Fire and Shadow: The Rebirth of Spike and the Descent of Sombra

A scream resonated in the wind. Fresh blood rushed over Shining Armor's shaking gauntlet and white rune blade. White Shadow Penumbra's helmet and turban shattered as he crumpled. Scarlet leaked between his closed eyes, slumped before the Paladin, who huffed under his breastplate. Both armies fell silent, unable to offer anything until the contest was decided.

Hot tears ran down Lily's cheeks. With Penumbra fallen, she was no longer under his command. And at her word, the army would march on the Crystal Empire and avenge him, certainly! Her fist shook around the cracked war horn, half-blinded. Snowflakes drifted around her, and her trembling hand shifted towards an ax, her dreams dying before her misty eyes.

No. She couldn't dishonor his wishes, no matter her personal feelings. “Men, stand down. Per the captain’s orders, we accept the outcome…and surrender.” Her shoulders slumped, reluctantly tossing her weapon aside. The other soldiers followed suit, laying down their arms in a clatter as the Crystal Pony forces approached.

She glared at Shining Armor, marching forward without any remorse present on his face. Cadance rushed to tend to Penumbra. “He's alive,” she called. “Badly hurt, but he’ll live. We’ll make certain he receives the best medical treatment immediately.”

“He fought well,” Shining Armor nodded. “Gave me quite a workout! I hope to have a rematch with him someday!” He winced, bruised with a couple ribs cracked under the impact of sword strikes his armor deflected.

Cadance’s frown deepened as she stood up to whisper harshly into her husband’s ear. “We’re going to have words later.” He gulped before nodding, directing his men to escort Penumbra's forces through the gates and into the barracks.

The cell could barely contain their mass numbers, let-alone hope to feed them for long since their own lands were stretched thin. Lily leaned her tired body against the wall before slumping down, knees to her chest, hoping Penumbra recovered swiftly.

The flurry of snow grew more rampant within the hour. The Crystal Pony guards remained ready in front of their captives while high in the castle, while the queen paced around the throne room, berating her husband’s recklessness.

“Honey, with all my love and respect for you, what the actual fuck was that?!” Chastised Cadance, glaring over the alabaster unicorn. “How could you risk everything over what? Macho pride?! One wrong move, and we could have lost all we built in an instant!” She took a moment to control her rising temper, pacing her breaths. “Damn it, Shining! Sometimes the reasons I fell in love with you are what makes me so frustrated with you!”

“Hey, it worked out, didn't it? What was I supposed to do, let soldiers die needlessly?”

“We can't afford to look after them! What happens if Sombra doesn't care about our hostages? What if he's willing to sacrifice his own son to fulfill his ambitions? What then!?”

“Then that just proves how unhinged the tyrant is! All the more reason to convince his men that something must be done about him. He was never suited to be a king!”

“What does that have to do with risking their livelihoods over a petty contest!? You could have killed the poor colt!”

As their yelling echoed around the spacious throne room, similar unrest brewed all over the Crystal Empire. Its borders invaded, the citizens were fearful Sombra would send reinforcements to claim his captured forces.

Not to mention the burdened Crystal Pony guards situated there, as the army they confined hungered for a chance to avenge their fallen commander.

In a hospital bed rested Penumbra, deathly pallid, the doctors and nurses in attendance uncertain if he would awaken. Bandages were wrapped around his fractured skull, his breathing short and strained.

Gales howled louder. A white flurry whipped above the tumultuous region.

Called by the strife between everyone, the land unprotected by the Crystal Heart, the dormant Windigos began their descent...

*****

Beatrix rose up in alarm, panting heavily, sweating profusely. Looking around, she found herself in her cove, the sounds of preparations still going on outside. The witch placed a hand over her chest to steady her beating heart. She must have slipped into an uneasy slumber, unable to recall the dream.

“Mmngh.... Abby..?” She groaned, looking around for her monochrome daughter. Yet the filly wasn’t anywhere to be found. ‘Must've left already,’ she assumed, lips pursed.

Sighing, the violet unicorn curled back up into a ball within her cove. But upon trying to reach for her hat, she found that it was missing. That’s when she recalled what had happened before she fell asleep.

“Here, sweetheart,” she’d told Abadonna, a twinkle in her eye as she placed the far too large gift over her tiny head. “This is for you.”

“F-for me? Woooooow!” The younger unicorn exclaimed, the lower part of her muzzle smiling as she felt over the furry brim and fabric.

Beatrix couldn’t help but grin. “My mom gave me one just like that when I was small. You take good care of it, okay?”

“Y-yes, mom! I will!” Abby giggled, shuffling in her robes before wrapping her arms around her mother. “Thank you!”

Torn from her reverie, Beatrix cast her head back and sighed, shaken up by all the stress swelling in her chest. She couldn't exactly assist the alliance directly without the risk of injuring her unborn child. Groaning, she traced her belly, thinking about the condition of the child growing inside.

Resigned, she sighed and wiped away more tears. Abadonna would be okay. She wondered if she was with her father now. Surely, Zeloph wouldn’t mistreat her, right? He must have cared deeply about Abadonna if he went through the trouble of impregnating her.

Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the events that had happened. The way the primordial looked over her, touched her, made her feel like she was his whole world. And the way he took her….

Beatrix couldn’t help the feelings of need burning in her loins as she remembered feeling the angel, biting her lip as her nipples grew hard in her leotard. The sensational whispers and sounds he sang to her.

As manipulative and wicked as the fallen one was, Zeloph filled the flustered witch with wanton delight, unlike anything she often indulged in. And she couldn’t deny that part of her wanted to sleep with him again...

“Is everything alright, Ceann Oga?” A gentle voice reverberated through the cave, pulling Beatrix out of her hazy thoughts a moment. A soft rustle echoed at the entrance before the full figure of the dream faun cautiously stepped in. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“O-oh! Aaah, no! Not at all,” Beatrix insisted, smiling bashfully before patting an empty spot beside her.

Lady Ewe placed her staff onto the wall before sitting next to her friend. She put a hand over the unicorn’s forehead, frowning with concern. “Oh my, yer burnin’ up! Have ye caught a fever?”

“No, I’m fine!” Beatrix insisted, pulling her head away. “I’ve just been cooped up in here, is all. But what about you? Shouldn’t you be with the rest of the alliance? They’re about to head out and intercept the Pony of Shadows’ forces, aren’t they?”

“I will not be joinin’ them, “ Lady Ewe stated firmly. “Ye are my responsibility, Beatrix. Yer health and safety come first, especially with a babe on da way.”

“O-oh…. Wow, thanks. That…means a lot,” Beatrix said lowly, struggling to meet those kind honey eyes of the goat woman.

“Besides,” Oona continued, looking away into the light pouring in. “I’ve never been one fer conflict and battle. My brother would’ve been far more suited here than I.”

“Brother?” Beatrix looked up to the faun curiously. “You have a brother?!”

“Aye,” she confirmed, smiling fondly. “Dìon and I would get into many squabbles durin’ our youth. That carried over as he trained to succeed our father, strengthened with every brawl he got himself into. But through that rough exterior was a big heart, devoted to helping the weak stand up to the strong.”

“Whoa.… Where is he now?”

“Last I saw of him, Dìon was in the middle of a civil war, determined to stop giants from crushing Equestria.” Oona looked back towards her protege. “I’m sure you’ll meet with him one day.… Hmm...” Her gaze narrowed, tilting her head in a puzzled manner. “Say, what happened to your hat? I rarely see ye without it!”

“Ohh, umm.... It's complicated. I'll explain later,” she promised. “Besides, I can always summon a new one since my costume is practically a part of me!” To demonstrate, she waved her hand, and in a puff of colorful magic, a new hat materialized in her grasp.

“Ahh, convenient,” Oona giggled. “Well, if there’s anything ye need, know that I’m always here for ye.” The goat rose to leave until Beatrix reached to grasp her wooly hand, pulling her back down. Lips pursed together, she placed her mentor’s hand over her chest while gazing up sorrowfully.

“And if I need you now?” She asked, embarrassed with how heightened her emotional state was. “Ever since Zeloph and I.… I’ve been yearning for a certain touch”.

Heat rose to Oona’s cheeks, her eyes falling over the shape of the witch’s bust and the excited nipples poking through the fabric. “O-oh, I see..!”

“Plus, we…never did get to finish before, did we?” She added with a sweet smile, pulling her closer until their muzzles were inches away from touching.

“No, we have not,” she sighed heavily, her eyelids lowering. “But are ye sure? Ye must feel so vulnerable, and I don-”

“I'm sure,” assured the witch. “My hormones are really out of whack, and you’re the one I’m most comfortable touching me right now. I-I’ve been crushing on you hard since we met, and I never thought.… Ugh! Fuck, you’re just.... One of the greatest friends a gal like me could ask for, Oona! I wish I possessed your wisdom and spirit! Maybe then I-”

Her confession was cut short as lips met hers in a lingering kiss. Pulling away, the dream faun panting slightly while her eyes burned for the witch. “Ye…ye have no idea how much it means to be valued like that, Ceann Oga. Ye flatter me enough as it is! But no more words.… I need ye just as bad~.”

A wide smile was her only response as Beatrix magically poofed their clothes away, discarding them into a pile. Starting exactly where they left off, the unicorn latched onto the goat’s massive mammaries, trying to grope as much tit flesh as she could.

Oona yelped and groaned, her nubs hardened in Beatrix’s mouth as she sucked and nibbled them. And like before, one hand slide down her round belly to feel up the wooly mound of her pussy, where fingers gingerly tracing over her labia.

“A-aaugh! S-sweet lucid dreams~!” She praised highly, spreading her thighs out while feeling those digits push into her heated nethers. Her hand pressed the mare’s face deeper into her squishy tit. The witch’s fingers hit a spot that made her see stars, fem cum leaking over her knuckles before Beatrix pulled away, cheeks rosy and eyes sultry staring at her mentor for approval, to which she answered by pushing the pregnant mare down for along, wet kiss.

Their bodies melded into each other, large breasts squished together. Beatrix pulled away to snuggle her face into Oona’s warm wool, giggling as it tickled her.

While the two cuddled and kissed one another, the witch’s hands roamed all over the dream faun’s body, discovering where she preferred to be touched.

Soon, the heat grew unbearable as the two lovers pressed their pussies against one another, rubbing their inflamed labia while moaning the other’s praises. A sticky trail leaked between their swollen lips. Moist squishes sounded each time they drove their hips, kissing and nibbling at each other, trying to grasp everything they hadn’t.

Wetness pooled below their bottoms, clung to the thin coat that decorated their supple flesh. She basked in her teacher's warmth, thankful that they were finally given a chance to enact their shared affection without interruptions. And not before long, the two shared a loud cry of ecstasy as they brought themselves to a glorious climax.

Fem cum dripped off their legs, the tired shepherd laying down while taking deep gulps of air. Her eyes had glazed over, unable to focus on the mare, nuzzling her face into her bosom. All she could do was stroke her platinum mane.

“Beannaich na spioradan,” Ewe sighed dreamily. “That was better than I could have imagined. Oh, Beatrix…”

“Lady Ewe…” She whispered, staring brightly at the goat’s muzzle. “I…I love you.”

“And I love you,” she returned, smiling happily before kissing her snout and relaxing into their makeshift bed of clothing. With her desire dying down after such an intimate encounter, Beatrix thought over the possibilities of settling down with someone. Could she find herself a partner to spend her days with? Who would it be? The witch wasn’t sure. Sombra was beyond her reach, no doubt ready to make amends with his wife and daughter. And Zeloph, no matter the strange attraction they shared, was someone Beatrix knew she shouldn’t pursue.

But if she were to choose a permanent partner, she hoped her mentor would be the one. Or at least someone who understood and wouldn’t judge her.

“Let us sleep, Ceann Oga,” the shepherd drowsily said. “We can continue your trainin’ within our dream.”

But until then, Beatrix was content with how things were right now, knowing that even if she were alone, she had friends to fall back on. She closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take her once more, aware her dreams would be far more pleasant.

*****

“We have arrived,” the masked carriage driver proclaimed.

Peering out from the windows, Inky Rose and company gasped at the sight of the marvel before them. Standing before them was the monochrome city. The entire landscape had become pale, the skies without color. Even the sun looked off, now a black void of light. It was like they entered a different world.

“What happened here?” Radiant Hope asked the driver, unable to tear her gaze away from the impending walls.

“The grand savior has purified this land,” the driver replied. “It is a fortress against the oppressive, sanctuary for all who enter.”

“It looks so…ethereal,” Inky commented, unable to deny its appearance as an impossible feat of art. Once the carriage passed through the gates, the entrance closed behind. Around the block were similar white-robed acolytes, some sporting masks, and others stoic expressions. But some looked lively, many fillies and foals playing in an open space. The grey pegasus looked over to the large spire that towered over all the houses and buildings.

“This place…reminds me of a lot of the Crystal Empire,” Wet Nurse whispered, looking all over the sights.

“Yes,” admitted Foal Bearer. “It’s eerily perfect. Unnatural…”

“Something’s definitely off,” Radiant Hope agreed. “Somehow, this entire city’s presence has tamed the elements themselves. This tumultuous region is no longer battered by sandstorms. We need to be on guard.”

All three mares nodded before the wagon came to a stop, letting them off before the main entrance to the cathedral, where the ruler was waiting for them. To either side was Fleur de Lis, the head of Fancy Pants nearly formed from her neck, and Bellatrix, sporting her old devilish persona.

“Fleur? Bellatrix?!” The queen questioned while approaching the pale emperor.

“Welcome,” Zeloph greeted, bowing his head while clutching his seraph staff. “To my beloved city! I am relieved to see you’ve made it safe and sound, your majesty.”

“Who are you? What is this place? What have you done to them?!” Radiant Hope demanded from the angelic primordial, who smiled in response.

“Haha, no need for aggression, my dear,” he assured. “For starters, my name is Zeloph. I come only to offer a safe haven to those in need. Your friends here,” he motioned to the unicorn and she-devil. “They sought my guidance after growing tired of Dragon Lord Spike’s faulty leadership. I can assure you there is no trickery on my part.”

Fleur stepped forward with a nod. “It’s true. I could no longer stand aiding a group that refused to do anything about your ruthless husband, Inky. It was through Zeloph that I was reunited with my beloved.” Her hand petted Fancy’s face, who nuzzled her weakly.

“No...something isn’t right!” She could sense the Crystal Heart within her chest, trembling under spiritual pressure.

“Zeloph…. I-I’ve heard that name before!” Inky recalled, remembering the image of that black mass of darkness and eyes in the Necronomicon. But the figure before her looked nothing like the depiction, outside of the many eyes embedded in his wings. “You.… You were that thing the dream shepherd warned me about!”

“I am,” he acknowledged with an uneasy sigh. “But you must understand; I am not the monster you think I am. My intentions are p̸u̧͟r̕͘͟e͝͞͝!”

“Then show me,” Inky demanded with narrowed eyes. “Bring me my daughter, as I was promised!”

“As you wish,” he answered, shutting his eyes as he muttered a chant in an unknown language. Holding his hands together, his eyes opened as gleaming light poured from his pupils. Within moments, a strange creature was summoned forth. The Ophanim’s ringed radiance appeared with Cerise Silhouette safely inside. Lowering to the ground, the rings dissolved in a flash as the dancer dropped onto the floor.

Cerise shook herself from her daze while holding her head. “Naaghn, w-where am I?” The dancer questioned, rising to her feet before spotting the queen and her entourage. “Wait! Mom!?”

“Cerise,” she cried as she dashed to secure her daughter in her arms, hugging the mare tightly. “Oh, thank the heavens you’re safe!”

“Mom,” she sniffled, nuzzling into the pegasus’ neck before she pulled away to look around the monochrome city. “What happened? How did we...?”

“While Sombra wasn’t looking,” the winged Vice Lord explained. “I spirited you away. I hope this proves my intentions are not malicious.”

Cerise looked back, eyes widened in dread over the visage of Zeloph, her mind flashing back to the page entry and winged abomination with many eyes.

“No, I suppose not,” the queen accepted, still sceptical. “Thank you, Zeloph.”

He chuckled before once more bowing. “Why not come inside and have something to eat? You must be hungry after traveling so far.”

“NO!” Cerise exclaimed, pulling away from her mother to gain distance from the tall emperor.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Mom, we have to leave! Now!” She urged.

“What?” Inky turned to the twins and Radiant in confusion.

“Yes,” Zeloph added with a curious glimmer in his magenta eyes. “What’s your hurry?”

“Don’t try to play coy, you fiend!” Cerise berated. “You might be able to fool everyone, but I know what you truly are!”

“Oh? D̴̢̀o͞ ̸̧t͡e͢͝ll̡̕~.̧”

The daughter of darkness turned to her mother. “He’s a fallen angel, further twisted by extensive exposure to the Necronomicon! He may seem holy, but what he offers ensures the erasure of existence! Just look what he’s done to Fleur de Lis! That’s her husband’s corpse attached to her neck!”

“I'm quite content as I am, thank you.” Fleur snorted with a toss of her mane. “I think you’re attacking him because you can’t stand to accept that your father is a cruel stallion!”

Cerise stamped a foot. “No, can’t you see? You’ve been brainwashed!!”

“Young lady, I would never enforce my power against anyone,” Zeloph insisted, gesturing to the crowd forming around them. “These good ponies came to me w͢͝i͘͞͏l̶̵͜li̶͘ng̶ly̢! Where your father offered damnation, I offer salvation.”

Cerise groaned, gripping her mother tightly by the shoulders, staring at her pleadingly. “Mom, please, you have to believe me! He’s the one responsible for all this madness. I think he did something to dad while imprisoned in the Necronomicon!” She was practically hyperventilating, pointing at the series of eyes adorning his wingspan.

Inky pursed her lips while caressing her cheek, wanting nothing more than to trust her daughter. She peered back to the midnight-maned angel. “Zeloph, is it true? Are you responsible for my husband’s descent?”

With a rustle of robes, he approached the cautious mares while frowning. “It is true,” he confessed. “I was the one who guided your husband on the path of self-destruction.”

A collective gasp of surprise resonated with the crowd. Fleur de Lis the most surprised while Bellatrix remained silently suspicious.

“You what?!” The Fleur exclaimed with a raised eyebrow.

Cerise remained on edge, not expecting this villain to actually admit to his crimes.

“It is in my nature,” Zeloph explained, looking towards the queen with regret. “I, too, am a victim of the Necronomicon, having been unjustly trapped there. It has taken me great effort to rid my once pristine soul of its taint. In my maddened state, I urged Sombra to submit to the darkness in his heart, in hopes that one day, I may free him.”

Inky's ears flicked. “Free him?”

The primordial nodded, spreading his wings to better show off his enigmatic glow. “I must atone for my sins. That is why I have built this place; to redeem myself and liberate this land from all violence! I ask upon you all, can I be forgiven for my actions that have caused this broken family immense suffering?”

The crowd, moved by their leader’s selfishness and humility, answered in a resounding, “Yes!”

Zeloph lowered himself to a knee before Inky Rose, taking her hand into his while looking up to her remorsefully. “And what about you, your highness? Will you forgive me? I will do all in my power to make it up to you. Name it, and I shall give it!”

“A-ah, I.… If you truly mean it, then-”

“Mom, no!” Cerise cuts in, pulling her away from the kneeling immortal. “He’s the reason father became a mad tyrant, the reason we were thoroughly abused! You can’t!”

“Cerise Silhouette,” Zeloph addressed, standing over her shoulder, all eyes fixated on her. “Is it true you are a partial reincarnation of Pacific Glow? Her soul was embedded to yours by your father, long before you were born, was it not?”

“Y-yeah, but.... How do you know that?” She sneered at him.

“I can sense it. Her spirit lives through you and flows like water. Naturally, I despise all that is evil, but I have come to understand that the dark arts can create good things, such as yourself. Perhaps you would be willing to provide me more insight, hmm?”

“Get away from me,” Cerise hissed with clenched teeth. “You won’t fool me. I know you just want to use us!”

“Perhaps,” Radiant Hope stepped in, snout pursed. “I don't trust you either, but there’s no denying your openness to mistakes. What's your pitch?”

Zeloph smiled widely. “All that I request is that you stay here and see for yourself what our life is like. If by day's end you're not convinced, my acolytes will send you wherever you wish by caravan. Even if that's to deliver you to the alliance. I will not hold it against you if you wish to leave.”

“Good! C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Cerise insisted before Zeloph raised a hand.

“Wait just a moment,” the angelic pegasus halted before placing a hand on Inky’s false wing, the queen reflexively drawing her plume tightly. “I promised to redeem myself, your highness. And before you go, I must insist I remedy a prior action. Let me restore what your husband cruelly stole from you.”

“You…you can?” Inky asked, her eyes lighting up hopefully. “But surely, the cost would be too great!”

He nodded. “It is. For my magic to fully heal your wings, I must ask you to sacrifice your memories.”

“M-my memories?!”

“Oh no…” Cerise mouthed, remember the passage of what the burning ones did in the tome, and a chill swept over her.

“Just the ones you’d be better without,” he reassured. “Perhaps, if I may suggest, you relinquish the thoughts of Sombra that turned sour after the mistreatment he’s done to you. Would it not be better to rid the pain he’s inflicted on your soul?”

“Don't do it,” Cerise pleaded while gripping her arm harder, confident her mom wasn't in her right mind anymore.

“I...I don't know,” lamented Inky, twitching her false wing. While Zeloph may have been the one to push Sombra, his actions remained his own. And he had betrayed their love and trust. Thrown away all they'd worked so hard to build. And even if the fallen angel hadn’t intervened, would he still have invited the darkness into him through all his past sins? “The rest of you can do as you wish. I want to see what lies in this city. For now, Zeloph…I accept your offer.”

“Mom,” Cerise cried in disbelief.

“Very well,” Zeloph agreed, pulling her mother away before looking back to his audience. “Everyone! Let us sing a prayer for this troubled queen. L̡̪̩̤̜͙̦̻̤̪͞e̷̲͘t̸̨̺̠̻̩ ̶̧͈̗͓̙̜͔̣̥u̜̣̗̼̤s̖͈̦̞̜̦̲͡͞ ̮̞̠̥̯̭̗h͕̭͉̰̬̗̞̯ę̸̩͈͍̲̟ḻ̝͕͎͕̭̦ͅp̵̜͜ ̵̡̳͍̦͍̻h҉̭̣̻̦͙͖e̞̥̭̝̺ŕ͈͡ ̢̲͔b̴̛̯̭͕͍̟é̟̲̙̮́̕c̪̙͓̰͘ǫ̷̛̤m̡̰̖̲̰̮̤̮̟e͈̯͕̻̖ ̨̞͉̥ẁ̜̖͔̘͓̲̜͚͟h̷͔̜͎̠̼̳̀͟ó͓̩̦̳͠ͅl͟͏̴͚͚̞͇͍̠̻ę̻͚͡!̵̪̝̙̣͎̩”

The crowd of zealots clasped their hands together and began to chant in unison. An archaic halo glowed around Zeloph’’s head as he dipped the lovely pegasus into his arms. Her cheeks flushed as her startled eyes bore into his, and he placed two fingers on her forehead. White fiery light poured into Inky’s head, her form overtaken by warmth and purity, gasping in unrestrained delight.

Cerise watched in dismay as the fake wing disintegrated into dust, tissue and bone beginning to heal from her back. Feathers bloomed out of her wingspan, stretching out until what was taken had been given back.

As Zeloph pulled her back up to let her stand, the weary pegasus shook her head before looking over to her newly restored wing. Tears broke down her cheeks, barely able to believe the evidence before her eyes.

“M-my wings! They’re healed!!” She exclaimed happily, shaken to her core.

“Praise be!” One acolyte proclaimed as the gathered crowd cheered. Cerise gazed over in distress towards her mother’s entourage, who remained unsettled but astonished at what they witnessed.

Fleur’s own doubt had been resolved as she smiled confidently, while her husband and Bellatrix offered worried glances.

Inky Rose embraced Zeloph, showering him with gratitude for the miracle he performed. The winged immortal smiled in return while his eyes drifted to her daughter.

Growling, Cerise marched over to pull her mother away from him. “You bastard! What have you done!?”

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Inky asked, child-like in her innocent tone. “Look at me, I can fly again! Isn’t that great?”

“W-well, yes, but mom, he-”

Inky bbn blinked away tears. “Oh, we should go find your father! Where was he again?”

Her question sent shudders through the young mare’s spine, the implications all but clear. “Mom…. You don’t remember?” Her answer was met by an eerie tune resounding close to her—a love song from a late-era.

“The details are a little foggy, but I think he’s still at home, isn’t he? Oh, Zeloph! Would it trouble you to send him here?”

He laughed. “All are welcome to my city. But why don’t we have dinner first? I’ll need time to make proper arrangements.”

Inky nodded in understanding as she urged her group to follow her inside the cathedral doors. They all looked to each other, uncertain what to believe, but quietly followed her lead. Cerise, however, remained still, bitter tears streaming down her face while clutching her fists tightly.

“I sense great strife in you, child,” Zeloph whispered, towering over the upset earth mare. “I understand; this is hard to swallow. But it had to be done. Believe me, I mean you and your mother well. Yet you are not so easily convinced, I can see. So tell me, Cerise. What must I do to prove I'm not an enemy?”

She stared up angrily at the angelic pegasus before pulling out the tome she’d stolen from her father, stored it away in traveling cloak. “You want to prove you’re not a monster, Zeloph? Then help me save Cozy Glow,” she demanded, snout drawn and eyes narrowed. "That will be a start!"

He inspected the book quizzically, tracing a finger over it’s cover before shuddering. Understanding what the contents of this skin-bound tome were, he nodded. “I’ll look into it. But for now, le͞t͠ ̢us ̷ea̸̸̢t̶̀~̀.”

Cerise resigned herself to this decision as she followed the winged immortal through the cathedral doors.

She would find a way to expose Zeloph to her friends and family, but would reside in this city of black and white, for now.

*****

By the time the Pony of Shadows awakened, his army had arrived in alliance territories. He rose and looked around him. “Cerise? Cerise! Where are you,” he cried, spilling over the pile of books and darting his eyes about the shadowed interior. Finding his daughter suddenly felt far more important than winning this war, despite what was at stake.

Yet from the rustle outside, he realized there was no time. The Dragon Lord was ready for them, and his own numbers rushed in to meet them head-on. The tyrant cursed and hastily slipped into his armor, a sheathed sword placed at his hip.

Kicking open the door, he drew his saber and rushed onto the battlefield, the bloodshed already underway. Magic flashed across skies that darkened and crackled. Weapons clashed. Bodies crumpled.

The outskirts between the Badlands and the desert resembled the myths of Tartarus itself, scarred and chaotic under a black-shrouded moon. But that meant little to him.

Instead, his attention focused on the Dragon Lord himself. Their eyes locked, grim mouths drawn. The former was invigorated by the females he recently mated with that made him burn, the latter pulsed under cold ethereal wisps enhanced by the dark arts.

They rushed to meet each other, the tyrant cutting down the troops that tried to interfere. Spike, likewise, opened his maw and torched his enemies who intervened. Charred and butchered men fell around them until they met in the middle, surrounded by a hellish haze, both sides manipulated to carry out this very moment, where the two heroes would clash.

The Dragon's Lord swung his two-handed, rune-inscribed white blade. The Pony of Shadows raised his own sword, its smoldering, dark arts empowered steel making it swirl in purplish-black flame.

A deafening boom sounded under a clash that momentarily hurled them back. Instantly, they rose skyward to rejoin their crossed swords, snarling in a fury.

“Where is Cerise?!” Barked the Pony of Shadows, sneering as they strained. “What have you’ve done with her?!”

Spike snarled, veins visible on taut muscles as he pushed back, their weapons locked. “Cerise? What kind of trick is this?! We don't have your daughter! You're the one who stole that body and abused her!”

“No! I-I love her,” cried the tyrant, only to be knocked back under the impact.

Spike pressed his advantage, a blow shattering a portion of the tyrant's armor, who groaned and felt a trickle of warm blood flow out a gash at his side.

Emerald flames rushed out of Spike's wide-open maw. More spells battered his musculature. Around them, the battlefield was covered in ground troops and airborne soldiers, magic lightning in the sky, weapons clashing, and striking armor.

The Dragon Lord's numbers were bolstered by mercenaries, including many exotic races from all over Equestria. Griffins, minotaurs, and other races once thought extinct warred.

The mask that housed Sombra hovered above the leaders and watched them duel, both driven to their limits by desperation.

Knocked to the rocky earth, the Pony of Shadows tumbled over-and-over, scraping up his body as he screamed like a wounded animal. Rolling to his boots, he wildly fired off spells that Spike zipped around, the Dragon Lord diving towards him.

A blast of raw energy exploded across Spike's ancient armor, so much a loose portion erupted into fragments. He was thrown off course, forced to momentarily land, a searing mark emblazoned across his smoking muscles.

He knew that had his suit not taken the brunt, the blow would have proven fatal. The Pony of Shadows panted, nearly all his strength thrown into that focused attack.

A searing inferno enveloped the Dragon Lord, howling as his remaining clothes melted under the intense heat that made the air around his chiseled mass ripple. His eyes were pure white, embers dancing off his sizzling scales as his full might unleashed.

Not to be outdone, the Pony of Shadows called on the dark arts, his clothing also shredded by the cold touch of darkness, tendrils rising around his silhouette.

Another spell launched from his fist, only to be swatted aside by the Dragon Lord's blade. “You will return her to me!” The tyrant declared, a hand still raised and glowing alongside his jagged horn.

Rising to meet in the air, the area quaked under the ear-shattering onslaught loosed by the champions. Ashes drifted in the smoky sky. Again-and-again they met and clashed, a blinding explosion lighting the heavens.

Finally one of the opponents was cast down in a smoking spiral, simply to be followed by the other champion, who landed and made a slow advance on the fallen warrior.

“It's over, Pony of Shadows,” Spike huffed as the fires around him died, stumbling towards him and dragging the blade across the ground, sparking as it scraped along the torn earth. Muscular arms started to heft the fiery broadsword, ready to lop the head from his shoulders, if necessary.

The darkness surrounding the Pony of Shadows dwindled, a broken stallion left behind, accepting his fate.

“Both of you cease!” The mask of Sombra intercepted the combatants and floated between them as they met. “Do not forget who the real enemy is!” Sombra insisted, unwilling to let his flesh perish in a needless battle. “Our tru fight is not with each other! It’s with him!”

“Him,” Spike repeated, calming his nerves before he did anything reckless.

“Zeloph,” mumbled the Pony of Shadows. “Did he try and stir up the Demiurge and the Eldritch ghosts, too?”

“Don't think I've forgotten how you've treated my wife, daughter, and servants,” Sombra responded coldly. “We could easily have you tried for numerous war crimes, on top of that. Though.... It’s not like I would have been any different.”

“Yes,” admitted the Pony of Shadows, snuffing out the spell he charged as Spike reached for his war horn. Doing the same, the two blew a tune in unison, a call for a temporary truce, and around them, the sounds of battle slowly died away. “I surrender. Do what me as you will. But please…do whatever it takes to save Cerise!” He trembled all over, overwhelmed.

Fires smoked and burned on a charred war zone, covered in scorch marks and scattered corpses. The masked guards instantly obeyed their master's commands, and his troops fell in line, murmurs between both sides as they wondered if it were over.

Could there possibly be peace between them again, after all the bad blood a mutual adversary had stirred up?

Sombra’s mask approached his battered body, a reflection of his inner, suppressed darkness, tamed by his family. “Why are you so infatuated with my daughter?”

“I do love Cerise,” admitted the Pony of Shadows, slumping his head in defeat. He held his skull, struggling to understand these feelings, once alien to the creature before it inhabited this fragile skin. “I... I wanted to stop. To call this all off, for her sake.... But it felt too late to turn back.”

Spike shook his head. “It's never too late. Sombra's proof of that.” He nodded to the mask. “Maybe there's a way we can all get what we want? But it all depends on you two.” He plucked the mask from the air, presenting it to the fallen tyrant.

“I see,” said the Pony of Shadows between ragged breaths. “We unite into one entity.”

“I will allow you to stay close to Cerise,” offered Sombra. “But in return, you must allow me to be in control at all times. Do you accept these terms?”

“I accept,” said the Pony of Shadows, and Spike placed the mask on the tyrant's face. It temporarily molded to the flesh, then fractured and finally shattered, Sombra glowing in inky wisps and tendrils, brimming with darkness as he rose.

Albeit now he could control it, the pair perfectly balanced and united as one. He clasped and unclasped his fists, intrigued.

Spike wearily studied him. “Are you okay in there?”

He solemnly nodded. “Yes, I’m...I’m back! The Pony of Shadows has settled within me. Now I can start to put things right.”

“Excellent!” Spike sighed in relief. “Do you know what happened to your daughter?”

“No, I can’t put together what happened. Only that Cerise vanished from the wagon that carried me here.” The memories of he and the Pony of Shadows flowed together. “If she's trapped in this mysterious city Zeloph commands, I must rescue her!”

Spike nodded before opening his arms to the dark stallion. “We'll do it together,” he swore, and the two warriors embraced, much to the shock of many onlookers.

The two leaders realized that the Pony of Shadows was amoral by nature, unaware of the weight its actions carried, unable to choose differently until now. Yet the memories of the flesh it inhabited and the affection of his daughter had altered it.

Whatever its crimes, the entity, too, would be given a second chance. And its power combined with Sombra's would allow them to take on the architect of these tragedies.

Both wondered, what awaited them in that mysterious nation that had materialized?

The Dragon Lord and the former tyrant turned to their scattered forces, now united in their determination to end this.

“Soldiers, we head back to the Badlands to regroup with the alliance,” Sombra ordered, saturnine snout drawn. “We must prepare ourselves for the real enemy before us!"