Leaves the heart forever scarred
I am old. So very old by now. It hasn’t been all that long since King Sombra took over the Crystal Empire - again.
Damn alicorns. They weren’t much help either time, were they?
I was in the crystal castle that day he came. He had strolled through the streets of our beautiful Empire like he owned the damn city, flanked by his Nightmare Guard in their characteristic leather-spiked headgear. There’s a theory that’s never been proven that they induce the pony wearing them into a nightmare state, but how can his soldiers have fought so effectively if they did that? I’ve seen what his powers do to a body without the helmet. His nightmares leave one literally paralyzed with fear, helpless and frozen where they stand.
No, the nightmare gear does more than that, but the only time Princess Celestia captured an enemy soldier wearing one and removed the helmet in her haste to free the poor soul, the pony screamed and died on the spot. Instantly. Other prisoners tell me it was the most horrible thing they had ever seen.
Needless to say, the Princess never tried that again on another pony.
Where was I? Why did I start this train of thought? Oh yeah. King Sombra had strolled through our crystal welcome gates and onto the streets of our beautiful Empire like he owned the damn city.
At one time he did. And now he does again, heaven help us all.
I sigh and look at the wall where I mark off the days. Nothing else to do in this alicorn-forsaken place but mark off time.
I used to mark them off, I mean. Some time ten years back I gave up for a few days, consumed by despair. I have completely lost track since.
Sombra noticed. How did he know? He never comes down here, into the dank, dark dungeons. Somepony told him I was so depressed and consumed by anger and helpless frustration I had ceased to care how many days had gone by. Why did he care again? Bits and fragments of our conversation dance on the edges of consciousness, but I can’t piece them together - the just don’t make sense any longer.
“Why has she stopped counting?” some mare in the throne room says. I don’t know who. I was looking at him and not around the room. I turn at the familiar voice, but his commanding tones drag my attention back to him on his Throne of Corruption.
“I suspect…” was all I remember him saying before I was suddenly in a world drained of bright colors, screaming at the sight of him holding the Crystal Princess Flurry Heart suspended in his magic over her little crib. Her huge eyes were wide with fear, wings flapping helplessly, her entire being pleading with me to rescue her.
I had rushed into the room at her cries - gads that child had a VOICE! The entire floor the crystal nursery was on heard her - they couldn’t help it. But the guards had been struck down with the Nightmare power and only us lowly staff were left to run in panic, trying to get away from the leather-faced invaders led by our former evil King.
I came out of the trance state to discover I had gotten sick all over myself and the polished floors. Ponies in Sombra’s court had cringed, thinking it would anger the King. His only reaction was to purse his lips and grunt at his carelessness in using too much power to probe my mind.
“You pushed her too far,” the same mare from before observed. Well, that was the understatement of the century, I think bitterly to myself in retrospect.
I..I don’t recall what had happened next. I think he must have backhanded her for stating the obvious, but I was too busy screaming from an intense pain from the crystals encrusting my horn to be certain. Who knows? Who cares? It’s over and done with and if I had to take a wild guess, was probably about six years ago.
“Time for your walk, mum.”
The mare’s voice cuts through the unpleasant memory. Steeling my lip, I glare at the witch with the keys to my crystal cell. “Go to Tartarus,” I snap at her. “I don’t feel like it today!”
She’s a wild thing, her mane grass green and orange, all spikey and sticking out of the holes in her nightmare-stylized Captain of the Guard helmet. I’ve heard tell this one is a concubine of King Sombra’s but only in whispers. No one dares offer it in more than eye-movement gestures her way as she swaggers past them, not because they fear his highness will hear, but because it makes all of our skins crawl when she simply replies, “Not yet.”
But today I get a shock when she won’t leave and I look up at Disapathy. Damned if that isn’t the weirdest name I’ve ever -
“You’re coming anyway, grandma,” she sighs.
Maybe I should. It would help my arthritis once I get moving. And I can’t help but after decades of seeing her in the same guard uniform, well, I am just dying of curiosity as to why she’s decked out in formal attire this day!
“Yeah, only ‘cause I’m curious about the outfit,” I grumble, getting up.
The walk starts out silent, despite my curiosity. Night is coming - his night, his rules. He rules the night now, ever since...well in the beginning he had kept Princess Luna as a concubine. That is, until one day when she somehow broke free of her chains and fell to her death from the highest tower in the palace. Why didn’t she fly away to freedom, you might ask? Because he had clipped her wings so she couldn’t. He could have been a savage and had them torn off...I’ve seen the victims of that form of treatment by his Lieutenants before they were executed for treason - poor pegasai. But with the Night Princess, he merely clipped them. Wanted her to keep them as a reminder of the freedom and privilege her alicorn status had once allowed her, I suppose.
“A bit for your thoughts,” Disapathy starts the conversation, frankly startling me.
“I was thinking about Princess Luna,” I offered up. I don’t talk much to Disapathy during our walks, but her attired has me unsettled for reasons I cannot hope to fathom. Maybe I can get a clue as to what’s so special about this day without appearing so obviously hungry for information.
“Eh,” the unicorn shrugs her shoulders in indifference, living up to her name. “I didn’t care for her.”
Shadows stretch across the floors where windows are absent. No source of light means moving shadows are Sombra’s eyes and ears, a manifestation of his power, keeping tabs on the castle staff. Despite the threat of me falling off unsteady hooves, I move away from Disapathy’s magical assistance to avoid touching them. I don’t trust them - Tartarus, I don’t trust her, but then she never took an entire Kingdom from me.
I avoid them, but I don’t avoid nearly falling. Sombra’s top henchmare catches me and keeps me from breaking a leg, but again, she does this with a dutifully stoic expression. Probably doesn’t want to incur her master’s annoyance at damaging his property. I mumble a thanks and resume shambling closer to her so I don’t do that again.
The unicorn mare in leather, studs and a bolero of deadly sharp hairpicks snorts. “You’re usually chatty old mare. What, you don’t like my get up?” Disapathy takes a moment to spin around, showing off the slutty and yet formal outfit she’s attired in.
“I’m sure it gets the King’s stallionhood up,” I grumble. “Had she lived, I would never have attired my filly in that trashy clothing.”
Disapathy smiles and it chills me to the bone so bad I stumble in gut-tightening fear.
Why did I do that?
We were heading to the throne room. I should have known. I knew all the back corridors and ways to secretly get there, having learned them in the days-long fight to get Flurry Heart back from King Sombra. A handful of the lower staff that had survived his initial invasion had banded together, led by Prince Armor. With so much at stake, we learned from him how to hide from the Nightmare Guard, how to hear the almost imperceptible sounds of crystals forming underneath our hooves before they erupted through the polished floor and impaled us where we stood. The knowledge came at such a heavy price...witness to so many dying all the creative ways that bastard dark mage played with to take out his opposition. The fight was short, Shining Armor had been captured alive and within what seems liked minutes of his fall, we all were taken captive.
“Hey, watch your step!” my escort snapped. I catch my hoof just in time, saving me a fall. What for, I wonder. Is Disapathy’s garb in celebration of my long-overdue execution?
I can only hope.
The throne room is festive - or what passes for festive with King Sombra without utilizing happy colors. The black crystals crawling their way up from the walls towards the high, vaulted ceilings are more iridescent, reflecting captured light from the hides and attires of the ponies in attendance. It reminds me of prisons, my cell and how all the light and love I once knew in the Empire was now trapped within a crystal darkness of fear and utter despair.
A hush falls over the room and its milling attendance of dignitaries as we make our way to the throne and the Dark Pony that sits upon it. I don't even wonder at their presence at an execution. If I am going to die - here and now - I sure as Tartarus am going to look my hated enemy in the eye and spit in it if I am allowed to get close enough!
This time I am prepared for the surprise of not seeing King Sombra in his traditional, steel-armored garb. It’s similar - the polished blue of precious platinum from the mines bonds the surface of his breastplate, crown and greaves. A royal purple cloak trimmed in ermine adorns his strong, broad back. He doesn’t look mocking of me, or cocky. Just - expectant.
That look alone terrifies me.
Everypony in the room is silent as Disapathy takes her place at his side as his top bodyguard. He remains silent for long, torturous (to me) minutes. He is unreadable, impassive, yet not cold somehow. The barest glimmer of curiosity lights the interior of those ruby, crystal-pupiled eyes. Those awful eyes always reminded me of a demon, a serpent -
“Why has she stopped counting indeed?” somepony in the throne room says, breaking my thoughts into shattered crystal fragments. I realize it was him speaking. He straightens on his ill-gotten throne of fear, slavery and blood. “Why indeed?” he rumbles rhetorically.
“Because I have nothing left to live for!” I found my voice, also shattering the silence. I feel several ponies behind me jump. I guess I haven’t talked in so long it was a surprise to them.
Sombra’s reaction is a lip curling over a sharp, upper fang. “I know,” he acknowledges. “I once told an acquaintance of yours what I will now tell you...your fear - in your case, your despair - is delicious!”
“Fine, you’ve had your meal, so kill me already, you bastard,” I spit out, going for broke. He is enjoying this way too much, this dragging the inevitable out.
His eyebrows raise. “Oh, but you are not here to die, my dear. I’ve been feasting on the fear and hatred of your living death for 16 years now. It is as sweet then as it is now and has aged - “ he summons a flagon of wine to him with his magic. “ - as well as this wine.” He studied the blood-red contents of the silver cup for a moment, then decides something. Standing, he trots off his throne to stand closer to me. “Do you recognize this flask, my dear?” he asks pleasantly.
I do, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know I do. But he already knows I remember its significance.
“If I recall, before he died, Shining Armor told me it was the flask he and his wife Cadence drank from at their betrothal. You remember this, yes? You were, after all, there.”
For some reason beads of sweat form on my forehead as a new, powerful pit of knots form there. My mouth instantly dries up. “No, I don’t,” I lie. I can’t believe I just lied to the King of Deception and Lies.
Of course he sees through it in a second. He goes back up the steps to his throne, turns back to me and does not yet sit back down. “I am intimately familiar with the old Crystal Empire’s traditions, of course,” he nods, returning to regard the beauty of the cup. “A King without a Queen must take one of royal blood and eligible age in order to legally possess the Empire - “
My gut tightens in fear. “No,” I wheeze. I am so scared my throat tightens and I cannot breathe.
“And I am nothing if not quite - patient,” Sombra says matter-of-factly. His eyes open wide. “Remember, my dear, hate is my meat, fear my wine,” he chides me, baring his fangs in a rictus grin.
"Oh, get on with it!" Disapathy sighs in a tone I have never heard her use with this evil king.
"Tsk, tsk, patience, my dear," he says as somepony brings him a black crystal chest. As he review its contents he adds, "We must be patient with our aged guest. She is old and cannot recall things as well as We do."
"Or she doesn't want to," the mare snorts. An acid glare from Sombra reigns her back into place. She glances down and adds, "Your Highness."
"Of course she does not," Sombra's small flare of ire at his captain's lack of decorum subsides quickly. He is clearly in a good mood. "Would you if you had lost a daughter 16 years hence during an invasion you could not protect her from?"
No.
He's lying.
I'm not...if I were her, I WOULD HAVE SAVED FLURRY!
"Aw, come on, dad," Disapathy huffs, growing annoyed at the theatrics her king is clearly drawing out for his own amusement. "Why - "
"I maychance have raised you, mare, but am not your father," he smoothly admonishes her, removing a smaller version of his own horned crown. "That would make this union rather - distasteful, don't you think?"
What? Wait..!
Sombra gestures Disapathy to him. She obeys as Sombra hands a length of silken cord woven from fine dark crystal to the nearby Vizier.
I somehow find the will to think of a plan to stop this mad king from legally taking my throne away from me. “No,” I shout. “Wed me. NOT HER!”
“Oh pluuzzzee!” Disapathy rolls her eyes. “Sorry - mom. You’re a bit too old, dontcha think?”
Sombra chuckles, despite being busy giving the Vizier last instructions on the vows. “This will be a most - unique union, don’t you agree, Princess?” He looks directly at me, then as my daughter kneels before him, ready to receive the crown as the new Queen of the Crystal Empire.
I don’t remember how, but I know the last straw was at his next vile words. “The foals will be most interesting from this union.”
I know I screamed. I know I threw off the cloak around my bony old shoulders, revealing scars where my alicorn wings had been torn off 16 years ago. I tried desperately to fuel my actions with love and maternal rage so as not to feed him as I rushed like a madpony to a tall crystal colonnade, smashing my horn so hard against it I nearly blacked out. To everypony’s surprise, some of the black crystals shattered away from its long-disused surface, letting forth a titanic blast of pent-up magic.
The last thing I remember before it all went dark forever was my blast heading towards King Sombra and Flurry Heart, bouncing off the shield he had thrown up with unbelievable speed. It twisted, turned the malevolent black of Sombra’s corruption and full of razor sharp, needle-thin crystal shards, flew back at me, impaling me against the far wall.
