, thought he, after mere moments of deliberation. I'm dead no matter what I do. I was born into this world roaring, kicking and covered in blood... Let me leave it the same way. Sombra opened his mouth to speak, his chest seething with pain where the bolt had struck him. Every breath was a misery, yet his determination invigorated him. Determination, the outrage he felt for his people, and the love of his bride and unborn child. "Give... me..." He choked on every word, but he forced them out. "Give me..."

Winter Lilac blinked curiously before lowering her head to better hear him. Sombra whispered the ingredients to a concoction in her ear. "Extract of the Yggdrasil leaf ... essence of phoenix ... bark of The Leshy ... Sheva's tears ... " The list continued, and when he was finished, Winter suggested that he was mad. Sombra did not deny the accusation.

"That's one mother of a cocktail, sire. You'll be lucky if it doesn't make your heart explode."

"Just do—" Sombra began to hack up more globs of black and red.

"Okay, okay!" surrendered Winter. "Just, don't try to talk anymore. Save your strength. This heart attack in a bottle you're having me brew won't be any benefit to you if you're dead before I can even get it made." She then went to work, crushing this, mixing that, stirring these things with those things. She cursed when she dropped a tubular container on the ground, but she immediately acquired another one from her bag, not even bothering to clean up the broken glass in her haste.

Ethereal Moon was snuffling, her tear's streaking in black rivulets down her pale cheeks. "You can't leave us," she hiccuped between sobs.

Sombra felt helpless before the girl's sorrow. There were so many things he wanted to tell her: that she had served him well, that he was confident in her ability to serve Fluttershy just as well as she had served him, that he appreciated her, that he wished her well. Sombra had grown to love his little adviser so.

"Is there any comfort I can offer?" she sniffed as she lifted her glasses to wipe her eyes. "Anything? Any little thing at all?"

Sombra turned his gaze to his queen and bride. Her friends were still arguing with her. Petty, that. All arguments seemed petty to him now that he was dying.

"Your queen?" Ethey said. "You would speak with her?"

Sombra's reply was a weak nod. It required an absurd amount of effort just to do that, even with Winter's stimulant running through his veins. Hopefully the monstrous libation his apothecary was brewing for him would prove more effective.

Wordlessly Ethereal Moon went to The Queen, and obtrusively pulled her aside from the conversation she was having with her friends to whisper something into her ear. Sombra could not hear what she was telling her, but from the way his queen's eyes rounded out, the adviser must have made The King's request to see her sound dire. Fluttershy said something to her friends, which brought their conversation to a halt. Suddenly silent, they turned their collective gaze to The King, and Fluttershy led their procession to him. The ones named Sunset Shimmer and Moondancer moved with methodical unease, as if they were approaching some cornered beast. Twilight Sparkle's pace was more deliberate. Her expression was of one that had an axe to grind.

Keep looking at me that way, Princess. My blood may freeze in its veins before the venom has a chance to finish me off.

The Queen caressed her king's cheek. Her voice was sad, yet so very sweet. "You should be resting, my love."

"He'll be doing that soon enough," Twilight said under her breath, her voice bitter with unforgiving contempt.

She loves me not, that one, Sombra thought, yet he couldn't blame her. He had taken their Fluttershy from them, taken her all for himself. He remembered how wroth he was when they came along and tried to do the same.

"I'm almost finished, sire," said Winter Lilac. "I know it's hard for you to speak right now, but if you have something to say, now's the time to say it." She lifted a half-full container eye level to measure its contents. The bubbling fluid inside was red, and it's roiling and boiling became increasingly violent with every passing second. "The compound is becoming unstable, and I haven't even added the final ingredient yet. I'm not sure how you're body is going to react to this. If I'm being completely honest, I'm eager to witness the results for myself. I've never mixed these substances before."

"What do you mean?" Fluttershy looked at her. "What are you making?"

Sombra placed his hoof on her cheek and drew her gaze back to him. Looking her in the eyes, he forced the words through the gravel in his throat. "Starlight... Where..."

It took a moment for Fluttershy to be able to peace together what he was saying. "Starlight, she's been—"

"She's been taken!" Twilight bulled over her. "Those murderers have her at their camp, because they think you two are lovers."

All Sombra could do was blink at her, not understanding.

Twilight shouldered past Fluttershy and leaned down so close their noses were almost touching. "This is all your fault! One of your hired killers nicked their captain's lover short a head. Her name is Betha, she's on a warpath to exact her revenge, and somehow, someway, she was led to believe that Starlight Glimmer is some consort or concubine of yours, an outlandish assumption that made Starlight a priority target! Now, they have her, they've pretty much killed you, and they're going to be gunning for Fluttershy next. This is all your fault, Sombra, yours! You mad, murderous, marenapping, despotic lunatic!"

Fluttershy pulled her back by the scruff of her neck. "Stop yelling at him!"

"It's all his fault!" Twilight's voice had reached a fever pitch. "It's because of his warmongering—"

The throne room resonated with the echo Fluttershy's hoof made when she slapped her. Every eye in the throne room was now upon them. The dirge Violet Viola was playing ended abruptly with an unintended high note. Twilight, stunned, placed her hoof upon the reddening area where she had been struck.

"Your potion, sire." Winter lifted Sombra's head to help him drink. "And this isn't on me if this kills you."

I'm dead either way, Sombra thought as he eagerly swallowed the liquid. The King had had whiskies, brandies, vodkas, rums, absinthes, and some of the strongest fire wines in existence, but nothing in all his life had a burn like this. It felt like he was swallowing the liquid essence of fire itself, but he forced it down anyway. The worst it could do was grant him a quicker death; a preferable way to go over the agonizing hours he would spend alive while the venom ate him away on the inside.

"Twilight," Fluttershy was saying, "The northern realm is festering and diseased. Its corrupted flesh has to be cut out and cauterized before it can heal. You've no doubt seen what's happening outside these walls. Towns and hamlets pillaged and razed, their inhabitants crying for mercy as they're put to the sword. Do you honestly think things like that didn't happen until Sombra came along?"

Twilight framed a reply, but Sombra couldn't understand what she was saying over the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his eardrums... And the burning, like tendrils of fire spreading through his chest. He was gasping from the pain, his torso convulsing rapidly with expansions and contractions, then somehow, someway, he found the strength to split the air with a deafening howl.

Fluttershy threw herself on top of him, holding him, desperately trying to keep him from tearing the gaping wound in his chest any wider. "What's wrong with him!"

"This was his choice!" Winter had to shout to make herself be heard over Sombra's howling.

"What was his choice?" Fluttershy demanded.

"He ordered me to do it!" Winter said. "My only part in this was that I followed his orders."

"You're not answer my ques—" Fluttershy stopped yelling the moment she realized she no longer needed to. Her husband's thrashing had ceased, as did his screaming.

Sombra looked around, seeing only impenetrable twilight. It wasn't simply the kind of blackness that filled a windowless chamber once the candles had been snuffed out. The dark surrounding him was not merely the absence of light, but the absence of all things. It was then that an apparition revealed itself to him, parting the inky nothingness like a shroud, a pale horse garbed in all white, his face cowled as he grasped an ore in his hooves. To Sombra he made a beckoning motion, a gesture which Sombra declined. "Neigh," he said. "I still have one more thing to do."

The ferryman looked amused by that, but he waved him away, as if to grant him permission, and to insinuate he'd be waiting.

"Thank you, kind sir," said Sombra. He turned on his heels to leave, but before he left, he looked at the apparition from over his shoulder and said, "By the by, your face, it is so disappointingly plain. I do not mean to give offense, but I would have expected you to be so much more horrifying than all that: Skeletal figure, or perhaps necrotic flesh, worms crawling through your eye sockets. Instead, I find your face to be so..." He made a circular gesture with his hoof as he searched for a word. "Honest."

The ferryman shrugged, a quizzical smile on his face, as if to say, Hey, you get what you get, buddy.

Sombra didn't know how long he had been out, but he could hear his bride and adviser weeping over his supposed carcass. He could even feel their tears falling down upon him, warm droplets dappling his face and chest like a summer rain.

"His heart must have exploded," Winter was explaining. "I told him this would happen."

Sombra's eyes snapped open, glowing as they never did before. His chest expanded as he drew breath, then he let it out in a deep reverberating hum. He didn't know if that experience he just had was real, or if it was merely a hallucination, but all the same, he had one thing to do and not a lot of time in which to do it. He could still feel the potion burning inside him when he looked to his bride.

"My love?" Fluttershy said, her eyes brimming with wonder. "How are... What just... Are you..."

Sombra pulled her in an embrace and kissed her with such a maddened, fevered passion, it set his queen's cheeks to blazing bright red. The sheer unexpectedness of it set Fluttershy to trying to push him off, but her body soon went lax in his unyielding arms, her lips parting under his. When Sombra finally broke the kiss, his bride was looking just as tender and timid as she did on their wedding night, her beautiful blue eyes aglow with bemusement. Those sapphires of hers had been known to kindle the passion within him, especially when they were sparkling with mirth or inflamed with fury. If Sombra hadn't had more pressing issues to attend to he would have taken her right there, and damn all the eyes watching them.

Sombra set his little dove aside before he rolled off of his back, which elected a boisterous chorus of shock and awe from everyone in the throne room. The sudden burst of joy was an explosion. Eager mares, stallions, griffons and yaks rushed to his side to rain their affection upon him. Some of them would have probably tried to embrace him if the guards hadn't formed a wall to keep them back. "Stand down!" one of them shouted. "Get back. Give The King some room!"

Sombra ignored the praises and queries being heaped upon him. He simply didn't have time for it. He stretched his back, flexed his muscles, rolled his neck, shook his head. He was ready. Ready to fight, ready to kill, ready to die. He then strode for the door as the cheers and praises continued. He didn't bother to wait for the guards who were rushing to assist him. The drop bar required two stallions just to lift it, but Sombra effortlessly disengaged it by himself. The doors required two stallions on each side to pull them open, but all Sombra needed were his two hooves, the lines between the ripped, corded muscles in his back and arms deepening as he forced them apart. The heavy doors wailed in protest, brass hinges screaming.

"My love," Fluttershy called out to him. She was holding the potion flask Sombra had drank from when he turned to look at her. The Queen's eyes went back and forth between the vessel and him, then they flashed with comprehension. Forcing her tears back, she hardened her expression, and to him she said, "This Betha, this evil pirate bitch... You will bring me her head."

The demand prompted looks of unease from Twilight, Moondancer and Sunset Shimmer.

It was then that The King knew no stallion in history had ever loved a mare as much as he did her. "As you command, my queen," he said through the shrinking gap of the massive throne room doors, booming thunderously as they closed.

And Death Came Ripping

Rorg tugged at his arcane chains, seething. "Bitch," he murmured, cursing the thrice-blasted daughter of a whore who did this to him, then left him there to rot.

That girl was such a sweet peach, too, he thought, lamenting wistfully over the plunder that was unjustly taken from him. Such an exquisite beauty, that girl was. Those red eyes, her glossy midnight feathers, that perfect little ass of hers; small, yet just ample enough to fill his talons. And the way she screamed when I took her. Such a sweet serenade that was. It inflamed his already frustrated libido just remembering it. He loved it when they screamed. It was like an added spice that made his intimate conquests all the more exhilarating.

But then those pompous holier-than-thou bitches just had to go and ruin my fun ... blasted my club all to pieces, damn them. I cheated my way through a poker game for that club! I swear, I'll kill that purple bitch if I ever see her again. And then I'll find the girl she stole from me. I'll have her again, an' ain't nobody gonna interrupt us this time. Hell, I could even take her back to the ship and share her with the rest o' the lads. Now, there was a fun idea. Betha would like that. She'd probably want to watch. She'll swig her rum and shout ribald jests and bawdy suggestions from that big cushy chair of hers, making her crew laugh as the crew made the girl cry. The captain may even reward him for providing her with such a lively night of amusement. After the girl's been used until she ain't worth usin' no more, I'll pluck one o' them pretty black feathers o' hers before we feed her to the sharks. What a sweet memento that'll make.

A griffon came limping from out of the gloom, the dim, rutty light of the chandelier revealing his haggard form. He was clutching his side as he breathed short, shallow breaths. "Damn bitch!" he wheezed. "Damn near killed me."

"Dagri?" the manacled pirate laughed when he noticed him. "You okay?"

"I think my rib's broke."

"The cute one with the red and yellow hair," smirked Rorg. "The wench walloped you and Kane good, huh?"

Dagri sneered at him. "Shut up, Rorg, you got your ass kicked, too."

Rorg rattled his magical restraints, smiling playfully. "When a girl chains you up it's a sign they want you. Poor thing just didn't know what to do with me afterwards."

Dagri's attempt to deride him with a sarcastic laugh ended with him wincing as he clutched at the blackening blotch in his side, where 'the cute one' had cutely kicked his rib in.

"Look on the bright side," consoled Rorg, "at least you ain't Fieldy."

Dagri and Rorg directed their gazes toward the poor sod, all bent and broken like a twisted up rag doll. He had stopped sobbing some time ago, though he would still twitch every so often.

"He dead?" queried Rorg.

Dagri bent down to inspect him. "Still breathing," he announced. "Probably in shock, poor bastard."

Rorg had thought as much. "He's a liability to us now. Betha would just throw him overboard if we brought him back to her in the shape he's in, and it ain't right just leaving em here like this."

Dagri was already putting their broken comrade out of his misery by the time Rorg could finish the hint. "Rest well, boyo," he said, as he drew the dagger's blade across his throat in one deep slice, the finely-honed edge parting feathers, flesh and arteries like a veiny cheesecloth. "Davy Jones'll be serving you some o' that good spiced rum o' his at his table tonight."

Rorg watched apathetically as the blood gurgled out from the laceration in rhythmic pulses. It made him think of his sweet peaches' red eyes. She was all he could think about. She was his plunder. His. He was eager to have her back. "The deed's been done," he said impatiently. "Now, get me free."

"What about Kane?"

"What about him?" said Rorg.

"He's hurt real bad. He ain't waking up."

"If he ain't waking up, we'll just have to do him like you did Fieldy, there."

"I suppose," conceded Dagri. "But you gotta do it. Bad enough I already had to kill one o' my own today."

"FInd some way to free me, or I'll kill both of..." A sudden movement in the darkness drove a wedge between his thoughts. His eyes narrowed, focusing beyond the faint whisper of light the chandelier provided. He could have sworn he just saw something moving, but it was so dark; a shadow within a shadow. "Bloody hell was that?"

Dagri cocked a bemused eyebrow at him before he turned around... Nothing... He returned to Rorg with a perplexed look. "What are you looking—" his query turned into a scream when a red spike suddenly burst forth from his chest. He clutched at its point, screaming, screaming, screaming madly in anguish as his feet left the ground, hind legs kicking.

The color drained from Rorg's face as he beheld the eldritch demon in all its horror, his hapless mate impaled on its horn, his blood streaming down its black face like flowing rills of red wine. And when it opened its eyes, orbs of jade slashed in sanguine, Rorg's bowels turned to water. Oh, gods...

Dagri howled, every slight jostle of the demon's head evoking shrieks of agony.

Rorg pulled desperately at his chains in an attempt to free himself. I know I've been bad, he prayed, frantic. I've done so many bad things, but I beg you, O merciful gods, have pity! Away this ... this thing, and give me refuge!

With a whip of his head the demon launched poor Dagri screaming into the unyielding wall, next to where the incapacitated Kane was lying. The pirate's gaping wound left a red blot where he careened into the stone barrier with a wet, fleshy smack. Bleeding like a stuck pig, and with more broken bones than he could count on his talons and toes, he somehow managed to find the strength to lift a pleading talon. The last word he ever spoke on this earth came out in a rasp so soft it was barely audible. "Y-yield."

A pulse of light surged from the tip of the demon's blood-slicked horn, a projectile flashed across the chamber, and Dagri and Kane were both engulfed in roaring flames. Two black silhouettes contrasted the conflagration like shadows writhing behind a scarlet curtain, and when it stymied moments later all that remained of them were two charred piles of ash.

Rorg pressed his back against the wall as the demon started toward him, Dagri's blood running down his face in crimson tears, his eyes glowing like pits of starlight set in a visage glowering so implacably the expression might as well have been carved in a block of black marble.

"I've no quarrel with you! Stay back! Get away! I'm chained up! Look at me, I'm chained! I'm no threat to yo—Ach!" His pleas ended in a croak when the monster pulled at him, the phantom chain anchoring him to the wall snapping taught with a high metallic note. His beak split wide in a breathless gasp, eyes watering as the collar around his neck became a garrote. The pirate felt his spine stretching under the force. His paws drummed frantically against the stone floor. Colors began to swim about his vision as his windpipe yielded under the strain.

The last image his mind conjured before the darkness finally enveloped him was a mosaic of all his victims, all those whom he had either killed, or raped, or both. When it panned out to reveal the picture his innumerable sins had collaborated to create, he could see that it was the face of a pale horse, garbed and cowled in white. The ghostly image in the portrait seemed to become lucid as it raised its hoof, and to the pirate named Rorg, it beckoned him to follow.

Standing over the remains of the dreg he had just strangled with The Princess of Friendship's own chains, Sombra reached out with his senses to confirm that all the pirates in his palace had been eliminated, his horn scanning meticulously for the auras that indicated life. He identified the lifeforms of his guards patrolling his halls and those in the throne room. There was one oddity he hadn't expected, but its essence was familiar. Shantae's on the prowl. It was best to leave that one to his own devises. Other than those exclusions his palace seemed to be secure.

His body count up to now numbered in a mere dozen. He had come across more dead pirates than live ones. His wife taking command of his guard had something to do with that, he did not doubt. My lioness, he thought, a fierce pride swelling within his heart. But now was not the time to be sentimental. The pain in his chest was throbbing, the venom in his blood was burning, he had work to do. It was time to meet the enemy on the open battlefield.

Swift, silent and formless he crept. Through a breach in his walls he went, then up to the battlements he crawled. His shade raced along the lofty ramparts, weaving unnoticed and unhindered between the feet of his archers. He scaled the highest tower of his palace, then once again took form when he had arrived at its apex.

With scrutinizing eyes he surveyed the battlefield below, searching amongst the myriad of skirmishes where his enemies would be the thickest. A distant blast suddenly drew his attention, and to his irritation another piece of his palace was blown away. He sneered when he noticed the squad of cannons set up on a far hill. Those had to go.

Sombra's horn began to flicker. His magic lifted him off his perch, and in a sudden burst like a clap of thunder he ripped across the sky, a black bolt of lightening slashing the firmament. A sudden seizure of pain in his chest gripped him in mid flight, and instead of landing where the cannons had been stationed, he slammed with all the subtle grace of a meteor at the base of their hill.

Cursing, he unearthed himself, then looked up to realize he had been noticed. There were three cannons in all, each operated by a team of five griffons: anglers, loaders, packers, lighters, and spotters. Sombra was looking up at them. They were looking down at him.

Move! Sombra rushed them, ignoring the pain in his chest.

Startled spotters frantically shouted commands. Anglers moved to adjust the trajectory of their artillery, pivoting, then lowering. A heavy iron ball fell out of one of the cannons, embedding itself harmlessly in the snow.

"You stupid son of a bitch, you didn't pack the wad!" the spotter admonished to the packer.

"I didn't think I would have to!" the packer shot back defensively. "We've been firing in upward arcs this entire time."

Another team was working feverishly to get their cannon prepped. It's muzzle was still blazing red from its most recent blast. The loader, his talons tremulous with urgency, emptied contents from a powder horn into the breach, whilst the packer fumbled to retrieve a ball from their cache. One cannon, however, was properly loaded, generously powdered, thoroughly packed, and the lighter was lowering the torch, the flame kissing the fuse with a hiss.

Sombra was tearing up the hill like a madman. Despite the hindrance of his heavy armor, he arrived at the cannon's muzzle mere seconds before the sibilating blossom of sparks could ride the fuse all the way to the breach. He drew back, then struck it with a powerful, sweeping blow. The barrel gonged thunderously. Wagon wheels creaked as they were knocked off their chocks. The cogs giving torque to the artillery's locking leaver released under the impact. The cannon rotated, then landed with its business end honed on the other two cannons queued down its side.

Sombra covered his ears, bearing his teeth in a malicious smile. The pirate's befouled the air with expletives as they scurried the hell out of the way. Then the cannon thundered.

Liberated from its chocks and locks, the cannon was sent flying back. The two cannons caught in the blast were decimated, bores and pivots alike sent shattering in a wave of iron shrapnel and wooden splinters. Six members of the two artillery crews were fast enough to get out of the way in time. The other four, however, were not so lucky. There were barely any remains left of the bastards; just blood and feathers.

Sombra found himself surrounded by what remained of the cannon teams, eleven pirates with swords drawn. None of them seemed eager to attack first, so Sombra obliged them. Rushing forward, fast and sudden as the snap of a bowstring, he brained one with a heavy blow, skull and brains yielding beneath the force of his steel shod hoof like a soft boiled egg. While he was doing that, one of the fools had gotten the notion to blindside him with an arcing blow to his head. Sombra caught him by the arm in mid-swing, then snapped it off at the elbow as he would a twig. The pirate fell, howling as he clutched the fountaining stump.

Sparks showered and steel sang as Sombra guarded against blows with his gauntlets, the rapidity of the twanging and banging like a hailstorm of ball bearings battering against a bronze bell. The flurry of the nine who had managed to survive thus far left little margin for error, but at last a gap presented itself. Sombra seized upon it, blasting one of the pirates hard in the gut with such a fiercely powerful under arcing punch it shattered his spine, killing him instantly. The King then managed to put some distance between him and the rest of them with a backwards leap, then dispatched two more in rapid succession with highly condensed slugs of magic, the arcane bullets tunneling through their bodies like searing hot balls of lead.

The expressions on the faces of the six that still remained were beginning to betray the moonings of despair. One of them seemed to remember a pressing engagement elsewhere. "You guys got this," he imparted before he took to the sky.

"Grin, you chicken shit!" one of them shouted after him.

Pouncing upon the distraction, Sombra conjured a spell. "Hey," he said, reclaiming their attention, "what's that?" He indicated the black spiral he had evoked at their feet.

The befuddled pirates looked down at the dark anomaly on the ground. No bigger than their fists, it spiraled in on itself with a mysterious black glow, speckled with bits of white, like a constellation swirling within a black hole. The griffons beheld it with growing disquiet. Then, the fractal assumed the properties of a bristling cocklbur. The griffons screamed and cried and cawed as hundreds of shadowy spikes, like elongated quills protracting from a spring loaded trap, perforated their bodies. With a flick of Sombra's horn, the deadly magical contraption he had devised retracted its long nibs back into itself, and the pirates' lifeless husks buckled like a quintet of puppets with their strings simultaneously cut.

Sombra turned his attention to the fleeing griffon. He charged a spell ... but then he thought better of it. That one could lead me to this Betha I've heard so much about. Then he looked back at the tumult raging throughout his streets. The hilltop from which he surveyed the smoldering battle offered him a grand view of all the carnage. He couldn't just abandon those he as their king was sworn to protect. He looked at the griffon one last time. He was practically a dot on the horizon now, shrinking evermore. Run, coward. Flee. Tell your pirate queen of the nightmare that awaits her. "New Haven," he said, "has room for only one queen."

Turning, Sombra pulled for the magic that would send him crashing down at the center of the battlefield like a falling star, but then another seizure took him. Sombra clutched at his hammering heart, panting, frothing, gasping. His gorge began to rise, and when he finished retching he looked down at the steaming puddle of black blood melting the snow, like balls of white wax disintegrating in a pot of boiling pitch.

His time was nigh, he knew. Nigh—yes—but not just yet.

Steadying himself, Sombra swallowed the pain, pushing it to the farthest reaches of his mind. Once his breathing became regular again, he resolved to abstain from using any spells that would cost exorbitant amounts of magic, for they seemed to be the trigger for his convulsions. That suited him just fine. There was something so viscerally personal about killing an enemy with his own hooves, and for what or whom could he harbor more personal animosity than those who had come to kill his people and queen?

King Sombra began his advance, charging headlong toward the besieged hamlet. Down the hill and across the frozen plain he flew as if endowed with Hermese wings, the snow parting in his wake as he carved a trench to mark his path. Bereft of his magic, a berserker he resolved to be, and a berserker he was, quaking earth and sky with a deafening roar to announce his arrival, a shadow of death ripping into the maw of the melee.

The thundering sound jolted Betha upright from her lacquered wooden chair. Pausing, she waited for it to recede. "Rozo."

Rozo's head parted the flaps of the captain's fur tent. "Ma'am?"

"What was that?" Betha said.

"Not entirely sure, cap'n," said Rozo. "Sounded like it came rolling in from the south."

"Thunder?"

Rozo shook his head. "Ain't no thunderheads in the sky, far as I can see."

Betha seemed to ponder upon that for a moment, but then she shrugged it off. She waved her subordinate away. "I have a guest to entertain. Be sure the barbs on my trident are sharpened by the time we're ready for the attack."

"Ma'am." The first mate's head disappeared, leaving a thin sliver of pale daylight where the fur flaps joined.

"Now, where were we?" She turned to regard Starlight Glimmer with a smile, the golden bells in her drooping feathers gleaming in the light radiating from the oil lamp set upon the trestle table between them.

Starlight Glimmer muttered as a string of spittle bobbed down from the corner of her lips. Her head was foggy from blood loss, the fever burning away at what remained of her wits. And there was the pain. Her arm. Her flank. She never knew anything in all her life could hurt so bad.

Betha placed her talon upon the platter set at the center of the table, then pushed it toward her. "You need your strength," she said. "Eat."

Starlight Glimmer looked down at where her left arm had ended at the elbow. The arm she had broken was no longer there. The stump was wrapped in a cocoon of bandages blotched in rust-colored stains. She looked at the platter of meat that had been offered to her, an equine foreleg seared to a golden brown, dripping with grease. It didn't require a genius to figure out where the meat had come from.

"Well?" Betha said, spreading her hands. "How is it?"

Starlight stared in sullen silence at the cooked hunk of meat that had once been her prominent arm.

Betha rammed the tip of her golden dagger into the table with a heavy thunk. The plates and silverware jarred. "I said, how is it!"

Starlight coward under the sudden display of fury. "It's good!" she proclaimed at once, voice quavering.

"You haven't even taken a bite yet," Betha pointed out.

"Please, don't make me..."

Betha wrapped her talon about the handle of her golden dagger, still firmly embedded into the table. "Perhaps you'd prefer the taste of your eyes instead?"

Starlight, shivering, took the leg off the plate.

Betha's grimace sweetened as she released her grip from the upturned blade. "Go on now," she said. "I cooked that just for you. You're starting to hurt my feelings. You don't want to hurt my feelings ... do you?"

Starlight glimmer lifted the leg so that her mouth would be obscured from her sadistic hostess's line of sight. Her teeth grazed against the meat ever so slightly. Then she said, "It... It's good."

Betha cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Starlight nodded.

"Well then," said Betha, settling back in her lacquered chair, "don't be shy. Dig in."

Starlight looked at the meat. Just the smell from the wispy tendrils wafting off of it was enough to make her stomach churn. "I'm not hungry," she whimpered, fearing the repercussions of her statement.

"Really?" Betha looked amused. "Well, perhaps a little ... salt ... would stimulate your appetite?"

A sobering surge of terror seized Starlight at the mere mention of the word, the raw weeping eye that was her flayed flank screaming in agony. "No, please... I-I... Please." Unbidden tears began to fill her eyes. "I'll... I'll eat it... Just, please... Not the salt. Anything—anything but that."

"That a girl!" Betha saluted her with a bottle of rum in her talon. She wiped her mouth after taking a generous pull from its mouth, then slammed it back on the table with a thump. "Now, go on. And if the next bite you take doesn't scrape the bone, well..." She drummed her fingers on the table, next to where the jar of salt lay.

Mortified, Starlight parted her lips wide over the flesh, then bit down as deep as she could. The meat ripped away with such a sickening sound, and It had an unpleasantly stringy texture to it. She shuddered as she forced herself to chew.

"How's it taste?" inquired Betha. "Can I barbecue, or what?"

Starlight, grimacing as her cheeks bulged, made herself nod.

"Well?" betha said. "Aren't you going to swallow it?"

Starlight tried, but she couldn't. As an equine meat held no appeal to her, much less chevaline—and even less than that, her own leg. It was an incredibly macabre feeling, eating yourself.

Betha's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Swallow it, bitch."

Starlight tried. Oh, gods, did she try. But she just couldn't make it go down.

Betha grabbed a fistful of salt from the jar, stood, then rounded the table.

Starlight choked as she shook her head in a frantic, pleading manner. She lifted a hoof, as if to fend her away, but Betha swept it aside and slapped the mound of salt hard against her skinless flank. Screams and chunks of chewed meat came flying from her mouth as the finely ground mineral sizzled in a foam against her exposed sinew. She didn't even feel her body colliding with the floor when she fell out of her chair. Nothing but the screaming rent in her flank existed.

"You must be thirsty after all that salt," Betha purred as she reached for the bottle of rum on the table. "Here, let me poor you a drink."

Starlight attempted vainly to cover the wound with the one good hoof she had, but when the rum spilled over it, it was like a drizzle of flaming turpentine. The pain was enough to make her tear her own hair out as she writhed and kicked on the floor.

"Come now, I know this isn't the best rum ever made, but it ain't that bad." She took another swig, then frowned disapprovingly at the bottle. "Ghu, I guess it is pretty shit, innit?"

Starlight, finally over the cusp of her breaking point, began to cry. She did not weep, nor did she sob. She cried, mouth agape in an anguished shriek of distress, like a babe squalling after tumbling over the rungs of her crib, vociferous and piteous.

Betha basked in the symphony of her misery for a moment, then turned her attention toward the seared leg of meat. She snatched it off the plate, flipped it in the air, caught it, then ripped into it with a generous bite. "Keep screaming for me," she mumbled through a mouthful of Starlight's leg. "I like to be serenaded while I dine." Then she walked away, leaving her guest to squirm on the floor.

The captain reclaimed her seat at the table, and made morbid comments as she feasted. "You know," she said, after washing a chunk of mare flesh down with a cup of ale, "you're pretty tasty. I'm looking forward to eating the rest of you after this is all done. That firm little ass of yours'll make some nice stakes." She ripped another mouthful away from the bone. "I'll give your ribs to Rozo. He loves ribs, by the way. Did you know that? The way his eyes light up when he's got a mouthful of rib meat bulging his cheeks, it's adorable." She took another bite. "And your cutie mark, that's going in my collection once the skin's been dried out." She dabbed at the grease running down her beak with a silk napkin, then gave the bone a toss.

Starlight's lamentations of anguish remained unabated as it bounced off her head.

Rozo suddenly burst through the flaps of the tent. "Cap'n!"

Betha was picking gristle out from her beak as she turned to acknowledge him. "Rozo, I was just telling my guest here about your love for—"

"Grin needs to speak with you!"

"Grin?" Replied Betha. "He was part of the first wave. What's he doing back already?" She suddenly stiffened in her seat. "Has the town already fallen?"

"No, quite the opposite. The cannon team was killed, our siege weapons were demolished before they could bring down the palace!"

"What!" Betha shot up from her seat so fast the chair was sent scuttering back. "You told me Sombra's soldiers were up North!"

"They are," Rozo assured her. "But, their town militia is stronger and better organized than we anticipated."

Betha slammed her fists on the table so hard her golden dagger dislodged itself from the wood, then clamored against the floor with a resonant report. "Are you telling me my cannoneers were slaughtered by a ravel of hicks armed with pothelms and pitchforks?"

"No, ma'am," said Rozo, his voice darkening. "They was killed by The King."

"The King killed them himself?"

Rozo drew open the flaps of the tent and beckoned his captain to follow. "Grin knows more about it than I do. He's the only survivor, he says."

Wordlessly the captain followed him outside.

Starlight Glimmer couldn't say how long Betha had been gone. Time seemed to lose all meaning when she was in so much pain; everything lost its meaning; the agony was all her world consisted of now. By sheer chance she turned her head, and through the blur of tears she managed to glimpse Betha's golden dagger. That was when a dark thought entered her mind, an urge to commit an act she never thought she would ever consider. She looked at the blade as a key, a way to unlock the path for her exit from all the pain.

Painstakingly she crawled toward the implement of her freedom, her rent flank dragging broad brushstrokes of red on the floor.

With the dagger finally in her grasp, she pressed the edge to her jugular. She closed her eyes, and felt her heart pounding in her chest as her preservational instincts clashed with her desperation to end her torment. They're just going to kill me anyway, she told herself. Kill me, then eat me; at least this way I'll be going out on my own terms.

The tent flaps suddenly burst open.

Startled, Starlight pulled the dagger from her throat and hid it behind her back.

"I need you to organize the rest of the crews!" Betha blustered. "We're attacking now, while the numbers still favor us."

"What about your plan to attack at noon?"

"The first wave will be eliminated by then, you imbecile! We lost our siege support, and it's not like we have the time to haul more cannons down from the ships. Take the bugle, assemble the crews. Have someone bring me my net and trident. I'm going to start loading my bomb satchel after I do away with—where is that little bitch!"

The table Starlight had crawled under in order to get to the dagger suddenly flipped away to reveal Rozo's cold eyes looking down at her. "Here, Cap'n."

"I don't have time to play with her anymore. Cut that bitch's throat," Betha commanded. "Better yet, just saw her head clean off. I'm going to present it to Sombra before I gore him with my squid sticker and swirl his guts around in his belly like a barrel full of eels."

"Yes, cap'n." The first mate Rozo approached Starlight with dagger drawn.

Starlight thrashed as he pinned her head back by her hair. "Nothin' personal, poppet." He raised his dagger.

There was a sudden voice in Starlight's head. It said to her, Do you really want to die a coward? She couldn't have said what madness possessed her at that moment. "Likewise," she replied, then spit a gelatinous confection of mucus and blood and saliva into his eyes.

Rozo turned his head away in a grunt of surprise, giving Starlight all the time she needed to reach behind her back. Betha's golden dagger flashed, and the first mate fell back with a deep gash across his throat. He thudded on the floor, twisting, writhing, gurgling, choking.

"Rozo!" Betha shrieked, and in a flash she was at his side, clutching his talon against her breast. "Rozo, don't leave me! I already lost Cassius, I can't lose you, too!"

Then the first mate named Rozo was still.

Betha, for the first time, looked at Starlight Glimmer with an expression that wasn't twisted in sadistic amusement or malicious fury. It was that vacant, watery eyed thousand yard stare one might have while listening to a loved one's eulogy. At that moment she almost looked vulnerable. "You killed him... My first mate, he's dead."

Starlight couldn't bring herself to feel remorseful, not after everything that had been done to her. The nothingness she felt after taking her first life surprised even her. "He died like a bitch," she spat, "and so did your precious Cassius."

The air in the tent suddenly felt colder.

Betha's incredulous eyes widened. Twice she tried to speak, but words wouldn't come. Finally she threw her head back and cried a piercing caw so loud it grazed against Starlight's eardrums like a razor blade.

Starlight raised the dagger as the captain came at her, but the griffon snagged the one good arm she had left in her talon and twisted it so hard it cracked audibly at the wrist. The dagger fell from her grasp as Starlight opened her mouth to cry out, then Betha was on her, swiping with her talons, swiping, swiping, swiping, slashing, shredding, ripping, tearing, flecks of her blood flying in sprays, dousing the fur walls, drenching the glass cylinder of the oil lamp, bathing the insides of the tent in a bloody light.

Bellowing, the captain dragged Starlight outside by her hair. "Hang her!" she was screaming, to everyone and no one. "Do it now! Hang her. Hang her up! Hang her high, and bleed her dry!"

Starlight, barely coherent, three quarters and twenty four pennies of the way dead, felt numerous talons grasping at her. No matter what they do to me, I'm not going to scream. I've already screamed enough for one day. I'll die knowing I've denied Betha that satisfaction.

The pirates brought Starlight into the tent that had been setup as a makeshift butchery, the place where her cutie mark had been flayed from her flank.

I won't scream, she told herself again.

They took her to a meat hook dangling high from a chain. Beneath it was a bucket.

I won't scream.

She was hoisted up by numerous talons, then felt the steel driving deep into her back. And then she was screaming.

Running Out of Time

ARRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The crews amassed as the bugle's reverberating wail rumbled throughout the camp, a deep note announcing that the time had come.

From smoldering cook fires and fur tents they came, answering its call like hordes of soldier ants marching at their queen's behest. Ready for battle, they marshaled in a broad ring around Betha's pavilion, bearing their clubs and cutlasses. Some had iron tipped spears and quivers filled with barbed javelins. Others hefted crossbows, harpoons, and stitched hide satchels bulging with bombs slung at the shoulder.

Betha seethed beneath the shade of her pavilion's canopy in silent fury as they gathered around her in a discordant cacophony of voices. She had been in blacker humors before, but for the life of her she could not recall when or why. Such terrible vengeance she vowed to inflict upon her enemies. The murderer and scoundrel Shantae would be keelhauled to a yole and dragged over the jagged reefs of the frozen shore, where the ridged barnacles and razor fossils would shred him to pieces. The King she had planned to dismember until he was naught but a living torso with a head. That way he could be forced to watch as Betha rips the whelp out from the womb of that bitch queen of his. After spit roasting the fetus for an appetizer, she would serve the mother as the main course. Cooked to a golden brown, she would be basted with a marinade of herbs and pan drippings, then presented with a shiny red apple wedged between her teeth. After attending the feast as Betha's guest of honor, the limbless king would be carted outside to be lowered and lashed to the fore of The Black Basilisk, a sentient figurehead crucified beneath the bow. By day he would bake in the sun, and by night the constant slaps of the ocean spray would chill him to the bone. By sunstroke, by chill, by hunger or by heartsickness, one would eventually claim him. It would take days, perhaps even a fortnight, Betha could only hope. The captain planned to leave him there for the galls to pick clean after he was finally dead. A king's skeleton—it would make for a fine festoon. She may even dip the bones in gold and pose them to preserve them for permanent display.

When the thriving throng had finally amassed, and all but the few stragglers rushing to meld themselves in with the crowd were in attendance, Betha tossed the bugle aside and stood from her chair. In one languid motion she ripped the prongs of her golden trident from the earth, gave it a spin, then thrust its points toward the sky. "Sombra!" She bellowed, her savage cry drowning out the voices of those gathered around her.

A captivated hush fell over the camp, sudden and silent as death.

Sneering, Betha swept that golden gaze of hers over the crowd. She spread her arms wide and proclaimed to them, "Today marks the end for this tyrant, this megalomaniac who would style himself in the fashion of a king!"

The crowd roared their response as they raised their weapons, and for that moment Betha stood upon an island surrounded by a sea of bristling steel. Cutlasses waved, steel-studded driftwood cudgels swayed, archers raised their uncocked crossbows, and spearheads bobbed up and down like rippling waves of iron.

Trident in talon, Betha opened her wings to lift herself above her pavilion. The calamity began to peter as they watched her move into position. High and center with all eyes upon her, she inclined her weapon downward toward the amalgamation of crews. "And who is he," the pirate said, "that we must bow so low?"

The rhetorical statement sparked a short but vehement gale of agreement.

"I ask you," The Captain then put to them, "what is a king?" And not waiting for an answer, she said, "A decaying pile of offal, who thinks the shiny hunk of metal sitting atop his inflated head gives him the authority of a god. 'This land is my land,' he says. 'These waters are my waters,' he demands. 'These are my farms; my orchards; my mines.' "

The crowd reciprocated their disgust with a burst of boos and jeers between each sentence.

" 'These are my taxes, you will pay them. These are my laws, you will obey them. And when I send my army to march upon those who will not pay my taxes or obey my laws, your property is mine to appropriate as I see fit.' Celestia and Sombra alike, they murder us, they drive us from our homes, and they take, and take, and take, rapaciously, insatiably, always demanding more!" Betha let out a humorless bark of laughter. "And they have the gall—the absolute temerity—to call us the plunderers? Hypocrites, I say!" Betha slashed the air with a backhanded swing of her trident. "Devils!" she added. "Despots!"

"Despots!" The pirates parroted in agreement.

"They would have us lick their hooves, to grovel in the dirt with the rest of the sycophants. Well, I'm sorry, but the life of some subjugated peasant just doesn't appeal to me, living face down with my ass in the air to be buggered by some king whenever the whim strikes his fancy. I ain't following no king's laws, and I damn sure ain't paying no king's taxes. I choose to be free, and I intend to remain that way. Who's with me!"

Nobody could have said who started the chant, but soon they all took it up, a collective of shouts forming one thunderous monosyllabic intonement. "Free! Free! Free!" Their combined voices created a deep echo that rolled throughout the sky as they pumped their weapons above their heads to the rhythm of their mantra. "Free! Free! Free! Free!"

"This king comes to kill and pillage while telling us, those who were here far before he ever was, that we can't do the same? Under whose authority—his, a self proclaimed king? Make no mistake: We were not the ones who started this war, but we will be the ones to end it, now and today!" Betha's golden trident flashed like a bolt of lightening when she thrust it toward the sky. "YO HO YO HO!" prompted she.

"YO HO YO HO!" her crew roared.

"YO HO YO HO!" Betha cried.

The group all around her pumped their weapons in unison with their "YO HO YO HO!"

And when Betha threw her head back to emit the war cry that would initiate the beginning of their advance, their voices joined with hers, a deafening bellow heard for miles all around.

High, high above them, a murder of carrion birds were gathering, as if to await their hosts in leading them to the impending feast.

Surmounting the knoll of shattered bones and sundered flesh, The King swung his head about like a savage lion anticipating his next challenger, eyes red and teeth barred. From countless wounds he bled, and at one point another round of convulsions had staggered him as he was amidst the throes of an onslaught. A barbed harpoon, lobbed from an opportunist who took advantage of his brief incapacitation, had lodged itself deep into his flank. The missile rendered the anguish incurred by the slightest jounce or bounce debilitating. All but crippled, and with nary a corpsman to be espied amongst the writhing tumult of steel and fury all around him, he had no other choice but to grit his teeth and rip it out by the shaft. Upon its hasty removal, the cruel barb had laid his hide open from flank to gaskin, leaving behind a deep rend that wept copiously his life's blood. Sombra looked away from the wound, grimacing, then eyed the torch ensconced within the niche of a glass shaper's stall, and he knew at that instant what must be done. Smoldering, the torch hissed violently against the red, ruined flesh like a kettle of angry snakes, and the subsequent pain lancing down the cloven flesh was incredible—but it was a necessary operation in order to staunch the profuse flow of red spilling fourth from the tear. The King had lost count of how many times he had been shot. Various quarrels and bolts feathered his back, giving him the obscene appearance of some great black porcupine. Two shafts were lodged in his torso, and the one sticking out from the side of his neck had miraculously missed every single vital point to embed itself deep within the muscle. The King didn't know how many among the projectiles quilling his body had been envenomed, but that mattered not. He was a walking corpse as far as he was concerned. All there was left for him to do was fight until he could not fight anymore.

Ere they had come to kill him, yet now they had come to fear him. King Sombra had never been a comely sight to behold, especially in the dark, with his eyes glowing like demonic lanterns, but now his countless wounds and rills of blood coursing down his black hair and ashen face had bore his countenance a horror to look upon. The griffons surrounding him affected irresolute expressions, unsure of whether or not they should stand their ground or break their line. Their weapons were drawn in front of them, blades and iron points quivering at the ends of their oaken shafts, yet none seemed to be in possession of the intestinal fortitude required to sally forth. Some hid their anxieties behind iron-hard glares, but Sombra was accustomed to the scent of fear. And fear him they did.

The King leapt down from the fleshy perch of bludgeoned bodies and pressed the attack, since the cowards were seemingly hesitant to do so themselves. His hapless target was quick to drop his steely facade as he turned to retreat, his vernacular a stream of panicked curses. Sombra landed full on his back, since the fool was so gracious as to expose it to him. There was a scream, a sound like a pile of chicken bones being compacted into splinters, and his target began to weep. Content on leaving his now-immobile victim to writhe away in his last moments left of his pitiful life, Sombra turned just in time to parry the bite of a steel cutlass aimed for his head. The blade swished icily, a steel fang gleaming like winter lightening as it cleaved naught but air. The King's counter attack was quick and decisive, sweeping the swordsman's leg out from under him. With a horrible "squawk!" the pirate dropped his sword and cried piteously to his friends for help before he was lifted by his hind paw and slammed mercilessly against the ground. The air went out of him, but he still struggled like an animal caught in a trap. After five or six more body slams the dead pirate's carcass was no more than a feathery sack of jellied organs and spalled bones. Sombra dropped him unceremoniously, and before the cur's body could land to sprawl dead and prone in the snow he was already upon his next target.

Stick and move, thus was Sombra's strategy, attaching then detaching himself with his guards and militia in their various skirmishes all over town. Sombra was the decisive factor that dictated the outcome of every melee in which he melded himself, and the Newhavenites who were once scattered and routed managed to regroup with their factions. In this Sombra had brought organization to the siege. This didn't bode well for the remaining pirates, whose victories were reliant upon chaos, ambush and subterfuge. Pirates liked to get in, hit hard before their victims knew what was happening, then make off back to their ships with all the plunder and meat they could carry. The last desire any pirate crew had was to go up against a marshaled force who was prepared and ready to fight them.

Nearing what seemed like the pivotal point of the battle, some mad lad amongst Sombra's ranks had the notion to take a detachment of mages and conjure a tornado, wherein the weapons from fallen friends and foes were swept up in a deadly funnel of swirling steel. Marksmen sought the highest ground they could acquire, bent their crossbows toward the sky, and waited. A company of four mages flanked the tornado, two in front, two in back, the better to maintain control over the voracious twister so as to avoid friendly casualties. Together they scoured the roads and alleyways of their foes, who were in full retreat from the ravenous blender Sombra's mages had created. Those who were pulled into it were shredded into gory strips of confetti. When scores of terrified pirates took to the sky to flee the mages' wrath, the archers who had positioned themselves amongst the towers and thatched roofs of the town feathered them down with wooden shafts. Their screams pealed throughout the sky as corpses fell to the earth like a fleshy rain.

When the mages' reserves of magic were finally nearing their capacity, they saw no other choice but to send their gory funnel of destruction into the nearby hills to be safely detonated before they could lose their control over it. From down in the hamlet Sombra had a splendid view of the broken weaponry and splashes of gore that were sent hurling in every direction when the tornado was dispelled, painting the frozen hummocks in a red paste—whereupon the carrion eaters eagerly descended.

By this point The King was a spattered and tattered mess. Another spasm had taken him as he was giving chase to a group of retreating pirates through a narrow alleyway, and this time it was severe enough to take him off his hooves. His black vomit came up thicker and oilier than before, and it ablated the snow around him in plumes of white steam. He didn't know how long he spent lying sick and bloody in the snow. It might have been seconds, it might have been hours. Finally, when King Sombra felt some of his strength returning, he could sense a presence approaching. He lifted his head and blinked the bleariness from his eyes to behold a lavender form approaching him from down the alleyway.

"You're wounded," a voice informed him.

"Your powers of perception are—" The King stopped to hawk and spit up the lingering dregs of gunk obstructing his throat. "—quite impressive," he finished, as he laboriously pushed himself up to his hooves. His body was beginning to give out, he could feel it. He felt not his age, and for the first time in his life the weight of his armor hindered him. "What do you here, Princess?"

"I've been helping the townsfolk get to sanctuary while you've been..." Twilight beheld the ravaged king in amazement as he rose like a wounded leviathan, pincushioned with quarrels and covered from hackle to hoof in deep wounds. His black hair was slick with gore and matted to his face, and at one point the massive harpoon wound in his flank had opened itself back up. The area in which he had been lying was a half melted puddle of black and red slush. "S-shit," The Princess stammered as her astonished gaze moved over his mangled body.

"Shit," Sombra agreed weakly.

"The second wave will be here by noon, Sombra," Twilight said. "What will you do?"

"The remainders of the three thousand," Sombra said with a grimace. "I will meet them in open combat, as I did with their vanguard. What of you?"

"I can't just sit in the throne room and twiddle my hooves, Sombra. Not when I know I can help."

"I thought you a pacifist."

"I'm not a killer Sombra, but I'll do whatever I have to if the alternative is just sitting back and watching as others are being killed. It's a sin to simply stand by and watch such carnage unfold when one has the power to help."

The King winced at a fresh spasm of pain cutting through his chest. He spit out another glob of black and replied, "You're a far cry from that hypocritical friend of yours. I should have tried to recruit you instead."

"Starlight," Twilight said wistfully. "Sunset and I have left the palace to offer aid and relief. Right now Moondancer is gathering the terrified civilians who have barricaded themselves in their homes and escorting them and their families to the palace. After that, we're going to go look for Starlight."

"Look for her?" Sombra echoed. "She's dead, most like."

"She's not!" Twilight punctuated her denial with a stubborn stamp of her hoof. "The pirates didn't kill her, Sombra. She was taken back to their camp. Weren't you in the throne room when your wife was interrogating that pirate?"

Sombra could only remember as far back as waking to his wife and her friends arguing heatedly amongst each other. "Why did they take her?" he asked, more of out of curiosity than concern.

Twilight rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You really were dead to the world while all that was going on, weren't you?"

"More than you realize," Sombra said dryly, remembering the pale image of the ferrypony beckoning to him. Or was that all a hallucination? He would know soon enough, he supposed.

"The pirates foalnapped Starlight Glimmer. They targeted her specifically, because they thought you and she were lovers. Their captain has a vendetta to settle with you."

Bewilderment spread across The King's face, but before he could voice his bemusement another seizure took him. Worse than the last one, The King fell to the ground clutching his chest. The black he spat up now was flecked with viscus chunks, and the veins that spiderwebbed about his wounds were beginning to expand. Not just the one in his chest, but all over. Everywhere where an envenomed tip had pierced his flesh the veins were darkening.

Twilight started as he crumpled at her hooves. Some of the shafts protruding from his body furrowed the snow before they broke off, while others were driven deeper into his body by the force of his own weight. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Sombra clutched at his chest, every haggard breath a desperate gasp.

"Medic!" Twilight shouted. "I need a medic over here, now!"

Sombra's eyelids were beginning to grow heavy, and all around him there were voices approaching from up and down the alleyway.

"Twilight, is that you? What's going on?"

"Sunset, where have you been!"

"I was helping the mages melt snow for the structure fires, what's got you all—Apollo father of Celestia, what happened to Sombra! Looks like he's been put through a shredder."

A torrent of black, foul-smelling ooze projected from The King's maw. His body began to convulse uncontrollably. A deep and terrible death rattle like nothing any beast on earth would be able to imitate came gurgling from his throat.

An exclamation of surprise broke from Sunset's lips as she leapt back to avoid getting any of the black sludge on her hooves. "Twilight, save your breath," she said not unkindly. "He's beyond first aid now."

"We can't allow him to die just yet, we still need..."

Her voice was beginning to distort as lucidity abandoned the dying king. Near or far, it made no matter, everything sounded distant and muddled in his ears. Dark and otherworldly sounds seemed to swim all about him, like the melancholy peal of a dirge. And finally, the weight of his eyelids became too much to bear.

The Eye of The Storm

The corsairs were in full retreat, yet no one could feel so inclined as to celebrate. The pirates who had abandoned the fight would return in greater numbers than ever before, while the dead and dying citizenry scattered throughout the streets of the New Haven capital outnumbered the living; the eerie calm now creeping over the New Haven hamlet was not a signifier of victory, it was merely the eye of the storm.

It wasn't long before The Princess's cries for help caught the attention of a squad of passing militiamen, who then fanned out into the streets in search for a medic or physician. The numbers of the wounded were vast, Twilight knew, but The King was their priority. Without him his people would lose their morale. As much as it pained The Princess to admit it, Sombra had to live, if only for just a little while longer, for the death of their king would spell the death of hope itself.

Beads of sweat trickled down the back of Twilight's neck as she and her companions worked tirelessly to revive him. "Again!" she said, and Sunset and Moondancer obeyed. Their horns pulsed as a scintillating charge of rippling crackles filled the air, and they sent such a jolt of magic through the incapacitated king's body his back arched in a near ninety degree angle.

A shuddering gasp finally burst forth from between The King's lips. Weak and spastic his breaths came, but shallow breaths were better than no breaths.

"Finally," Moondancer exulted with a wipe of her brow, the lenses of her spectacles opaque from her exertions.

"Don't celebrate just yet," Sunset Shimmer advised.

A lull of rapt silence fell over them, as if at any moment they expected The King's eyes to blaze open with renewed vigor ... Alas, the hope was a vanity. His ravaged form affected lacerations and deep punctures that would have levied a mortal conclusion upon a lesser being. Beneath his dermas, they could see the bad blood spreading throughout his circulatory system like an unkempt lichen left to encroach over a rural structure neglected to ruin. By all the laws of nature and science he should have already been dead.

"Okay," said Sunset Shimmer, breaking the silence, "so, we got him breathing again. How do we get him vertical?"

Twilight studied the ruin that was The King's haggard form. He looked like a mangled ragdoll that had seen better days. His breastplate rose and fell sporadically with the arrhythmic cadence of his shallow breaths, but he wasn't opening his eyes. "I'm not so sure we can," Twilight said, then bent her hoof to his carotid artery.

Sunset moved closer. "How's his pulse?"

"Weak," Twilight replied grimly. "Almost undetectable."

"Maybe give him another jolt?" ventured Moondancer.

"We just literally jumpstarted his heart," disagreed Sunset Shimmer. "Another shock could stop it again."

"Well, what else can we do?" Moondancer said, sardonic. "Chest compressions, Mouth-to-mouth—make him turn his head and cough?"

"The King, he's just where they said he'd be. This way, doc!"

They directed their attention toward the source of the exclamation. A Pegasus clad in a tattered crimson cloak and heavy steel helm was galloping toward them from the ingress of the alleyway. A bronze-colored earth pony trailed closely behind him. A grey canvas saddlebag emblazoned with a red cross bobbed at his flank.

A medic, finally! Twilight thought, stepping back so as to give them all the room they may have required.

The bronze Earthpony slid to The King's side, where The Princess had just been standing. He placed his saddlebag on the ground, then worked to undo the leather straps securing its canvas flap.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle, I presume," the guard in the medic's company began. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure. This one has the honor of being Sgt. Biggs of his majesty's royal guard." He swept a hoof toward the medic. "This is Corporal Wedge, combat medic, former Petty Officer corpsman of the Lunar Navy, with honors."

"You can drop the chivalry," Twilight said, in a way that was more of a request than a command. "This is hardly the time for titles and formalities."

"As you say, Prince—er ... Miss Twilight," the guard amended, obediently keeping his etiquette as casual as he dared.

"Can anybody tell me how long it's been since he's lost consciousness?" The medic quarried, probing The King's sides with the diaphragm of a stethoscope. "Be accurate now, every second counts."

Twilight had to think. She hadn't exactly been keeping a stopwatch handy from the moment Sombra became formally acquainted with the ground. "It's been about eight or so minutes," she approximated.

"Eight minutes, damn!" the medic cursed.

"Is that really so long a time?" boasted the red cloak. "I could run down to the palace kitchens for a sweet roll and be back at my post in half that."

The medic eyed him irritably. "I haven't the slightest doubt that you are quite the savant when it comes to pastry-based reconnaissance, but eight minutes might as well be an eternity to someone who is critically wounded." His expression became grim when he looked down at his king sprawled before him. "Hades take me," he despaired, "I've seen corpses in better condition."

"Gods know there's plenty of them out on the road," said the red cloak, removing his helm to wipe a thick mat of sweaty brown locks out of his face. Then he turned his head, and seemed to notice Sunset Shimmer for the first time, his weary countenance of exhausted pessimism yielding to a demeanor of utter incredulity, as if his mind took issue in validating the information his eyes were registering. "You!"

Twilight Sparkle and Moondancer looked at Sunset Shimmer, the object of the guard's befuddlement.

Sunset Shimmer fluttered her flummoxed eyelashes before she parroted the sentry's sentiment back at him. "Me?" said she, ponderously pointing to herself. "What about me?"

"You're ..." The guard's incredulous gaze then shifted to Moondancer. "Both of you. You're—"

"I need your help over here, Biggs," said the medic. "You can go tail chasing on your own time."

The sentry flushed. "That's not what I was—"

"Just get over here."

The guard gave Sunset Shimmer and Moondancer parting looks before turning to assist the medic, as if to reassure himself of their presence.

"Well, that just happened," commented Moondancer.

Twilight Sparkle noted the guard's odd behavior with an eyebrow cocked in bemusement. "What's his issue?"

"I haven't the slightest clue," Sunset insisted, looking every bit as perplexed as Twilight was.

Twilight then looked to Moondancer in the hopes that perhaps she could provide an explanation. A frown and a shrug was all she had to offer.

"That's definitely a problem," the medic could be heard saying to his companion.

"What's the problem, doctor?" inquired Twilight.

"Corpsman," the earth pony corrected her as he lowered the earbuds of his stethoscope to his neck. He then drew out a jar from his bag, which was filled with some sort of thick, tarry confection. "And the problem is with his respiratory expansions. They're being inhibited by an external force; he'll asphyxiate at this rate." A putridly cloying smell, not unlike the aroma of fermenting figs, filled the air when the corpsman wrenched the cap off the jar with an audible pop. "These shafts need to be removed. Then we need to turn him over so we can relieve him of his plate. In his state, he's too weak to bear its weight."

"Would removing a scrap of armor really make that much of a difference?" inquired Moondancer skeptically.

"When that 'scrap of armor' weighs somewhere within the ballpark of sixty stone? Yes."

"Sixty stone?" Moondancer balked. "That's impossible. Forget mere practicality issues, armor that heavy would crush its wearer."

The Corpsman didn't bother to argue with her. Time, at that point, was everyone's enemy. He along with the palace guard took to the task of breaking off the fletched ends of the shafts feathering The King's sides, then, with practiced hooves, the earthpony angled the barbed tips so that he could push them through the soft tissue, rather than crudely tear them out. The foul-smelling tar in the jar turned out to be a potent sealing salve which staunched the bleeding of the weeping apertures left from the removal of the oaken missiles.

"Okay, kid," said the corpsman, "help me turn him over." It was a great effort, like rolling a boulder uphill, but once the corpsman, with the help of his companion, had Sombra turned over on his side, they undid the fastening of his mantle and unthreaded the leather straps of his chest piece from their clasps. When the breast plate fell away to embed itself deep into the snow, like an iron coffin interred into the frozen earth, The King's chest expanded broadly as he quaffed in a deep gasp of air. Some of the color even began to return to his face.

"Huh," thought Moondancer, giving the breastplate embedded in the snow a dumbfounded look. "His armor really was hindering his breathing?" She was unable to lift it. Even when clamping the leather straps between her teeth and heaving backward with all her weight, the laden object remained absolutely recalcitrant in giving up so much as an inch of yield. She spat out the leather strap with an oath of exasperation. "Sixty stone," she reflected, this time a little less skeptically. "Gods be good, Sombra, what are you that you can just go frolicking about in this thing like it's nothing more than a tweed waistcoat?"

The corpsman was now tugging at the straps securing The King's gauntlet to his foreleg. "Help me get these off too," he said to the guard. "The positioning of his body will be easier once we've removed all this heavy armor. Then I'll want to take a look at that flank. I don't know what he did to it, but that exposed sinew needs to be covered. It would be better to plaster it, but bandages and hemostatic ointment will have to do for now."

"Right, doc."

"Corpsman," corrected the corpsman.

The gauntlets slid away from The King's arms when the guard and the corpsman had their straps unthreaded, and that was when Twilight Sparkle beheld The King's body bared for the first time. He was more mammoth than stallion, she realized, beholding him in all his naked glory. Even as he lay sick and dying he was an imposing specimen to behold, with iron thews rippling along the length of his mighty arms. His exposed chest was larger than a keg, and from shoulder to shoulder he measured roughly the width of a stagecoach. There had been a time when Twilight had assumed The King's armor was beaten and shaped in a way so as to give the illusion that he was larger and more imposing than he actually was. She could not have been more wrong.

Sunset Shimmer was considering Sombra's monstrous chest piece, that ungodly sixty stone hunk of iron embossed within the concavity its great weight had impressed into the earth. "Girls?" she said, "either one of you getting the feeling that Sombra went easy on us when we fought him?"

"We underestimated him was all," Twilight said matter-of-factly.

Moondancer appraised Sombra's now-exposed physique. Somehow he seemed larger without his armor than he did when he was wearing it. An illusory notion, mayhap, a deception of depth suggested by his dark fur contrasting with the stark whiteness of the snow. Though the way his biceps bulged like protruding knobs from the gnarled routes of a giant oak seemed to curtail the notion somewhat. "I was but a stock of straw in this monster's grasp," she shuddered. "He could have snapped me in two if he wanted to."

"He was trying to use you as a bargaining chip," Twilight replied. "Given the situation he was in, to just kill you would have been akin to a soldier casting aside his shield amidst a volley of arrows."

"Sunset Shimmer may be onto something with the whole Sombra going easy on us thing," Moondancer was forced to admit. "I don't remember much of what happened after he got a hold of me. All I know is that he gave us beds instead of coffins."

Twilight rolled her eyes at that. "You might as well throw out any prospect of Sombra even comprehending the definition of the word mercy, if that's what you're getting at. What's kept us alive all this time was his fear of Celestia's retribution, and nothing more."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," interjected the guard in the red cloak.

Twilight noticed him casting a contemptuous gaze in her direction from over his shoulder. "You wouldn't be so sure of what?" she prompted.

The guard turned to face her and said, "I was down in the catacombs this morning. I was one of the guards Sombra set at the door of the apothecary's lab, to watch over you three whilst you slept."

"Your point?" replied Twilight, not sure where he was going with this.

The red cloak pointed at Sunset Shimmer. "You," he said, "Sombra ordered me to snuff you this very morning."

Sunset Shimmer's irises shrunk to pinpricks. "He what?"

The guard's tone was somber as he recollected the encounter. "I was standing over you as you slept, poised, dagger in hoof, its tip resting between your ribs. You were one thrust away from naught." He grimaced. "But I just couldn't do it. 'I'd kill for you, sire. I'd even die for you,' I said to Sombra. 'But to butcher a defenseless girl in her sleep. There's no honor in it.' Well, The King wasn't at all happy about that. At that point, I thought he was going to burnish the apothecary's walls with my brains for defying him, but neigh, he ordered me away instead, deciding upon carrying out the deed himself."

Twilight upturned her muzzle at him in a rather skeptical manner. "Then why are we all still alive?"

"Who knows?" answered the guard. "Perhaps my words reached him. Perhaps he could not go against his queen's pleas to spare you."

Twilight rolled her eyes. "More like Celestia wouldn't allow—"

"Oh, have done with that already!" The guard bulled over her. "You really are insufferable, you know that? The order to kill your friends might as well have been handed down to me from Princess Celestia herself."

Twilight, Sunset Shimmer, and Moondancer looked at him, not understanding, not comprehending. A frigid breeze whispered through the eaves of the surrounding structures. All over the town, amidst all the carnage the pirates had left behind, mares and children could be heard rending the skies asunder with their lamentations. A crier could be heard shouting for citizens to unbarricade their doors and get to the palace. Noncommissioned officers were giving orders to fortify defenses and get the wounded to sanctuary.

"Celestia," the guard elucidated, "sold your friends' lives to Sombra in order to guarantee the safety of yours, her precious protégé. He wanted to dispose himself of them, because he saw your combined powers as a threat." He looked back at The King, who lay unresponsive whilst the corpsman wrapped his wounded leg with an ointment-soaked bandage. "He's actually chosen to walk the path of mercy. Sombra can be quite the wildcard at times. Just when you got him figured out, he'll do things that would surprise even—"

"Liar!" Twilight exploded.

The Princess's paroxysm seemed to catch the stallion off guard. "I'm not lying!" he insisted. "I'm telling you, I was there. He was going to revive you after doing away with your friends, then after you've been awakened, Sombra was going to escort you to The Crystal Empire himself, to relinquish his custody over you to Celestia. I heard them working out the conditions for your safe return with my own two ears. 'Do with them as you must' I believe were her exact words during the negotiations."

"And to what end would she allow Sombra such a liberty?" Twilight demanded.

"As I've said, for your safe return. She was eager to have you back; she had grown weary of worrying about you."

Twilight's expression wasn't far removed from one who was chewing something they just couldn't bring themselves to swallow.

Moondancer's voice quivered as she spoke. "Could ... Could this really be true?"

"Of course it's not!" Twilight's voice was a whip, shrill, chiding, as if to admonish her for even considering the notion.

The red cloak did not falter. "You can ask Queen Fluttershy if you don't believe me. In fact, she fought for your friends harder than Celestia ever did. She mugged a guard and cut him with his own dagger before threatening Sombra with it, her own king and husband. She even vowed to kill herself should he dare hurt either of you."

Sunset Shimmer, the maverick who had been cast aside by Celestia once before for her iconoclastic ways, looked as if she was a little more willing to believe the information than the other two were. "Twilight," she said negotiably, "whatever Celestia may or may not have done is irrelevant to—"

"No!" Twilight cut her off, refusing to tolerate any dissent on the matter. "Now we know for a fact he's lying. First, Sombra plays the pacifist with us, then Celestia tries to have you two killed? And now—and now—Fluttershy ... Fluttershy ... is assaulting guards, brandishing blades and spewing threats?" Then she slashed the air with her hoof as she vehemently declared, "Either the world has gone completely and utterly mad or these are the most blatant lies anybody has ever tried to sell me!"

"Call me a liar all you want, I know what I—" The guard yelped when a shaft of searing light grazed his cheek, leaving in it's wake a singed furrow of smoldering whiskers.

Twilight stood with her hooves spread apart in the snow, her head down, a wisp of smoke coiling lazily from the tip of her horn. "Not. Another. Word," she growled through a row of clinched teeth.

Sunset Shimmer and Moondancer traded irresolute expressions with each other, and that was when a sound poisoned the air. It was a grotesque snarling, guttural, growling, gasping choke of a sound—thick and horrible and contemptuous. Sombra's maw was open and spurting dark fluid. His eyes were weakly narrowed, yet they positively brimmed with dark amusement.

Twilight then realized what that horrible sound was. The King was laughing at her. "Just die already!"

"In time," The King rasped in morbid amusement.

"I'd spit on you if you were even worth the saliva," Twilight sneered.

"Your friends' worth to Celestia remains even less," Sombra quipped.

Twilight began to charge a second shot, her horn flickering. "It's about time I finished what you started six moons past, deceiver."

The red cloak who came in the company of the corpsman fumbled with his helm before throwing himself in the projectile's path. "You caught me by surprise with the first one," he challenged her. "Loose another and I won't pretend it was an accident."

"The only one who's been deceived is you," Sombra taunted, laughing that horrible, wet, sputtering laugh of his again. "The deification of your princess will be your downfall. However, if you need something to worship, it might as well be me. At least I'm not a hypocrite."

The light at the tip of Twilight's horn intensified as she dressed the guard down with an unblinking glare. "You do realize I could just shoot through you?"

The guard narrowed his eyes, utterly bereft of fear or hesitation. "You better hope it kills me."

"Stand down, sergeant," came Sombra's command.

Biggs turned his helmed head to look back at him. "Sire?"

"Your wife has a little one on the way, does she not? Don't throw your life away pointlessly; I'm already dead, you fool. At this point she'd be doing me a favor."

A little one? Suddenly Twilight felt foolish. She withdrew the spell.

"I can't just shirk my duties, sire," The guard insisted. "I'm sworn to protect you!"

"That's twice you've defied me today, damn you," Sombra snarled. "Stand down, or I'll have the order handed down to The Queen to have you flogged and demoted after all of this."

The guard turned to face Twilight, looking like a whipped dog. "Yes, sire," he sullenly obeyed, then stepped off to the side with his gaze downturned.

"That's twice you've defied him?" Twilight mused.

The guard did not bother to make eye contact as he spoke. "The apothecary's lab," he elaborated, just vague enough in order to spare himself the redundancy of repeating the story. "I'm not going to try to convince you of anything. Just believe what you want."

"The lab," Twilight echoed. Could it really be true?

Suddenly, a blast could be heard. It echoed through the sky, reverberated through the town, long and low and sonorous.

Twilight, startled from her thoughts, looked toward the debouchment where the alley opened into the streets. Soldiers, guards, militia, and even ordinary citizens with rusted pot helms and crude makeshift clubs were running hither and tither with shouts of "Formations!" and "To arms!"

Twilight felt a knot forming in her stomach. "What's happening?"

"A warhorn," Sombra announced, struggling to get up. "They're here."

"You're going to open your wounds!" the corpsman exclaimed as he put up a feeble effort to restrain him. "My king, stay down. I'll get you a litter so we can wheel you back to the palace."

"Bugger that." Sombra struck him with the back of his hoof, sending him reeling back into a bank of snow that had broken off from the thatched roof above them.

The redcloak rushed to help his king to his hooves while the medic was pulling his battered face from the snow. He spat out a gob of blood before he spoke. "Sire," he spluttered, "you'll exacerbate your injuries."

"You're going to keep fighting," Twilight Sparkle said. It wasn't a question.

"Aye," was Sombra's monosyllabic response. Blood was beginning to bead around the wounds the medic had just salved. Even with the bandages binding his rent flank, the hot air wafted off the hideous wound in blistering tendrils of vapor that distorted the air around it.

"You can't fight like that," Sunset Shimmer observed.

Sombra ignored her as he pushed passed them, his haunting visage morose with agony as he shambled at an uneven gate.

"You're going to die, you know that?" Twilight shouted after him. Even as she was saying it she couldn't have said what possessed her to do so.

"I'm dead no matter what I do," Sombra said, pressing on. "At least if I die this way, it will make for a better song."

"Damnit!" Twilight, irritated by the mere flippancy of his response, chased after him. "Come on, girls. I have an idea."

When the redcloak turned to notice them approaching he threw himself in their way to impede their path to him. "Hold," he challenged them. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Sombra!" Twilight shouted.

The King stopped, looked back at her, his expression grim with the finality of his decision to fight and die alongside his people.

"You can't fight like this," she said.

Sombra turned to continue along his way.

"Wait," Twilight pleaded. "Just listen to me!"

Sombra stopped, but this time he did not look back at her.

Satisfied that she still had his attention, she turned to the others. "Girls," she began, "I'll require your magic. All of it. Every single ounce you can muster."

Moondancer looked anxious. "We're going to have to fight, aren't we?"

"No," replied Twilight. "Not us. Not directly, anyway."

"We're going to fill a support roll?" surmised Sunset Shimmer, anticipating the essence of Twilight's plan.

"Percisely," Twilight said. "We need to form a daisy chain with me as the central catalyst. From there I'll funnel my arcana into Sombra and keep him hale to the best of my abilities. Don't give all your magic to me at once, mind you. We don't know how long this battle is going to last. Just keep feeding it to me in a steady stream."

"That won't be necessary," Sombra declined. "I'd much rather your return to the palace so you can protect Fluttershy."

"The enemy's chances of making it to your wife so she'd even need our protection will slim down exponentially if we can keep you and your soldiers in the fight," Twilight objected. "But, you have my word, if you should fall, we'll fall back to the palace and mount up a defense."

Sombra made no bother to reply, though he must have seen the logic in her reasoning. He finally turned around and he regarded the three of them with a suspicious frown on his paling face. "Why would you do this for me?"

"Oh, trust me," Twilight said with a sardonic smile, "you're the last one I'm doing this for."

The Princess of friendship's cruel, brusque, brash honesty made Sombra smile. It was an impish, devilish, diabolical smirk of a smile. Like something even the foulest of dastardly evil doers would have to practice in the mirror to get just right. "Well, ladies," he rasped, "I'm ready to dance when you are."

"Sunset?" said Twilight, "how much do you have?"

"Enough," she replied. "I used some magic when I was helping out around town, but I still have plenty to spare."

"Moondancer?"

"Fully stocked."

"Good," concluded The Princess. "I'm ready when you two are. Remember: slow, steady streams."

Sombra watched them through cold, tired eyes as the three created a chain of cascading phantom ribbons, each corresponding to the colors of their magical signatures. Moondancer's was a glistening red. Sunset Shimmer's was an affair of molten orange and yellow. And finally the link Twilight created between her and Sombra was a star-speckled midnight blue.

Sombra's response to the quickening was a positive one, as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. An aura began to shimmer around him as he thrust out his bosom. He whipped his tail and knickered, spry as a yearling, paying no attention to the hurts that had been hindering him only moments ago.

"Magnificent, sire!" exclaimed the redcloak. "Let's get your armor—"

"No time," Sombra said, and within an iota of an instant he was out of the alley, a black phantom in motion.

"Wait, you moron!" Twilight shouted after him. "You'll sever the tether if you move too far from us!"

"How can anything so big move so damn fast!" huffed Sunset, falling in beside her.

"Fast?" Twilight said as they rounded the corner at the alleyway's exit. "He was 'fast' when he was wearing his armor. Gods know how—" And just then they came to an abrupt halt. They could see Sombra where he stood, poised, his tail whipping around eagerly in his blood lust as his steely gaze zeroed hotly into the distance.

They strained their senses toward the direction in which he was looking, and could see that the horizon was bristling with avian figures. The griffons were nearly a mile out and fast approaching, scores of them, hundreds of them, thousands of them.

"I didn't think there'd be that many," Moondancer said under her breath.

Twilight looked feverishly at the paltry numbers martialed about her. There wouldn't be enough of them to muster a successful defense. Not nearly enough. Not even by half. "How can there be so many of them?" she thought out loud, but nobody seemed too keen to give answer.

"There can't be that many pirates ... In the world," Sunset Shimmer despaired.

"There can and there are," Sombra replied.

"So it would seem," Twilight said. "And how do you suppose we stop them with only a hoof full of infantry?"

Sombra whipped his tail once more, exuberant with the suffusion of Twilight and her friends' magic coursing through his veins. "By killing them," he stated matter-of-factly, "how else?"

Meanwhile...

Drip. Drip. Drip, pattered the beads of crimson as they dribbled into the bucket beneath her—falling, then bursting, like the overripe red oranges of autumn's bounty that had been forsaken by the harvest. Drip. Drip. Drip. It continued, from the countless lacerations crisscrossing her face and body, some of which were so deep bits of brown bone could be seen peaking out from between the weeping rents in her sinew. Abandoned by her senses, however, she could not feel the countless lashes and slashes striping her flesh. Even the raw, red ruin at the end of her maimed arm felt cold and bereft of all sensation. After Betha had dismembered her, she seared the bloody stump with a red hot brand and bound it in a rough cloth to staunch the bleeding, but now a foul-smelling secretion was beginning to ooze from the crude, makeshift bandages. She could not even feel the cold, cruel bite of the steel hook from which she was suspended. Cold, dying and trembling, rasping breaths and an occasional flutter of her eyelids were the only signifiers betraying that she still clung to some dwindling modicum of life, but even that little bit of what she had left was quickly fleeting, dropping, dribbling away, her life's blood puddling into the bucket beneath her like sanguine tears. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The darkness in the tent was suddenly driven before the stark white light of the outside world when the flaps of the makeshift butchery parted, and in walked a group of silhouettes. Their features were obscured, eclipsed by the blinding daylight radiating from the ingress behind them. Starlight Glimmer didn't know or care who it was. She would probably be terrified of these unknown invaders if she still had the sense to be, would perhaps beg or blubber for mercy if she still had the strength to do so. Alas, she was capable of naught else but drooling and babbling incoherently. She had no more agency or control over her situation than that of a newborn babe. Or, to be more accurate, a calf—strung up and drained to be knackered.

The figures' voices sounded distant, echoey, even though they stood right before her. "Alive!" she thought one of them might have exclaimed. "Need emergency medi...." Starlight's eyes were very, very heavy. The things she was seeing and hearing as she clung to the fraying thread of her mortal coil played out like snippets of various film reels that had been cut and spliced together, half-lucid scenes between the gaps of darkness viewed through a blurry lens. When she regained consciousness she felt something tugging at the hook in her back. When she drifted away only to become partially sapient once more she was being spread out on the rough wooden table at the center of the butcher's tent.

"We're going to operate right here?" one voice was saying. It was distinctly male. "Doc, she needs a medivac. This is hardly a sterile environment."

"There's no time," a female voice argued. "Her chances of survival are already slim to nil."

"I'll prep the anesthesia, then."

"She's already going into shock from the blood loss; she won't need it."

"Hemorrhagic shock?" exclaimed the male voice. "Doc, her prognosis—"

"—is bad, I know. If she dies, she dies, but may Celestia herself damn me if I don't do everything I can to stop that from happening. Now, lets get a clamp on this vein. And tie off that stump, would you? Once we get her stabilized we'll have to amputate about four inches above the sever point, before the flesh begins to necrotize. Look at her, poor thing, they didn't even cauterize her properly. She's bleeding through her bandages."

Starlight was losing the tenuous grasp she had on her conciseness. Just as her vision was darkening she managed to catch a glint of a broach pinned to the white coat of the mare looking down at her ... Funny ... It looked just like the golden sun from Celestia's coat of arms.

"I don't know if you can hear me," said the mare, "but I can't promise you that you're going to pull through. What I can promise you, however, is that I'm going to do my very best to make sure you do." That was when Starlight felt a hoof caress her cheek. It was gentle, tender, warm. "I'll do everything for you that I can. All you have to do for me is stay alive, okay?"

Starlight was too weak to open her eyes, or even stay awake for much longer, but she was able to register the compassion and sincerity through the mare's touch. A single tear ran down her cheek as the shadows that had been held at bay by her sheer instinct to survive finally breeched the boarders of her consciousness, pulling, pulling, pulling her away, dragging her to the stygian void, that abyssal vacua of purgatory which straddled the line between life and death. The only question was, upon which side of the line would she be destined to fall?

The Deadliest Weapon of All

Author's Note

Wow... It's certainly been a while, hasn't it? Lot's o' shit been happening to me in my personal life, but I'm not going to sit here and write a five hundred page memoir about it. The next chapter will be posted much sooner than this one was, now that things for me have finally reached some modicum of stability. See you next time for the conclusion to the pirate arc: "The Battle for Newhaven."

The Deadliest Weapon of All

The vestiges of hope were fading as the magic mirror supplied naught but the queen’s own haggard image looking back at her. “Princess Celestia,” she pleaded for what seemed like the thousandth time, “please, if ever there was a time I needed you, it’s now!” And like so many times before, not so much as a ripple disturbed the smooth surface of the glass. “Celestia, please, this is my darkest hour. This could be my final hour; Newhaven needs your help!” Fluttershy’s frustration grew and grew with each failed attempt. She tried again, then again, and then she tried once more. The mirror’s final report was the countenance of a queen writhing madly in the throes of her frustration. “Damn you!” The oval plate of enchanted glass shattered as the silver frame in which it was recessed collided with the marble floor of the dais.

Nobody in the throne room seemed to notice, however. There were wounded to tend to, crying infants to be soothed, and newly made widows and widowers to be consoled—all far too engrossed in their own miseries to acknowledge hers. Even Violeta, who continued so dutifully to play her violin at the queen’s side, had the courtesy to pretend not to notice the queen’s unqueenly outburst.

Fluttershy sat there for a time with her head in her hooves, mooning down at all the broken shards of glass which lay dispersed in glinting fragments before the throne. She could see a part of herself in each piece. Funny, the mirror’s portrayal of her seemed more accurate, now that it was just as broken and useless as she was.

“My Queen,” Violeta trilled, deviating not from the flow of her mellifluous composition, “your messenger approaches.”

The queen lifted her gaze and noticed the winged scout she had sent out some time ago on reconnaissance ascending the marble steps. When he finally arrived at the apex of the dais, he respectfully doffed his helm and saluted with his head down and his right forehoof over his breast. If he noticed the broken pieces of mirror, he chose not to comment on it. “Your Grace.”

“Give me some good news,” Fluttershy pleaded.

He raised his head. “Just about all those seeking refuge have made it, Your Grace.” He indicated the huge double doors at the opposite end of the throne room. They had been spaced open to allow just enough of a berth to grant access to the queue of haggard, battered sanctuary seekers who were now shuffling their way inside. A few injured soldiers and militiamen were being carried in on litters or hobbled in on crutches. One who was being carried inside, a baker, by the look of his ripped apron, had been dealt a grievous headwound and was babbling incessantly about his cakes burning.

“Don’t mind that one,” commented the scout. “One o’ them sea brigands clubbed the poor guy over the head with his own rolling pin. A sock to the noggin with one o’ them things is like to jumble anyone’s—

—What of the dead?” Fluttershy bulled over him. The news of the baker being knocked senseless was indeed unfortunate, but she had more pressing concerns.

“Ma’am?”

“Were you able to tally them?” elaborated Fluttershy.

“Well …” stalled the scout, as if to consider how he should go about answering the question. “With all the fighting and chaos and whatnot, I don’t think anyone would have been able to count them all in any reasonable amount of time.”

“There were too many to count,” Fluttershy summarized, her heart growing heavy as she imagined the horror her streets had become. Much like the corridors and chambers of her once pristine palace, the dead festooning the halls, their blood and entrails soaking into the rushes. Fluttershy would be forever haunted by the horrors she was forced to bear witness to as Blueblood and his company escorted her to the throne room.

“The situation goes bad for us, your highness.”

“And my husband?” said the queen, presuming to hope.

“King Sombra …” The scout shook his head, a fierce admiration suddenly lending vigor to his dower demeanor.

At this the queen cocked her head to the side in bemusement. “Yes?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it. He’s been dealt wounds that would have killed anyone else a hundred times over, yet he stands, and he fights with the ferocity of a stallion possessed by Aeries himself. His prowess on the battlefield was so fearsome, he forced the enemy to retreat. Piss scared, the lot o’ them were!”

Fluttershy stroked her pregnant belly as she digested the news. A faint smile touched her lips. Such pride she felt. Her husband truly was a beast in equine flesh … But he’s my beast. “What’s my husband doing in preparation for their second strike?” she had to know, half expecting him to be thundering with an inspiring speech to his fighters, a passionately articulated rallying cry that would resonate throughout the ages. Something to be recorded and preserved by scholars and historians the world over.

“Last I saw, he was talking to those friends o’ yours. I would have asked him if he had any messages for you, but I figured the griffons would be bringing up their rearguard any moment, so I hightailed it back.”

“Friends?” Fluttershy scanned the floor to realize Moon Dancer, Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle were still absent. And just like that she was incensed again. How could she not have noticed earlier? “They promised me they’d be back before the fighting started again!”

“Perhaps they’re still offering aid?”

“Aid? Pray, offering aid to whom?” Fluttershy demanded.

“They’ve decided to stand and fight with the militia, mayhap?”

“They’re not soldiers; they’re not killers; they balk at the very thought of taking a life.”

“My Queen, they’ve been doing a world of good out there: putting out fires, offering aid to the wounded, escorting your citizens to the palace.”

“I understand that, but they might not know what to do when confronted with the reality that they must kill or be killed. Would you send a group of conscientious objectors to the frontlines of a hot combat zone?”

“There’s no such thing as a conscientious objector in the midst of battle, Your Grace,” replied the scout. “looking death in the face has the tendency to make hypocrites of even the staunchest of saints.”

Fluttershy rested back in her throne and massaged her temples. What about a fool who simply doesn’t know when to retreat?

“Your Grace,” the Pegasus volunteered, “would you have me bring them your order to return?”

“As if they’d listen?” Fluttershy smiled cynically at the futility of that notion. She waved her hoof dismissively. “No—no thank you, you’re dismissed. Go, find Winter Lilac, and ask how you can help her with the wounded.”

The Pegasus bowed his head before donning his helm, then turned to descend the dais.

“One last thing,” Fluttershy called out to his back.

The scout turned his head to acknowledge her from over his shoulder. “Ma’am?”

“You’ve seen what it’s like out there. What do you think our chances are?”

“Our chances?”

“Survival,” the queen said flatly.

“Our survival.” The queen’s scout chewed on that for a moment. “I suppose our chances depend on the whims of The Gods.”

The Gods, Fluttershy mused as she watched him leave. The Gods don’t exactly boast an efficacy for preserving those who would attempt to bring the northern realm to heel. Even Celestia must have weighed out the attrition she’d suffer in order to embark upon that venture.

There was a time when Fluttershy had given in to her husband’s cynical notions that Celestia was simply ineffectual and uncaring, but she was beginning to see how one such as Sombra, a stallion with nothing to lose and everything to gain, could jump to such a brash conclusion. There was no risk to consider for him. Only a burning rage and the drive of his ambition. Celestia, however, had the lives of those who fought and lived under her banner to consider. The peninsula suffered, but would extending that suffering to her own people be worth the cost? It was this conundrum The Queen of Newhaven reflected upon.

Her gaze went to Violeta, the beautiful gypsy bard whose music enthralled the hearts of all within attendance. She would still be a slave if her husband hadn’t rescued her. Neigh, she’d be dead. Sombra saved her from her fate when he dashed the walls of that horrible prison in which she and so many others had been consigned to starvation …

Action. Inaction. The former would lead to attrition on an incalculable scale. The latter perpetuated the suffering of the poor souls in a land which would remain forsaken as a result. Fluttershy eventually gave up on what the right answer could have been. Or even if there was one.

Her mind returned to the battle raging beyond her palace’s walls with a growing shadow of fear gnawing at her heart. The scenes of gruesome, bloody combat had taken a toll on her, and the prospect of what was to come shook her to her very core. A siege was a horror to look upon, but the true horrors were what came next should victory favor the besiegers. That's when the celebration would start; the triumphant, trampling over the bodies of the slain, the plundering and pillaging, the cruel revelry of rape and senseless slaughter of noncombatants attempting to flee. Fluttershy tried to force the premonition from her mind, but no matter what she did, all she could envision were those massive throne room doors being blasted into mulch before the enemy rushed in by the scores, an insurmountable wave of bloodthirsty brigands with the intoxicating fire of victory in their blood overwhelming her paltry company and … And her husband was putting his life on the line to ensure that did not come to pass.

Her king was out there, fighting, and making the task of killing him an absolute misery for his foes. That was the one thought that managed to bring her a small bit of grizzly satisfaction. If my husband can be strong, thought she, so can I. If this is the day we depart this world for the next, let us both go down fighting. Fluttershy steeled herself in the resolve that she wouldn’t go down cowering. She was no fighter, but she’d be damned if she didn’t take at least one of those filthy marauders down with her.

Fluttershy turned to Violeta, the ethnic beauty who serenaded her queen so sweetly as she brooded upon her throne. “Miss Viola?”

The bard stayed her bow, smiling. “My queen?”

“May I ask you a favor?”

“Of course, my love.”

“Your dagger, the one you used to put that miserable cur of a husband of yours out of your misery, would you lend it to me?”

“Certainly, Your Grace.” And, without further discussions or inquiries on the matter, she put her violin aside and removed the dagger she kept concealed beneath her skirt, the leather sheath slipping soundlessly from the lacy black garter which kept it girded to her outer thigh. She then presented it to her majesty hilt-first.

Fluttershy inspected it. “Such a small thing,” she mused, turning the blade over in her hoof, a menacing gleam riding along its edge as it caught the light.

“That’s what makes it so deadly,” commented Viola. “The deadliest weapon is not the morning star which stoves the cask, or the axe that cleaves through boiled leather, nor is it the sword which slashes between the joints in the mail.”

“Is that so?” Fluttershy said, inspecting the finely honed edge. “Then, what is?”

“The deadliest weapon of all,” Viola put forth, raising her hoof in a matter-of-fact sort of manner, “is that which remains undetected; it is the scentless poison in the wine, the quarrel loosed from the shadows—

—The dagger beneath the cloak,” Fluttershy finished for her, the sheath whispering coldly against the steel as she housed the blade. “Or mantle.”

Nightmare Through The Wedding Veil

Sombra's eyes illuminated the northern sky, incandescent stars wreathed in emerald flames casting a vengeful scowl down upon his former kingdom. His fury so far had been a terrible thing to behold: tornadoes red as bloodshed tore away at the structures of the city, consuming any within their reach. The sky turned black as pitch, and destructive green torrents of fire came raining down like the apocalyptic fury of a million emerald dragons. Earthquakes split the foundation throughout the city, causing cracks as intricate as spiderwebs to literally tear the land apart. Celestia's army, their morale all but destroyed, could do nothing to combat the evil force directly. If they were faced with an army to fight, an actual physical entity made of flesh and sinew which their weapons could cleave, and their magic could smite, perhaps the outcome would have turned out differently; there seemed to be no way of combating this dark tempest of carnage that Sombra had devised.

With seemingly no other options at her disposal, Celestia decided to confront the enemy directly. Bolstered by the company of the six elements, her sister, Cadence, the captain of her guard, and a score of his best sentries, she ascended to the highest point of the Castle, a lofty observatory perched upon a tower that reached to the sky like a crystalline lance thrust into the heavens. And it was there they stood, looking toward the North, toward those horrible phantom eyes looming over the horizon.

"Sombra!" Princess Celestia called out to him in a magically augmented voice. "I demand that you cease this madness!" The eyes shifted. The way he looked at her, that poison in his glare, it was enough to make her blood run cold. "What are you about, Sombra?" The princess attempted. "How is it that you've returned?" The eyes regarded her with cold silence.

Princess Twilight then stepped forward. "It's the Crystal Empire you want, isn't that right? What would you have to gain by destroying it?"

The eyes gleamed, and his voice rolled and rumbled throughout the sky in a deep growl, "It is not the Empire I wish to reclaim. It is merely an audience with the princess I seek. I trust that I have your attention?"

"All of this just for my attention?" Celestia shouted back in outrage. "My sister and I have thwarted you once, and we can do it again if you force our hoof."

"I'm a much more dangerous foe than last we battled, princess." The King pointed out. "To attack me would be folly."

"And what is it that makes you so dangerous?" Celestia inquired.

"I have nothing to lose."

"Nothing to lose?" Celestia and Twilight Sparkle exchanged bewildered looks. "Your former kingdom," the princess reminded him. "You'll destroy it if you keep this up."

"I no longer care for this paltry little kingdom. It's sullied, filthy; it no longer suits my desires. If you think I was strong before, let us do battle with our powers completely unbridled. Collateral damage will not be a concern for me as it was before. So many deaths, princess. So much destruction. Are you prepared for that burden?"

Celestia remained silent, unsure how to respond to the sudden revelation placed before her. It was a worst-case scenario she hadn't planned for. He's bluffing. He has to be.

The bout of indecisive silence seemed to enrage the King. "So be it!" His voice was a thunderous roar that shook the tower upon which they stood. "Steel yourself for battle! May the terrified eyes of every slain subject haunt you for eternity. Even if I am killed this day, I shall relish your misery from Tartarus." The giant set of green eyes dimmed from the sky, and the black King took shape from a shadow on the ground. He was a mere shade at first, black, oily, featureless, an apparition rising from the ground. But soon he solidified and his features took substance into the terrible thing Celestia remembered him as. He towered before them, clad in the polished steel of his gorget and gauntlets. A crown fashioned from dragon bone rested atop his brow, and his crimson cape flowed at his back, swirling and snapping at the wind with the color of bloodshed. He stood tall and formidable, a full head over even the lofty Celestia. His physical size, however, mattered little when compared to his magical prowess. Sombra was powerful, Celestia knew. It only took a moment for the princess to shudder over the potential massacre an all out war between them could cause for her to know what she had to do.

"Sombra, wait!" she exclaimed, extending a pleading hoof. "We... We don't have to do this! If you have demands, I'll hear them. I can't guarantee you anything, but I'll hear you out."

"You're in no position to dictate terms to me, sow." The black king's fangs gleamed as his lip curled in a sneer. "You shall give me what I want, or there will be Armageddon to pay. What say you?"

"I don't know what to say. What is it that you want, if it's not the Crystal Empire? We can talk about this. Let's just go somewhere else. Somewhere far away, with no distractions, where no one can disturb our quarter."

"A noble attempt, princess, but I am quite comfortable where I stand in this negotiation. I shan't allow you or your sister to lead me away from an entire city full of bargaining chips so that you can ambush me."

Celestia could feel a bead of sweat trickling down the back of her neck. This mad stallion of a fallen king was holding the entire Chrystal Empire hostage. But what was it that his black heart coveted so that he would forsake his former kingdom in its pursuit?

"He wants a what?" Twilight Sparkle's friends said in unison, utterly horrified by the demand. The walls around the castle parlor which housed their circular conference room echoed with their inquiry.

"A... A Bride... He wants a bride." Twilight's speech was shaky at best. It took all her strength to remain composed as she relayed the king's demands to them. "That monster... He wants a queen. One of us. He makes his selection on the morrow."

"That's insane!" Rainbow Dash pounded hard on the round table. "What does he need with a wife? Why does he want one of us?"

Twilight sat back in her heavily-cushioned seat and mused, "I'm guessing he's doing it in order to separate us. If even one element is missing, we become weak, incomplete. Maybe he's looking to exploit that."

"He could have simply demanded to ward one of us as a captive." Fluttershy shuddered. "Why... Why does he wish to..." She trailed off into silence, too horrified by the mere prospect of the dark king's demand to finish her sentence.

A profound silence fell over the room. It seemed as if Twilight Sparkle, with all her wisdom, was unable to solve the conundrum before her. Fluttershy had spoken true. If Sombra wished to weaken the elements of harmony, he need only take one of them captive. Why marriage?

"I won't have it!" Rarity shattered the silence. "I won't marry him, and I won't let any of you. He can't do this to us!"

Twilight Sparkle stared down at the round table with a defeated look in her eyes. "I don't see what choice we have. He'll do everything within his power to destroy the city if he doesn't get his way - even if it kills him. You've all seen what he's capable of. You saw those horrible tornadoes, felt the earthquakes. If all that wasn't his full power, I don't want to know what is."

"But we can beat him!" Rainbow Dash insisted. "We've done it before."

The princess hung her head and sighed. "We didn't defeat him. We got lucky, and Spike was able to stop him before he was able to gain full power. That was different from now; he's somehow acquired his full form. How he was able to completely regenerate himself from a pile of shattered crystals - I haven't the slightest clue."

The room fell silent again. It was rare that Pinkie Pie was at a loss for words, but she was. All of them were.

Sombra's demands had also included an ancient manse that resided in a particularly dangerous part of Equestria, a vast amount of land, and a team of servants, all which were bizarre demands for one such as the black king.

Twilight Sparkle, after adjourning the conference she had held with her friends, retired to her room to meditate over the strange requests. She refused to accept that an ambitious villain such as Sombra simply pursued the life of a count, complete with servants, territory, and a bride to share it all with. There had to be something behind all of this.

It was a long night for the princess of friendship. Several ancient tomes and dozens of dusty old scrolls littered her desk. Any historical account concerning king Sombra had been delivered to her room by her order for close examination. Perhaps they would bear clues to the King's intentions. She had been at it for hours, hunched over her desk, studying methodically the ancient texts and writs by the glow of her candle, but her research yielded no answers. She had thought that she had found a lead when she stumbled upon an old scroll concerning ancient Equestrian laws and traditions, which dictate that a king may only hold his royal title so long as he has a queen to rule along side him. But it was an old law, archaic and lost in time. There hadn't been need for kings in Equestria since Celestia united the land under her banner.

She sighed as she rolled the scroll, frustrated that her hours of research brought her no closer to an answer than when she first started. The princess found herself staring into the dancing flame of her candle, watching as the beads of melted wax pooled into the disk-shaped stopper of the brass holder. Owlowicious watched her silently from his perch mounted at the upper-right corner of the desk. After giving the situation more thought, Twilight Sparkle managed to find a small glimmer of hope amid the darkness of her uncertainty. She reached over and gave her pet owl a scratch between his ears. "Which one among us does that monster intend to take for his bride?" She asked Owlowicious, who replied with a "who?"

Twilight smiled at her inquisitive little friend. "I think we both know the answer." It was none other than the princess of friendship herself who made the most sense. She was the element of magic, and Celestia's most trusted protege; out of all her friends, it was she who posed the biggest threat to the king's ambitions - whatever they may be. It made sense to take her away so that she could be kept under lock and key. She also made for a valuable hostage. "A princess imprisoned by an evil king," Twilight Sparkle almost laughed at the bookish little cliche. It had brought her a bittersweet sense of relief in realizing this. Her friends would be safe, and she would be taken to Sombra's mansion, where she could figure out what he was up to, how it was that he was able to return, and formulate a plan to stop him once and for all.

After thinking, plotting, and pondering every possible outcome of the morrow's events, the princess finally decided to go to sleep, assuring herself that she could not be wrong about her predictions. She would need her rest, for tomorrow, when Sombra chose her to be his queen, it would mark the beginning of a dangerous game - a game that she didn't intend to lose.

The six elements of harmony stood abreast from one another in the center of the royal throne room. Celestia herself was present for the choosing. She stood next to Sombra, remorse and shame conspicuously eating away at her visage. Twilight tried to comfort her with a smile, but it had no effect.

"Go ahead, Sombra," Celestia said in a reluctant tone. "Make your choice before I change my mind about this."

"How unfortunate it would be for your subjects if you did," Sombra retorted as he began his slow strut down the line.

He stopped before Rarity, who quickly drew her eyes away from him in disgust. "Such beauty," Sombra commented approvingly. "But beauty fades so quickly. In a few decades time, you will be naught but a wilted flower. I'm looking for more than just a bed warmer, you understand." Rarity didn't speak, nor would she look up at him. Sombra shrugged and moved on.

Rainbow Dash refused to look away, defying the fear that she was so desperately trying to hide. For all the mare's habitual boasting and swaggering, she seemed to be disturbed by the prospect of the situation, now that it was glaring down at her. "What are you looking at?" she forced herself to say.

Sombra regarded her half-hearted bravado with bored contempt. "Nothing," he replied coldly.

"Really?" Rainbow Dash spat back in attempt to maintain her dignity. "I could have sworn you were looking at me."

"As I have said," the king replied before he moved on. "Nothing."

He stopped in front of Pinkie Pie. Her eyes were wide and shimmering through a veil of tears. "Please," she sobbed piteously. "You don't have to do this. Don't take any of my friends away from me." She sniffed and closed her eyes, her sorrow trailing damp dark lines down her cheeks.

"This one is just too sweet," Sombra critiqued, his cruel ears utterly deaf to the mare's plight.

Applejack was next to be inspected. She glowered in outrage at the floor. "Ah don't see how you can do this," she said, refusing to meet the eyes of the king who towered over her. "What the hay are ya gettin' out'a this?"

"A bride," was Sombra's curt reply.

"If yer gonna take one of us, then it might as well be me."

"Is that so?" Sombra quarried with amusement. "And why should I pick you?"

"Ah don't know what yer plannin' on doin' to whoever it is you get hitched to, but it might as well be me. Ah'll do whatever disgusting, sick, twisted thing your heart desires, if you just promise me that you'll leave mah friends and the Crystal Empire alone."

"Such selflessness," Sombra sneered in disapproval. "It will be the death of you one day."

"Yet, here Ah stand. Alive and well," Applejack spat back.

Sombra's eyes flickered with amusement. "Only because I've decided not to kill you, my dear. A decision that pert tongue of yours may yet change." Applejack glared sullenly at the ground. The King glowered over her, awaiting the southerner's retaliatory remark that would spell her end. When there wasn't one he moved on.

Twilight Sparkle stood, staunch and ready. "I accept," she said at once.

Sombra didn't even so much as look at her as he walked by. "Not you," he said in a tone that hinted knowledge of her plans. "The stink of treachery is all about you."

"Treachery?" Twilight Sparkle was taken aback. "I wouldn't!" she lied. "I couldn't!"

The King, not deigning to reply to the lavender mare's protests, stopped before Fluttershy. The sunflower mare cowered in his shadow, looking up at him with wide, blue eyes, her hair hanging in front of her face in disorganized strands as she trembled.

"Wait," Twilight went on. "What about me? You want me, don't you?"

Sombra's glare remained fixed upon the hapless mare. "You're beautiful," he said, reaching out to her with a hoof, but the mare shied away.

"P-please don't," she stammered.

Sombra's eyes were suddenly aglow wth intrigue. "What is your name?" The tremulous mare whispered an unintelligible response. Sombra blinked. "Your name. I requested your name." The mare's response was even quieter than the last, her voice no more than a timid little squeak.

"Stop looking at Fluttershy like that!" Twilight Sparkle demanded. "You're scaring her. It's me you want!"

"Fluttershy is it?" The King leered at her, red eyes entranced and glowing like embers among a bed of hot coals. "I've made my choice," he announced, with all the finality in the world. "I want this one."

Fluttershy began to weep. The ensuing objections from her friends were raucous. Fluttershy was the weakest of all of them. There was no way she'd be able to survive without them. "No, not Fluttershy!" Twilight Sparkle pleaded among the cacophony of outrage. "I'm the best option for you. Of all of us you could have picked, why her!"

"I want her," Sombra snarled. "That's more an explanation than you deserve."

"But I'm the princess of friendship!" Twilight insisted, overcome with dismay at the wildcard she had just been dealt. Her game that she had spent so many hours planning had ended before it could even begin. "I'm the most logical choice!"

"You are the princess of friendship," Sombra agreed. "But you are not my queen."

"We've tarried long enough!" Sombra's voice was a roar that echoed throughout the throne room. A halberd dropped by a startled guard could be heard twanging against the reflective polished floor with a strident report.

Fluttershy whimpered at the sound of her soon-to-be husband's outburst. Twilight Sparkle took her in her arms to calm her. "Just give us a few more minutes!" she shouted back. "We're saying goodbye to our best friend, here!" She brought her muzzle close to the quivering mare's ear and whispered, "You need to remain strong. He won't hurt you. He wouldn't dare. You're the only thing between him and all of us. Just... Just try not to make him angry until I can find a way to rescue you."

The words were encouraging at first, but the last statement made Fluttershy think that Twilight may have been second guessing the part about her husband not daring to hurt her. "I can't ask you to put yourselves in danger for my sake," she sobbed.

"Not another word of that! We will come for you. It's not a matter of if, it's when."

"I suppose you'll be wanting some kind of ceremony to see you two off?" Fluttershy heard Celestia say. She turned, and saw that the princess was conversing with her husband-to-be.

"No ceremony," he replied, his cold eyes locked in its perpetual grimace. "Just a kiss should suffice. I find weddings and other ceremonies of the like to be rather..." His muzzle wrinkled in disgust. "Mawkish."

"Very well," the princess acquiesced, mooning at her reflection in the polished floor beneath her.

Fluttershy shuddered upon hearing the exchange. She was going to have to kiss him... But that was the least of her worries, she quickly realized. Images of that red-eyed demon dragging her away to their marriage bed came to surface. The color drained from her face as gelid jolts of trepidation raced up and down her spine. "Th-this is a bad dream," she told herself. "It has to be."

Sombra then looked over at her, as if he could hear her every thought, feel her every emotion. His expression was a perpetual, unchanging mask of cruelty. He showed not pleasure, nor agitation in the mare's horror. "Well then," he finally said to her, "shall we?"

Fluttershy's reply was a squeak.

"I trust that the arrangements have been made," The king imparted to Celestia, who responded with a nod.

"The servants were dispatched yesterday. They should be at the manse by the time you arrive." The concern on her face deepened. "I hope their journey is a safe one. There is a reason why they call the area in which your manse resides 'Brigands' Hook.'"

"It is because your rule is weak that such dregs are free to rape and plunder as they please," Sombra pointed out with an icy contempt. The throne room echoed with the collective gasps of subjects who were shocked by the impertinent remark.

The princess looked as though she was about to say something in response, but her words died in her mouth.

"Now, then," Sombra said, looking to his bride-to-be, his heavy mailed hooves tramping in metallic cadence across the polished floor.

Fluttershy's heart raced as he approached. He was moving faster than she would have liked, his green eyes leering and intent. When he stopped before her, he looked down, sat back on his haunches, and placed his large mailed hooves upon her shoulders. It was no later than when he did this when Fluttershy tried to bolt. She didn't know where she would go, or how she would get away. She agreed to marrying him, but her primal, baser instincts of survival took charge of her actions, and they were screaming at her to get away, to escape from the shadow of the fanged predator and his iron grip... And iron it was, for when Fluttershy had turned to run, her efforts were only rewarded by being spun around and locked within the king's unyielding embrace. She shook as she felt her feet leaving the ground.

"Rejoice, my bride," Sombra said to her, low and deep, his hot breath like blurred tendrils of air wafting from a furnace. "It is not every day one born from common blood becomes royalty."

He then moved in for the kiss, but Fluttershy evaded, turning her head frantically toward her friends. Why weren't they helping her? This had to be a dream. A horrible dream. If this was really happening her friends would be rushing in to rescue her. They only stood by, staring helplessly with faces twisted in remorse and sympathy. She noticed the tear rolling down Twilight Sparkle's cheek. "Fluttershy," she muttered, turning her head away. "I'm so sorry." It had to be a dream. Twilight Sparkle always knew what to do. She always had a solution. She would never let this happen.

Fluttershy felt a massive hoof upon her cheek. It guided her muzzle back toward his. She could only sob as she was forced to bear witness to his beastly visage in such proximity. She had always regarded his demonic image that was depicted and described in the history books as nonsense, lavish embellishments to make his legacy seem all the more threatening, but now, looking up at him, she knew all the stories to be true; he was indeed a monster; the embodiment of every nightmare she could ever conceive made into flesh.

It's time to wake up... I'll wake up now... Please, someone wake me up... I don't know how much more of this I can stand...

The king calmly shushed her and wiped her tears away with his free hoof. "Enough of that," he whispered. He moved in closer, their lips meeting for the first time. Fluttershy could feel his free arm locking around her, enveloping her in the crimson folds of his royal cape. Her lamentations came audible in the form of a distressed, muffled moan as his mouth opened over hers, forcing her lips to part.

It was at that point that Fluttershy could feel just how real he was. His lips were warm. His breath was so hot that it felt like he was breathing flames into her. That was when a profound reckoning washed over her, a bleak understanding that was every bit as real and cruel as life and death itself: This was not a dream. She would not suddenly wake up safe and warm in her bed, her Angel bunny snuggled up to her. Her friends would not be coming to her rescue. And she was married. She was the bride of the most feared beast in Equestrian history. She was his now. She was the wife and queen of king Sombra.

Over Frozen Hills And Far Away

The newly-consecrated queen and her king awaited the carriage that would take them to their mansion, far away to the North Eastern peninsula of Equestria, beyond the reaches of Celestia's law, from which tales of savagery and brigandry had become infamous. It was not oft that travelers ventured through Brigand's Hook without some form of martial contingent accompanying their ranks, but Sombra hadn't felt the need for such rabble. Celestia had appointed an armed escort to accompany the servants that had left the day before, and she offered the same courtesy for Sombra. "Do not presume to insult my might by offering me protection behind your petty band of armed lapdogs," he said. "Any savage who dare attack their king will soon find themselves running in the other direction."

"My concern is for Fluttershy, not you!" the princess snapped, the king's consistent displays of impertinence visibly chipping away at her courtesy. "And stop calling yourself a king; a king without a kingdom is no true king."

Sombra's blasphemous quip came without missing a beat or pause for reconsideration. "And a whore who raises the sun is still a whore." The statement elected a chorus of horrified gasps. All within earshot were wide-eyed and open-mouthed like an audience of aghast guppies. Only a pig wallowing about in the nearby menagerie of the royal garden oinking and grunting dared make a sound, which inspired yet another invective from Fluttershy's new husband. "Hear that?" he asked. "Your consort beckons your counsel."

Celestia, flustered and bereft of a retort made her excuses and left the king and his bride and all her friends to await their transport. Once he was rid of her presence, Sombra resumed his brooding state and stood silently in front of the castle gates, staring coldly into the distance as he awaited the carriage. He sat there with an eerie stillness, a living statue carved from black marble, his coarse, ashen grey coat strikingly contrast to the freshly-fallen snow around him. There was something unsettling about that haunting stillness of his.

Fluttershy was deaf to her friends' meaningless words of comfort and promises of a hasty rescue. Why does he have to be so creepy? she thought, watching him, weighing whether or not he was more frightening in his brooding silence than when he was when he was snarling and spewing threats. There was still the unknown that brought many unsettling prospects; what was he going to do to her? Expectations of a thousand slow tortures, each more cruel than the last filled her mind. All the horrible things she had heard about him. She thought back to when she was a filly in school, learning of the dark king and all his evil deeds he had committed before Celestia stepped in to set things right: torture, mutilations, public executions, slavery. It was said that the wails of anguish and gnashing of teeth emanated day and night from his dungeons. Fluttershy could feel Rarity hugging her, but there was no warmth from the contact. Rainbow Dash said something - a promise to "whoop Sombra's butt" once they came for her, but Fluttershy garnered no assurance from the proclamation. The icy fingers of fear brushing down her spine was all she felt.

The transport finally arrived, massive and decadent like a pleasure barge on wheels. It was purple and ornate with intricate patterns of gilded steel that wrapped around it like a shimmering, flaxen spiderweb. The king considered it for a moment before opening it to inspect the interior. He then whirled around to beckon his bride entry with a languid dip of his head. "The time is thus that we away, my queen. We may yet arrive upon the break of twilight if conditions are fair," he announced in his archaic dialect, which almost made him sound like an actor in a play. His absurdly theatrical mannerisms and poetical way of speaking would have made Fluttershy giggle if it were anyone else conducting her in such a fashion.

With great effort, and courage she wasn't even aware that she possessed, she managed to pull herself up and begin the long walk to the carriage that would take her far away from everything she had ever loved. Her thoughts turned to her precious animals that resided back at her cottage. Who would take up the responsibility of caring for them? Surely not Rainbow Dash. The last time she tried they almost ate her alive. Her brother, perhaps?

"Fluttershy," Twilight Sparkle called out to her. "Wait. Hold on just a minute." The princess unfurled her wings and landed herself in Fluttershy's path, intercepting her. "Sombra," she pleaded, "listen to me. I'm begging you. Hear me out." The King's expression remained an impassive mask of perpetual irritation. "It's not too late to change your mind. I'll allow you to keep everything you have demanded so long as you change your mind about Fluttershy. I will gladly take her place, if you so badly require a queen. My terms aren't so unreasonable, are they?"

"What are you doing?" Fluttershy whispered. "I already agreed to go with him. I can't just let you--"

"Fluttershy, please," Twilight spoke over her. "I have one last ace up my sleeve."

Sombra regarded Twilight's plea with nothing more than dull contempt. "She became mine the moment I kissed her. By rights of Equestrian royal decree, she is now my queen. My decision has been made. "

"A decision you may come to regret," Twilight Sparkle replied icily. "The laws of politics have progressed over the course of the past thousand years, Sombra. There are no more kings, and a kiss does not a queen make. This is my final offer: I will be yours. I will cooperate with you. I promise to play my role as the dutiful bride and hold true to my promise that I will machinate no plots against you. I will swear total and absolute fealty to you, but, this offer also come with a warning. Take me, and this ordeal will be done with, but if you don't, you'll be forcing me to involve another player to this game. Fluttershy has a certain friend who will be wroth once the news of her being taken away has reached him. He's a madman, far older and more cunning than you by spades. His powers are practically limitless as to what he can do."

Discord, Fluttershy thought with a sudden glimmer of hope. If anypony, or, draconicus could rescue her, it would be him... But how would the message get out to him? Discord's visits have been less frequent as of late, and his nomadic nature made him difficult to track down; it wasn't like he had a PO box.

"This mad friend of yours intrigues me," Sombra replied, a narrow-eyed look of bored disdain on his face, "though I regret to inform you that I have no intention of changing my mind. If the laws of kings no longer apply, than I shall reinstall them within the lands that Celestia has so graciously provided for me."

"Are you kidding me!" Twilight bristled. "I'm offering you a way out of this horrible decision you're making for yourself! Do you not realize that the downfall of every king in history was brought upon by their own stubborn hubris?"

At that, Sombra began to approach her. He came at her slowly with an icy stare, large mailed hooves sloshing through the snow as his long-legged gait brought him closer. Twilight did her best to stay composed in light of his sudden approach, but the way she stiffened as she back-stepped betrayed the illusion of her bravado. Fluttershy could hear Shining Armor give a whispered command to his guards to draw their weapons and prepare to defend his sister. Sombra halted before Twilight and stared her down, cold and unblinking, the wind swirling his cape and snapping his dark, voluminous mane. Twilight Sparkle stood blanketed in the dark shadow he cast, looking as though she was reaching for words that she could not find. The king leaned in close to her, his smoldering eyes glowing cherry red as he cast an unsettling glare upon her that rendered the necessity of a verbal threat pointless. "Young lady," he said, "presume not to give me a history lesson." He spoke quietly, though his voice remained deep and resonating. Smooth as oiled glass, it had a thrum to it, an inky trill that was mellifluous and dark at the same time, like the eldritch hum of a cello.

Fluttershy decided to step in and placate the situation before her husband could make good on the threat his burning eyes so fiercely articulated. Placing her hoof gently on Twilight's arm, she smiled the bravest smile she could and said, "I know you're trying to protect me Twilight, but I'll be okay."

The lavender mare looked back at her, her eyes betraying her scepticism. "I... Fluttershy... I can't just stand by and let this happen to you."

"I know that you think of me as fragile and helpless, but I'll be fine. To tell you the truth, I'm happy things turned out this way. How do you think it would make me feel to have to watch you or any of our other friends being taken away? I don't know if I'd be able to live with that."

Fluttershy was surprised when her friend suddenly took her in a fierce, desperate embrace. "We'll come for you!" Twilight swore in a tone that allowed no leeway for argument, seemingly uncaring that her husband was standing within earshot. "Sombra has no idea what he's set into motion by taking you away from us. The moment we can figure out a way to get you a safe distance from him, he's a dead stallion."

Fluttershy dared a glance at her husband and saw that he was already walking back to the carriage. He's letting me say goodbye, she realized. The embrace only became tighter as she could feel all her friends joining in. "I love you all," she sniffed, trying her hardest not to croak on her words. There was a chance that this may be their final memory of her - she wouldn't allow it to be of her weeping like a coward. Besides, her friends, who were now clinging to her as if they had no intention of ever letting go, were weeping for her more than she ever could.

The inside of the carriage was plush with thickly cushioned seats. A golden brazier in the shape of a dragon's head protruded from the floor at its center. At the far wall between two windows was an inverted tear-shaped wine cask that tapered into a nozzle. Just under it was mounted a shelf which accommodated fine crystal goblets and rough stone tankards. Sombra wasted no time in helping himself to the sweet red from the wooden cask. Fluttershy sat as far away from her husband as she could at the opposite side of the carriage. It was her first time alone with him. She couldn't remember a time in her life when she had been so scared. Seconds were like hours. Minutes were like days. Hours were like weeks, and all she could do was huddle against the farthest wall of the carriage like a frightened field mouse in the hopes that her husband wasn't taking insult from her desire to keep an ample amount of distance between them. It was as if all the warmth had been sucked out of the air when his eyes finally fell upon her. "My queen," he said, "wouldst thou join me?" He gestured to a spot at his side.

"Why, what are you going to do to me?" Fluttershy heard herself blurt out.

Her words seemed to vex him. "I would like you to come enjoy this wine with me," he replied pointedly. "It is frightful cold where we are bound. Some wine in your belly will warm you. It may even relax you."

"I, uhm... I'm quite relaxed as I am."

Sombra cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at her. "You don't say..."

"And I'm quite warm too... Over here... By the window..." It was a lie. She knew her husband knew it. The frigid air seeping in through the drawn slats of the nearby window made her shiver unconvincingly.

The king's expression was inscrutable. "Do as you will, then." He reached for a stone tankard, filled it, then set it down on the flat section of the brazier. He then sat back and looked thoughtfully into his glass, the cleft of his leg wrapped gingerly around its stem. Fluttershy stared ponderously at the tankard her husband had left out. Was it for her should she change her mind?

Hours went by, and on the path the carriage trundled, through frozen tundra and over snowy hills, shaking and swaying to the unmerciful whims of the howling Northern wind. Fluttershy shivered as the harsh elements bit into her bones. Her rumbling belly did nothing to alleviate her of her suffering. She hadn't eaten in nearly a whole day, and she hadn't slept in two - not since Sombra had announced his intention of making her his bride. There were several times when sleep threatened to take her, but she couldn't allow herself to relax; not around him. Her stomach grumbled again.

"You're hungry," her husband said after the long intermission of silence. It wasn't a question.

"I'm fine," Fluttershy insisted, looking to the stone tankard of wine the king had placed upon the brazier, which was now steaming hot from being left on its surface for so long. She was almost tempted to drink it, hot as it was. She wanted something in her belly. Anything. What good was lying to her husband about being hungry going to bring her? What ever kind of fate awaited her at their manse, she might as well face it with a full stomach. "Actually..." She tried to speak up. Sombra's eyes fell upon her, and the words abandoned her. "I..." She looked away from him, shrinking back. "I'm fine," she lied, even as her growling stomach protested.

Sombra sighed. "You are a terrible liar." He opened the shutters of his window and peered outside, looking as if he was eyeing something of particular interest. "Drivers," he shouted out the window. "Halt." The carriage lurched to a sudden stop. The tankard of hot wine almost spilled over but Sombra caught it deftly and placed it back upon the surface from which it had fallen. He then threw open the door.

"W-what's going on?" Fluttershy asked in a panic, shivering as the cold instantly chased away all the warmth that had accumulated within the carriage. Was he kicking her out? Would he really bring her all the way out here just to leave her for dead in the frozen trail they had been traversing? "I— Did I say something to anger you?"

"Stay here," was Sombra's only reply before he slammed the doors behind him. Fluttershy didn't need him to tell her that. How far could she possibly get before she would freeze to death? She sat alone as the howling wind jostled the carriage from side-to-side, lifting her hooves closer to the brazier to warm them. It only took a minute or two before the heat returned to the carriage, for that much she was grateful... What was her husband doing out there..?

She jumped with a start when the doors suddenly flew open. Sombra entered the carriage levitating a cluster of small round objects that looked like tiny purple frostbitten grapes in front of him. "What are those?" Fluttershy wondered aloud.

Sombra grasped the stone tankard heating on the brazier, and levitated the tiny grapes into the cup of steaming hot wine. "Snow berries," he said, the tip of his horn twinkling with an eerie black light as he conducted the last one into the cup.

"Aren't those poisonous?" Fluttershy inquired.

"When they're raw, however you will find them quite delectable after they have been scalded in wine. Wine-boiled snow berries were a popular dessert in my era."

"Oh..." Fluttershy didn't know what else to say to that. She hadn't expected that the monster that was her husband would bother braving the frigid terrain to go out foraging for her.

Sombra observed the berries bubble and froth and swell as they soaked up the wine within the tankard. "It lacks some of the required spices, but the taste should be sweeter still." He placed the tankard upon the brazier and slid it over to his bride. "You're hungry," he said, his voice stern. "Deny it not. Drink this. It will warm you. It will soothe you. It will sate your hunger. And it will help you rest." He didn't wait for her to take it. He simply left it there on the brazier within her reach before calling out the window for the drivers to proceed. The axles of the carriage creaked as the drivers moved to resume their pace through the frozen trail. Fluttershy reached out for the tankard, sensing the king's eyes on her. She tipped her cup back against her lips to allow a single wine-bloated berry into her mouth. The flavor was a tad bitter, but when she chewed there was an explosion of intoxicating sweetness that danced on her taste buds. She eagerly drained the rest of her mug.

The carriage came to a stop. The sudden lurch roused Fluttershy from her involuntary nap, to which her hot dessert and warm brazier had ferried her. Her king and husband threw open the doors, and the invasion of the icy gales immediately chased away any warmth that had been contained within the carriage. Sombra seemed to be surveying something outside before he beckoned to his bride. "We are home, my queen," he said to her before climbing out. Fluttershy could only sit there, teeth chattering, cold, somnolence, and trepidation playing into her shuttering and shivering.

Sombra poked his head in through the open door. Tiny droplets of ice and snow were already forming in his dark mane. "Are you coming?"

"It's too cold!" Fluttershy protested, unable to remember a time in her life when she had shivered so violently.

Sombra extended his hoof toward her, which gave the startled mare cause to flinch back from him. "Come, my queen," he said. "It shall be warm in our bedchamber."

I think I'd rather freeze to death, Fluttershy wanted to say, but just thinking it was undoubtedly a safer course of action.

Sombra led her by her hoof through the entrance of tall, ominous-looking wrought iron gates that, Fluttershy guessed, spanned all around the perimeter of the compound. The old but sturdy-looking barrier disappeared into the fog going in both directions, making it difficult to determine how much of the area was actually gated off. It was beyond these gates her new home loomed, a dark figure through the fog at first. As they traversed the snowy courtyard, Fluttershy could just barely manage to make out the forms of the gargoyles and snapping stone dragons that were stationed at pedestals on the roof. She stared at them, half expecting the horrid things to come to life, spread their wings and charge after her - ridiculous as the thought was. The manse stood immense amidst the sprawling snowy garden that encircled it. It was too large to be called a house, yet too small to be a castle. Five stories tall it stood, ancient, dark, ominous, crumbling in a state of disrepair. She shuttered at the thought of the massive ruin serving as her home. Fluttershy preferred cottages and huts and other cozy, quaint little spaces. "How old is this house?" She heard herself say.

"Old," Sombra replied. "Among the servants I have taken for us are masons, smiths, carpenters, and artisans. All of them are journeyman level workers, at least. They will restore this manse to its former glory."

"How did you know where it was?"

"It was my childhood home," Sombra told her, leading her on through the path that cut through the court yard.

Fluttershy was incredulous to the response. He was the king of the Chrystal Empire, wasn't he? Didn't that mean he lived in the Chrystal Castle? She thought about pressing the matter, but she was cold, exhausted, and terrified out of her wits.

When they arrived at the front stoop of the house, Sombra led his bride up the stairs, to the large double doors that looked like they may have been ornate at one time, but the thousand years of neglect and harsh elements had long faded them to a dull, rotting brown. The rusted black hinges of the double doors screamed as they slowly opened, leading into a massive lobby, where the songs of hammers and saws and other tools filled the air.

A broad-muscled stone mason who was busying himself with the repair of the cracked floor tiles straightened himself to wipe his brow and stretch his back when he must have noticed them. The large earth pony with a prominent brow and brutish features dropped his chisel and turned milk white at the site of them. "Everyone fall into line! The king and queen have arrived!" he announced in a booming voice. Stallions and mares alike halted in their labors to come scrambling into formation, forming prostrated lines on either side of their king and queen that led to the wide staircase at the center of the lobby. The Pegusi who were working on the upper stories of the manse forsook the need for the stairs and vaulted over the railings to hastily join the lines' ranks.

Fluttershy was taken aback at the sight of the prostrated ponies throwing themselves before her. It's not me they're afraid of, she thought, still shivering from the trudge through the frozen garden. It was that ashen grey giant who strode beside her, the devil in equine form that was their new master who they feared. Celestia must have offered the workers and servants a munificent severance in order to incentivize them to pledge new fealties and relocate to the frozen, brigand ridden wasteland which they now called home. Fluttershy could tell by how dirty and grimy they all were that they had been working feverishly for their new king's approval. Shouts of "My king!" "Your grace!" and "My queen!" emanated throughout the lines of groveling ponies. They kept their heads down, seemingly too afraid to make eye contact. Fluttershy took note of one mare who's belly was too swollen for her to kneel and keep her balance, so she just stood with a foreleg crossed protectively over the swell of her midsection as she bent forward as far as she could, keeping one hoof planted firmly to the ground to hold herself up, her face reddening with the effort. That made Fluttershy feel guilty. Who was she to have some poor girl heavy with child to exert herself in such a way?

Sombra led his bride past the pregnant mare and the stallion beside her who must have been her mate, without even so much as sparing them a second glance. He stopped once he had brought Fluttershy to the threshold of the staircase. "Where is my adviser?" he said with an authoritative deepness.

A tiny, ivory white filly with a dark midnight blue mane bound back with a scarlet skull brooch ribbon came scurrying from one of the prostrated ranks, levitating a clipboard along with her as she ran. "That'd be me, your grace!" Her voice cracked before she threw herself before him. The little white filly reminded Fluttershy of Sweetie Bell. The two were almost of a height.

"You are to be my adviser?" Sombra looked down at her curiously. "What is your name, child?"

The little skull at the center of the filly's red ribbon gleamed reflectively. "Ethereal Moon. My friends call me Ethey, if it please your grace."

The king considered her for a moment. "It does. Rise, Ethey."

And she did at once. She looked up at him, her amethyst eyes shimmering through the lenses of her thick glasses, which constantly slid down to the tip of her muzzle whenever she moved too quickly. She pushed them back up and added, "Oh, and just so you know, I'm not a child. I'll be twenty five next spring. It's okay though, everyone makes that mistake."

Twenty four? Fluttershy thought incredulously. The tiny mare that she had presumed to be a filly was seven years her senior?

Sombra hummed reflectively. "Four and twenty. I will remember. Now, I'll have your report."

The scholarly-looking unicorn hovered her clipboard in front her and cleared her throat as she adjusted her specs. "Your's and the lady's quarters have been restored, as you have commanded. The kitchen and the dining hall have been fully refurbished, and the cooks are stocking the larders as we speak. The servants' wing, the tower, the lobby, and the main hall are still being worked on. The rushes for the staircase are almost complete, so the seamstress has said. The surrounding iron gates are still in disrepair because the smiths are in need of materials." She flipped the page on her clipboard. "I've set them to working along side the maids and stewards with some of the more menial tasks until we can acquire more metals. The guards who escorted us are posted throughout the manse and are awaiting your leave to return to the Crystal Empire. That is all I have to report at this time, your grace."

"The library?" Sombra asked her.

"Oh, right!" The adviser pushed her glasses up her muzzle and flipped yet another page on her clip board. "I can't believe I left that part out. This was actually my favorite task so far. Let's see now... Oh, yes. My king, I regret to inform you that the books that were in the library have been rendered illegible due to age, neglect, and poor preservation. However, we have brought in over a dozen carts packed to the brim with books, scrolls, writs, and other literature from the Canterlot library. The librarian is organizing everything as we speak. I've even taken the liberty of assigning one of the carpenters to build new racks and book cases to replace the older ones."

"Good work. Your dedication toward your station pleases me," Sombra critiqued, though the consistent frown he wore seemed to conflict with his words of praise.

"My king is most gracious for saying so." The mare seemed ecstasized by the perfunctory compliment. She bowed again, her glasses sliding down to the end of her muzzle. "Your trip has been a long one. Shall I escort my king and queen to their quarters?"

"I know the way, thank you." The king looked to the lines of servants and said to them, "We break our fasts in the dining halls upon eastlight. This rule shall also apply within the ides and the passing of each solstice."

The servants were murmuring in confusion and trading perplexed looks.

Ethey rolled her eyes. "Breakfast will be served every morning at sunrise," she interpreted.

The servants all nodded in comprehension and resumed their murmuring amongst one another.

Sombra sighed irritably. "It seems that I must assimilate with this modern dialect. Mine own servants looketh upon me as if I were a mummer..."

"The fact that you speak Old Equestrian in a non-ironic way is a part of your charm, my king," Ethey pointed out. "It's actually kind of hot." Sombra gave her a look, causing the adviser to blush as she hid half her face behind her clipboard. "I-if I may be so bold, sire," she squeaked.

"And how exactly does one's way of communing elevate the climate?" Sombra inquired with genuine curiosity.

"Oh, uhm..." The adviser stammered, but she quickly recovered and replied with, "It's an expression. You know? Hot? It means, uhm, intellectual..?"

"Ah, well then, I thank you for your kind words," the king said, accepting the fib with a naivete that was almost comical. "The time has come that my queen and I must take our leave." He turned his attention to the prostrated servants and imparted to them, "You may all resume with your tasks. If you are in need of rest, taketh respite within the quarters that you have claimed within the servants' wing. Know that you shall all be well rewarded for your fealty. It will not be an easy task restoring this manse to its former glory. I shall put in mine own share of sweat to rebuild it. A fair eve I bid thee all."

Awkwardly, slowly, one by one, the workers found the courage to stand and return to their duties, none of them daring to look upon the king or his queen as they ascended the stairs together. Fluttershy watched as the stallion near the pregnant mare helped her stand, once again feeling a pang of guilt. She hadn't even been a queen for a full day, and she was already feeling like a cruel tyrant.

The queen knew where her husband was taking her. She wasn't going to delude herself; a marriage required consummation to become official - and no one was coming to rescue her, at least not tonight. She was so nervous that she wasn't even able to swallow. Her stomach felt as if it had been tied in a knot. She had given little thought into marriage, much less the one to whom she'd surrender her virtue. She had figured that the right one would be kind, gentle, caring, and would share her passion for animals, but alas, her husband was none of those things. Based on what she had witnessed of him, he was... He was... Fluttershy wasn't sure what he was, now that she was giving the subject some thought. He hadn't raised his voice. Not to her, anyway. He has yet to raise his hoof to her, or threaten her. He went out of his way to forage food for her out in the frozen pass. He even made promises of rewards to his servants, which negated any expectations of his plans to enslave them. But what was Sombra if not the vicious beast she had learned so much about? Was he, perhaps, lulling her into a false sense of security? But why would he do that? If he wanted to torment her, he could have started at any time.

All that could be seen as Sombra led Fluttershy on through the stony corridor were the iron sconces mounted along the walls that reflected the bright burning green of the king's eyes, but they were bereft of torches. Some torchlight could have done the frigid hall some good. It felt as if they were walking through a cobblestone ice box. Fluttershy's extremities were numb, and her teeth wouldn't stop chattering, both from the cold and out of anxiety. The lengthy stone hallway eventually led to some stairs that led up and wound about, which led to another hallway of bare sconces. When they finally stopped, Fluttershy was just barely able to make out the details of a door in front of them. The gold handle caught the glow of Sombra's eyes, reflecting them like a jade beacon in the twilight - until his large black hoof eclipsed it, unsecured it, and pushed the door open with a loud creak.

The fire crackling away upon the rack in the large fireplace illuminated the lavish red rushes that covered the floor. Not a single inch of stone showed. The bed was large and decadent, piled high with thick padded blankets that seemed suitable for such a cold climate. Across the bedchamber, twelve and a half paces to the left of the bed was a glass pane that led out to a balcony. The full moon could be seen high in the sky, beyond snowcapped mountains that reflected vividly the moon's immaculate glow. The manse had to have been built on one of the highest peaks in the area for such a grandiose view.

Sombra's hoof once again took Fluttershy's and he brought her to the bed. She could feel her heart pounding so hard that it threatened to stop at any moment. This was the precise moment she had been dreading. Her husband placed his hoofs under her arms and lifted her up, with the comparative ease of an adult lifting an infant, and sat her gently on the edge of the bed. Fluttershy felt her hind quarters and flanks sinking deep into the bed's thickly cushioned padding. She had to plant her hooves directly behind her like a tripod to keep from falling backwards. Sombra made a motion to caress her face, but she shied away. She could only hope she didn't give offense. Her body was acting purely on its own panicked impulses.

Sombra regarded her perturbed demeanor with a look of dark amusement. "Wine?" he offered, drawing his hoof back.

"Y-yes, please!" Fluttershy said at once, grasping for any excuse to forestall her husband's advances.

She watched him approach the mantle above the fireplace, where two crystal goblets and a large bottle had been set out for them as a wedding gift. Sombra took a moment to read the label before he returned to his wife, levitating the bottle and glasses along with him. "This is a fine vintage," he proclaimed as he poured a glass for his bride, the bottle glowing with a crimson aura as he telepathically manipulated it. "No one makes wine like the griffons of blue harbor." He then levitated the bottle to a second glass and filled it. "My queen," he said, presenting one of the crystal goblets to her.

Fluttershy carefully took the glass, feeling its weight as Sombra released it from his telepathic grasp. He then lifted his own cup and said, "To us."

Fluttershy sighed and dutifully lifted her glass. "To... To us." The words came with all the reluctance in the world, but her husband either didn't notice or didn't care. He filled the air with a single high note as he tapped his glass against hers, then he drained it. Fluttershy did the same. It was cold and bitter, but she couldn't deny the pleasantness of the warmth spreading throughout her chest. Her husband had left the bottle on the stand, and she doubted that this was going to be a night that she wanted to remember. She took the liberty of filling another glass for herself. She was sipping from her second cup when the rasping sounds of metal and leather drew her attention.

Cautiously, she managed to pull her gaze away from the deep red within her glass, and she turned her head to witness her husband fidgeting with the fastenings of one of his gauntlets. She took a ponderous sip from her second glass as she eyed him. What is he? she wondered to herself as she watched him undress. His heavy steel gauntlet suddenly crashed to the floor, revealing a long, muscular leg. He began to fidget with the other one. A demon? A monster who takes pleasure only from the suffering of others? That was what the history books said about him. The king removed his other gauntlet, then his gorget, then the gold clasp that held his cape in place, letting it fall around his hoofs like a sanguine puddle.

Fluttershy noticed how the roaring fire behind him cast shadows upon his features that seemed to accentuate his magnificently corded frame. It was the first time she'd bared witness to him without his armor and cape. What are you? Fluttershy found herself wondering again as her husband approached. Would it have been okay to ask him? Would he take offense to the question?

He sat on his haunches, facing her. He placed his hooves upon his crown. Fluttershy couldn't tell if it was the wine that was emboldening her, or if her curiosity made her forget to be afraid, but she lifted her hoofs to meet with his before he could remove it. The king looked at her curiously. Fluttershy forced herself to look into his eyes, she even managed a faint smile. It was the first time she didn't immediately avoid eye contact with him. "Allow me..." She paused, as if to taste the next word before she'd allow it to dance off her lips. "My... My king." Surprise seemed to flicker in her husband's eyes. It was vague, almost inscrutable, but Fluttershy was learning quickly how to read them.

"As you will," her husband allowed after a long, ponderous silence. The expression in his eye was almost tender. Not tender perse, but it was the first time Fluttershy had seen anything in his visage that didn't convey murderous intent. She grasped the dragon bone crown with both hoofs and had to stretch as high as her forelegs would allow in order to completely remove it. A thick, black, leonine mane tumbled down his back and fell down the sides of his face, flowing softly like long dark raven feathers.

He's handsome, Fluttershy observed as she beheld his image that was now unobscured by his royal adornments. She couldn't believe that she was thinking such a thing. It wasn't even an hour ago when she thought of his features as demonic and bestial.

Sombra moved to take her hoof, then he slid his free arm around to the small of her back. Fluttershy's lips were as stiff as stone at first, but they eventually opened under his. She began to shake again, a combination of her returning anxiety and a sensation that was entirely something else consuming her. She was breathless by the time he released her. Fluttershy had questions for him. So many questions. Yet she couldn't think of how she would put any of them to words. The fluttering in her heart was back, more intense than ever. The kings eyes were calm as he caressed her cheek. "My queen," he purred with a deep sweetness.

Fluttershy's tremulous hooves wrapped themselves about his neck as he laid her against the pillow. She hated this thrill, this fevered desire intermingling with her dread and fear. It made her feel unloyal. Her friends were undoubtedly thinking of her at this very moment, worrying about her, wondering of her well being, yet here she was, allowing the monster that had whisked her away from them to take her into his bed. Her thoughts swam chaotically in her mind as she could feel powerful yet gentle hooves pushing her hind legs apart. She wanted to ask him why he had taken her, why he needed a bride, why he chose her, and, most importantly of all, If she would ever see her friends again. Yet, there was only one thing at that moment she was able to put into words. It came out as a coo, a soft, nervous whisper as she pulled him in closer.

"My king."

A Matter Of Life Or Death

Starlight glimmer stared glumly out the window as the endless snowy terrain of the northern empire sped by. The unexpected letter that she had received had brought her holiday to an abrupt and screeching halt. She would never make it to the ocean side magic show where her friend was scheduled to perform. Trixie had managed to land a gig that, not only paid out the butt, but included an all-expenses-paid stay for two at one of the most exclusive resorts in all of Equestria. However It was not simply the massages and seaside appletinis that were not to be that had put her in such a somber mood. The contents of the letter itself was as vague and succinct as it was ominous. She looked down and reread it for what must have been the hundredth time now.

Starlight Glimmer
Something horrible has happened! I don't have time to fill you in on the details. You must come to the Crystal Empire ASAP! Please, I need you more than I ever have before. I assure you that I am not exaggerating when I say this is a matter of life or death. I have arranged for a carriage to pick you up from the train station. I await you at the castle.

-Twilight Sparkle-

After reading the letter several more times, Starlight finally decided to fold it and stow it away in her book bag. It didn't matter how much she obsessed over it; it would always say the same thing, no matter how many times she read it. But what did it all mean? A matter of life or death? Twilight Sparkle had the tendency to turn ant hills into mountains. Hell, she freaks out at book stores when the literature is alphabetically categorized by title instead of the author. Still though, Twilight wouldn't pull her away from her much needed vacation unless it was for something that was urgent, she knew.

Five minutes until arrival. We ask that you please remain seated until the train has come to a complete stop, the conductor's voice crackled from a small speaker mounted overhead.

Starlight gathered her bag and made sure all her things were accounted for. The Crystal Empire, from where she was, looked like a bed of iridescent stalagmites protruding from the snow. Its beauty was indisputable, but its history was dark. Thinking of it that way, Starlight Glimmer couldn't help but smile at the irony. The Crystal Empire reminded her so much of herself.