Healing Shadows (2e)

Chapters

02: Commoner and King
03: Heal and Murder
04: Compromise and Grudge
05: Secret and Misunderstanding
06: Trust and Compliance
07: Times and Wavelength
08: Hearts and Clovers
01: King and Commoner

02: Commoner and King

“Ms. Meadowbrook,” a young mare spoke before the healer. “Do you know about Whitetail Willows?”

Meadowbrook shifted her eyes from a clipboard in her hooves. She was amid jotting notes of her inventory in her apothecary shop. A task she would do at the end of every week before she proceeded in her forage through the bayou.

Her business had overwhelmed her home with lines of residents and travelers, prompting her purchase of a building within the vicinity of Hayseed swamp. Her tasks around the shop became less stressful with the aid of her assistant.

“Whitetail Willow?” Meadowbrook repeated. “You mean the trees with white leaves that droop like tails? What do you want with those, Pye?”

The young yellow mare pulled her tail before her. “Pom wants to dye his tail white. He said he plans to use it as a lure for the Firefly Rank. I told him he could use mane dye, but you know how he feels about corporate products.” Pye emphasized by swiveling her hoof near the side of her head.

“So, you want to make homemade dye for him,” Meadowbrook surmised. “That’s very kind of you.”

It had been more than a year since Meadowbrook took in Pye as her pupil. Before the opening of her apothecary shop, Meadowbrook hoped to find a creature to pass down her knowledge of herbs, passed down from generations of the swamp. To her convenience, Cattail recommended his niece, Pye, to her.

She found Pye to have quite the curious mind and persistence. Though she could be a bit impulsive in her actions, Meadowbrook found her moxie and kindness encouraging.

“He kept whining about how he wanted me to persuade you to make it for him,” Pye grumbled, sat, and crossed her forelegs over her pectoral. “Doesn’t he know I’ve been working really hard to become a healer?”

“I’m sure he does, Pye,” Meadowbrook assured her pupil. To emphasize it, she dropped her clipboard on one of many shelves of her brews and hugged her pupil. Pye wagged her tail wildly within her teacher’s warmth.

“Does that mean you’ll help me?” Pye asked.

“Of course,” Meadowbrook confirmed. “But it’ll take some time to make preparations. Willows commonly grow in the Far East of Equestria. I’ll have to ask a friend to collect the leaves for us.”

Pye’s tail halted. A frown plastered on the young mare’s face. “Why can’t we go together? Don’t you think it’d be fun to venture into the east? We could find all sorts of plants and even try out those fancy kimonos.”

“Pye,” Meadowbrook said with an arched eyebrow. “You know, I don’t have time for that right now. There’s no pony else but us to run this shop. Just trust my friend. She’ll get it for us as soon as possible.”

Pye groaned with a pouty face. It nearly tempted Meadowbrook to pinch the young mare’s inflated cheeks. “Fine,” Pye relented.

“You’re so understanding, Sugar.” Meadowbrook then released her hold on Pye and picked her clipboard back up with her hoof. “Now, before I send a request to my friend, I have to go out and forage for some volt toadstools in the bayou. They’ve been going out fast as of late.”

“It’s not that surprising.” Pye hopped beside Meadowbrook as they made their way to the shop’s counter. “I’d think any creature would flock to an energy drink that’s both energizing and healthy.”

Meadowbrook strapped a saddlebag onto her behind the counter and then made her way to the entrance. “Well, it’s certainly added more workload on my plate. I’m going to head out now, so I’ll trust you to close up the shop.”

Pye made a dramatic salute to her teacher. “You got it!”

Meadowbrook breathed in the fresh air of the sunlit swamp. Outside of her apothecary shop, she stood atop a long and conjoined bridge that extended across a broad lake.

The aged woods of neighboring buildings showed its long history within the swamp. For generations, it housed descendants of Meadowbrook’s loved ones. To outsiders hailing from urban towns and cities, this place didn’t look like much. But to Meadowbrook, it meant everything.

This was where it all began for her. From her family, her friends, her purpose, all her roots stemmed from Hayseed Swamp.

When she discovered she missed a whole millennium during her entrapment in limbo, she was heartbroken to never see her old friends and family again. For her, it was a mere moment. But for them, it was their entire life. She never had the chance to say goodbye to them.

Even after two years, she had yet to move on from her regrets. However, she could take solace there was still a home for her to come back. By living amongst descendants of her family, though different in many ways, her family remained at her side through the centuries.

Meadowbrook hummed through the bridge and waved at the residents on their merry day. A young mare draped dampened garments on a clothesline before patting them. A group of stallions took apart wood planks of a now prohibited path of the bridge to replace them with new ones.

Meadowbrook then came upon a red ball that bounced before her. She stopped it in place with a hoof and was then immediately approached by a rushing group of foals.

“Hey, Ms. Meadow,” one foal spoke. “Pass it to me.”

Meadowbrook arched a brow at the foals. “Now y’all know better than to play around on the bridge. You could get yourself hurt if you’re not careful.” She picked the ball up with a hoof and threw it into the hoof of the asking foal. “Why don’t you frisky tadpoles go play on the land where it’s safe?”

“Yes ma’am,” the foals said, taking off without so much as a fuss. Meadowbrook watched them ensure they heeded her words. When they gathered at the coast of the lake, Meadowbrook simpered, pleased with their compliance.

“You sure do have a way with the young ones,” Meadowbrook perked her ears high to a voice.

An old stallion approached her. His languid braids of caramel seemed loose and inevitable to unwound.

“Elder Moab,” Meadowbrook recognized. The sloppy wind of his mane and tail garnered an infamous reputation around the swamp. Neighbors would gawk at him with perturbed looks at Elder Moab’s messy braids. They would often offer to fix it. Despite his stubbornness to tend his braids on his own, Meadowbrook and the rest of Hayseed Swamp still honor him as their chief of the bayou. “Good afternoon.”

“And a good day to you as well,” Moab reciprocated the gesture. “I see you’re on your way to the bayou. Good thing I get to see you off. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, I’m just fine. Pye’s closin’ up the shop while I’m heading off to the swamp to collect more volt shrooms to brew. It’s been very popular as of late.”

“Aw yes, that.” Moab stroked his long goatee. “That special herb of yours has attracted a lot of outsiders. Hopefully, they don’t take our mares and stallions away with them.”

“Don’t be like that. I think it’s important that every pony follows their heart.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t like to go without familiar faces for a long time.”

“I understand what you mean,” Meadowbrook said, a small frown wedged onto her face. “You get this bad coldness in your body when you find the ponies you’ve known for so long are no longer around to greet you every morning.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about me going anywhere,” Moab assured. “Place just wouldn’t be the same without an old coot like me.”

“You shouldn’t call yourself that,” Meadowbrook chortled. “You’ll end up making that a new nickname from the young ones.”

“Hah, I wish they would,” Moab gloated. “Anyway, I know you got a long day ahead of you. Make sure you’re finished before the night arrives, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

After a bow, Meadowbrook continued her journey to the bayou. Though her mind would often ail of longing for the past, she took solace that there was still a home she could come back to. As long as ponies continued to thrive in the bayou for generations to come, Meadowbrook felt assured she would never be alone.

The musky smell of the humid dirt made Meadowbrook nostalgic of her younger days. She remembered many forages with her mother, who taught her of the many plants, creatures, and winds of nature within the bayou.

Meadowbrook found it hard to believe that the swamp had changed little over the centuries. The same critters and trees littered the place, almost like a timeless sanctuary.

Her sight darted upon neon shrooms emitting small sparks beneath the large roots of a tree. She crawled near the plant and picked it out from their stalk, where the bolts were mostly weak. She dumped the shrooms in a rubber pouch she fastened tight to ensure none of the bolts would escape.

These were indeed the volt shrooms she was looking for, but this batch wouldn’t be enough to satisfy demanding customers. If the shrooms weren’t so common in the swamp, she would find it troublesome to remove so many from the biome.

Continuing her forage, she noticed a small cluster of volt shrooms near a river.

“Oh no,” she gasped, her face riddled with concern.

A few wouldn’t cause much harm, but with their fast growth, it could quickly become a hazard.

Meadowbrook picked the stalks of the volt shroom and then dug beneath the dirt to tear out its mycelium. By nipping its roots, she hoped to control the direction of its growth. Guiding it away from the water was the safest bet to prevent danger.

As she continued to tear out the mycelium, an odd sound suddenly caught her attention. A sizzling sound of something being roasted vibrated in Meadowbrook’s ear, garnering her attention. “Hm?”

She traced the sound through a shrub and then gaped before a strange black sludge. Its body shook gelatinous and appeared to have white dust trickling off from a region of its skin. “I’ve never seen a thing like you here in the bayou. What are you?”

The sludge remained still under Meadowbrook’s sight. Curious, she neared the creature, hoping to see more of its composition.

The sludge suddenly pounced on her, causing the mare to yelp. Instinctively, she swiped the creature away with a hoof. She sent the sludge flying into an opening of the sunlight, where its skin singed under it. The sludge moved sporadically to escape back into the shade.

“Oh,” Meadowbrook gasped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The black sludge shivered wildly, unnerving her of what could be going through its mind. However, she took a breath to collect herself. “Don’t worry, I can fix you right up.”

Meadowbrook withdrew a small jar from her saddlebag and attempted to approach the sludge again. It tried to move away from her, but its movement was as slow as a slug.

Without difficulty, she scooped the creature inside of her jar. When she tightened the lid on the jar, she beheld the sight of the creature. The inside of the sludge was like a bottomless void that had no end. An endless pit of darkness too thick for her eyes to see through.

She’s never seen a creature like this in the bayou. And as her mother told her, when something new entered the swamp, it’d be highly important to watch its activity closely in order to ensure the safety of the swamp.

So, Meadowbrook made a decision. After she healed the mysterious creature, she would debate whether it’d be safe to allow it to roam the bayou.

03: Heal and Murder

Dusk painted the bayou when Meadowbrook returned to Hayseed Swamp. The populace outdoors had thinned since the afternoon. The villagers were now resigned in their homes having dinner and preparing for a good night’s sleep.

A nice setup for Meadowbrook’s sake.

However, there were some village residents that were still outside, some either looking up towards the moonlit sky or chattered with each other.

The strange glob of darkness she found earlier had been rumbling up a storm in her bag. If not for the lack of activity at this time, then the glob would’ve attracted unwanted attention. And the last thing she wanted to do was cause hysteria amongst the village because of an unknown specimen lurking in their swamp.

As Meadowbrook moved, she eluded the eyes of residents by traveling within the shadows of night. She went unnoticed like a changeling in disguise.

As much as she wanted to join her folk in their jolly talks, the creature in her bag was her top priority.

When she finally arrived at the front of her house, she rushed inside and quietly shut the door behind her and let out a sigh of relief. Sneaking about was not a forte of hers, but her many adventures with her friends in the past had taught her the bare basics.

Her bag then rumbled and banged again on her side. Meadowbrook clutched her bag to hold it steady.

“Easy now,” Meadowbrook said, struggling to keep her bag still. “I don’t mean you any harm. I promise.”

As if her word gave some sort of magical command, the creature had settled down.

After feeling assured that the creature’s compliance, Meadowbrook lit her chimney with a pile of twigs and sticks. With warm flame and light to soothe her, she sat before a work table against a wall.

She took out the jar containing the black creature from her bag. When she laid the jar on the table, the creature thrusted its body against a wall of the jar, nearly tipping it over before Meadowbrook caught it.

“Goodness,” Meadowbrook sighed. “You shouldn’t do that. What if you get cut by broken glass?”

Anxious for the creature to repeat its tumble again, Meadowbrook collected books from her bookcase to prop around the jar. No more rolling and tipping for it anymore.

Happy with her railing, Meadowbrook proceeded to her closet. After sifting through its contents, she pulled out a wide fish tank Fluttershy had given to her. It was meant to be a gift to Meadowbrook after sharing her fondness of reptiles.

However, that hope was long forgotten once she established her apothecary shop. With her business booming and a student to teach, caring for a pet now might not be in her best favor.

She carried the tank atop the work table. It was half her length, making her wish she had another pony around to help her lift it.

She took a breath afterwards and then noted the creature had remained idle. Whether it recognized it was hopeless to push the stacked books away or became curious about the fish tank, she couldn’t tell.

But now came the tricky part.

Meadowbrook sheathed her hoof in rubber boots before cautiously opening the jar. She quickly slid her hoof over the now open lid before the creature could jump out.

Meadowbrook quivered at the strange vibration the creature rang upon her hoof. She couldn’t determine whether it was trying to bite her or melt her boot, but she wanted this feeling to end as soon as possible.

Meadowbrook motioned her hooves to slide the fish tank open. She slid her rubber hoof off the lid for the creature to fall inside, dropping on a bedding of pines.

After shutting the lid to the fish tank, Meadowbrook neared her face to its glass walls to meet the creature.

“I hope this place is cozy for you,” Meadowbrook said. “Why not get a feel of it?”

But instead the creature pounced toward her face, causing her to flinch and fall on her back. She rushed her hooves over her body to find her assailant, but discovered it was nowhere on her person. She looked above her table and found the creature splattered onto the glass wall, sliding down like a wet stain.

Her lungs were rough for a brief moment before she could collect herself and get back on her hooves. “Come now, dear,” Meadowbrook sighed. “You can’t keep makin’ a fuss like this. What if you worsen the burns on you?”

She gave it a stern look, peeved that it spooked her. Strangely, it was back motionless. She raised her brow at its sudden compliance. A petty part of her mind thought it was regaling at successfully intimidating her. But, maybe it’s something else.

Meadowbrook cautiously neared her face to the tank again. She stared into the still creature’s being, seeing a neverending blackness within. However, she did find tiny bubbles circulating mysteriously within it.

What is it doin’? Meadowbrook thought.

She wondered if the creature was prepping for another escape attempt. But the idea left her when it could’ve done so a long time ago within the jar.

“Are you trying to tell me somethin’?” She asked.

Maybe this was its form of communication. Or maybe it’s a body reaction toward something in its environment? Or within itself?

Meadowbrook went to her pantry to collect an assortment of fruits and vegetables. The closest Meadowbrook could link this creature to were slimes. And if her knowledge of them was correct, slimes were omnivorous.

She dropped her bundle of food next to the tank. She picked three strawberries from her person and dropped them inside the tank before hastily shutting the lid of the tank closed.

“Here you go,” Meadowbrook said. “These are strawberries. They should be good for you, right?”

Despite the strawberries laying helpless before the creature, it did not move.

“It’s okay,” Meadowbrook assured the creature. “All I want is to fix your wound. And you won’t get any better without a healthy diet.”

A strange silence rang between the two for a small moment. She could not tell whether it was contemplating her words or still plotting another escape.

But then it moved, dragging itself over the pines. Its body climbed atop a strawberry and sprawled over it like a glaze topping. Meadowbrook perked her ears up to the sound of sizzling resounding underneath the creature. It sounded like a fresh carbonated drink that refused to settle.

She saw the creature’s body gradually descend back on the pines , leaving the strawberry blackened before it withered to dust. Her eyes gaped astonished at the creature. It was like the creature sapped the life out of the strawberry.

She feared to imagine what would have happened to her if she did not have her rubber boot on.

The creature continued to feast on the other strawberries, decaying them to bits. Black sprinkles of their remains decorated parts of the pines the creature walked upon.

“Where did you come from?” Meadowbrook wondered aloud.

Wherever it sprung from, Meadowbrook could make one conclusion in her head. This thing was definitely too dangerous to leave to its own devices. She could only hope that this was the only creature lurking in the bayou.

An invasive species of these decaying slimes would mean bad news for the villagers. She may need to call in Starswirl or Princess Twilight in that case.

She yawned. All this anxiety in her mind was taking the wind out of her. And that was no good for her.

Meadowbrook made her way into her bedroom, dropping her saddlebag aside. She tossed her body in bedy and shrouded herself in her bedsheets.

Meadowbrook has a lot more work on her hoof in the morning. To ensure the safety of the bayou, she had to be sure none of this creature’s brethren were crawling around.

Her eyes lazily wandered to the saddlebag she unceremoniously dropped.

“I didn’t even get enough bolt shrooms for tomorrow,” She berated herself.

Away from her bed, Meadowbrook saw the creature had finished the strawberries. Feeling it was content, Meadowbrook shut her eyes and let the darkness take hold of her.

◇◇◇

“Look at me!” Pye boasted. “Aren’t I making this look easy?”

Meadowbrook watched her student stir a stick inside a pot, which was full of mashed white herbs. She laid a hoof on Pye’s to slow her round motion.

“Easy now,” Meadowbrook advised. “You don’t want the mixture to get too soft.”

Meadowbrook had received a small patch of whitetail willow in a package. It was sent from her close friend, Zecora, who hoped to meet Pye someday.

Their friendship came as a surprise to the pair; established by the call of the cutie map. After their brief venture into the savannah, they had spent months exchanging letters and material to combine their studies.

For some time, Meadowbrook planned on taking a trip to the Everfree Forest in the coming months to visit Zecora. Her friend’s many tales of hosting Nightmare Night, and Meadowbrook hoped to take part in it.

Meadowbrook planned on bringing Pye with her, knowing her student liked giving others a good natured scare every now and then.

Pye continued to mix the herbs within the pot while singing a favorite shanty of hers. Before she became Meadowbrook’s student, she lived with her family within the islands in the Far East of Equestria. Next to catching fish and clams to trade with the griffin kingdom, celebrating the days and nights with music was a habit of her islanders.

Meadowbrook noted the light green hues of the mix becoming bleached white.

“Okay Pye,” Meadowbrook said. “That’s good enough.”

“Yes ma’am,” Pye singsong. She let go of the stick and hopped around Meadowbrook. “So, what’s next? Are we going to find something else to mix it with? Ooh, would we have to travel somewhere in Equestria for it? Can I come?”

Meadowbrook grabbed Pye from her back and clutched her close between her hooves. “No Pye,” Meadowbrook said. “Next, we'll need to refrigerate the mixture so that it can thicken.”

“Oh phooey,” Pye sulked. “But I want to go foraging. Something fun always happens when we do that.”

“ I love gettin’ outta the hut as much as you do, Sugar. But, we can’t forget the reason we’re doing this in the first place,” Meadowbrook reminded her. “Now, why don’t bring a container for us to store it in?”

Meadowbrook released Pye from her grip. Her student skipped a small distance and faced her teacher to give a salute. “Yes ma’am!”

Pye skipped off into the back room of the apothecary shop. Meadowbrook couldn’t help but chuckle at her student’s moxie. That young filly was just so expressive with her words, and it was something she took so much delight in.

When Pye first began her apprenticeship, she struggled understanding the basics of herbal making. However, her comprehension slowly accelerated over time and until it ascended to advanced teachings. Pye’s growth from a novice to a veteran astounded Meadowbrook to no end.

Sometimes, Meadowbrook wondered if Celestia had a similar anomaly with Twilight considering the fact that she mentored the young princess.

Putting the thoughts aside, Meadowbrook took in the surroundings her apothecary shop provided. It was the perfect setting to educate Pye. It held all the necessities, and the provided opportunities for Pye to interact with the village folk was a bonus to her growth. At this rate, it won’t be long untilPye transitioned from a student to an inheritor of her shop.

Knock, knock, knock.

Meadowbrook became alerted to a sound resounding from the entrance door.

“That’s strange,” Meadowbrook said. “I could’ve sworn I put up the closed sign for the afternoon.”

Meadowbrook made her way to the door and answered it. Her eyes went wide at the stallion that waited before her. He was a huge and burly stallion that was as tall as Celestia. His light golden beard and blue eyes shimmered under the sunlight.

“Rockhoof,” she said with surprise.

“Aye,” Rockhoof said with a bow. “It’s good to see you, Meadow.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you here today.” She stepped back from the entrance and welcomed him inside. “Come in, come in.”

As Rockhoof entered her shop, she began to take in his garment. He wore a slim black blazer over a clear white shirt.

“Don’t you look professional,” Meadowbrook commented.

Rockhoof glanced at his outfit with a frown. “Ah, it’s no choice of mine. My agent had been howling at me like a ravenous timberwolf to look more educated for my book signings.”

“That must be exciting. Meeting your fans all across Equestria.”

After Princess Twilight decreed Rockhoof as a storyteller, a new contemplation came over him. He loved to share his tales to the creatures of Equestria, but he knew he couldn’t continue making live appearances forever. To ensure the longevity of his stories, he tried to record them in a book.

Rockhoof sought his friends for feedback and they were honest of its many flaws. Though Rockhoof was an astounding orator, it did not show well in paper. At least he took it well.

However, to overcome his failing in writing everything out himself, he looked to the aid of a ghostwriter to record his tales. He spent weeks with this pony, sharing all of his life stories to be written for creatures in the far future.

Many anthologies of his adventures became popular through Equestria. There was no place in Equestria where a copy of his books wouldn’t be found, even beyond the land’s borders.

“At times, yes,” Rockhoof admitted. “But nothing is more nice than coming back here. It’s the only place that reminds me of the old world I was born in. I’m glad to see this town hasn’t changed much.”

“Ms. Meadow,” Pye shouted. She came rushing with a container on her head. “I got it!”

When she laid the container on a table next to the pot, she immediately caught sight of Rockhoof. A big smile came on her face before she galloped to Rockhoof and pounced on him for a hug.

“Hi Rocky!” She cheered.

“Good day, Little Pye,” Rockhoof responded and hugged her back. “What’s got you in a rush, by any chance?”

Pye backed away and nodded toward the pot of mixed herbs. “I’m making dye for a friend of mine. He’s going to color his tail to catch fishes in the Firefly Rank.”

“Using his tail as a lure, eh?” Rockhoof said while stroking his beard. “ I wouldn’t mind seeing if his endeavor’s successful.”

“Does that mean you’re joining us?” Pye excitedly asked, now pressed in again in Rockhoof’s personal space.

“I hope so.” He made a brief glance at Meadowbrook, who had stored the mixture in the container. “It would mean the world to me.”

◇◇◇

Sombra stared into the waning light of the sun. Dawn had broken and the night was soon to come.

A shame he could not traverse the darkness that was his companion. Not with this accursed tank to trap him in place. Instead his jailer subjected him in this shallow tank hidden behind a dark blue cloth. However, that did nothing to impair his vision. A perk perhaps for donning this form.

Regardless, Sombra had been stuck inside of the tank for a week now. Each day he would be a subject of Meadowbrook’s testing, always providing him with random sustenance and altering his environment in little ways to see how he would react. All so she could unravel the secrets that rightfully belonged to him.

The gall of that mare.

Sombra swore to himself that he would make her regret her actions after he regained his body. And the time may not be long.

Whenever the mare left him alone in his tank, Sombra had been experimenting with his body. A strange sensation had aroused in him days ago.

He honed in on this sensation until it mysteriously sprouted a limb from his form. Capable of retracting and growing it back, it pricked Sombra with intense pain. However, he persevered to experiment with this development.

But the time for experimenting was going to end now.

Sombra prepped his mind for what was to come. He harnessed the sensation within his unknown form and expounded it with all his strength. He recoiled from the pain, but he was determined to push his ability to its limit.

Two limbs shot out his form, striking the tank hard enough to tip over the ledge of the work table. Glass shattered and littered the floor as before he hit the ground himself. He seethed in pain as glass shards pierced his new skin.

But he kept honing on his sensation. He needed his vengeance. He needed to get out of here. He needed to reestablish his empire.

He needed to get her back.

You’re so weird, Sombra. A mare’s voice chuckled in Sombra’s head. But then again...I’ve always liked that about you.

“Radiant,” Sombra gurgled.

His body formed. A neck sprouted out from what he assumed was the front end of his body. His grown neck was immediately followed by a head that spat out black liquid, which gushed out of him like blood.

His body became numb and his newfound ears rang loudly. He could barely keep in touch with his surroundings. But even so, he limped and crawled his forming body through the house.

All he needed to do was reach the door.

“Radiant,” he repeated. His skinny hooves snapped and rattled, but they reformed again and again.

As he neared the door, his vision became clouded more with darkness. His mind grew empty and started to swirl, unable to retain a clear.

“Hope...”

Sombra reached for the door with a hoof. However, his vision became distorted and it seemed the door was fleeting away from him. Though he wanted to give chase, he could see the darkness consuming his sight.

His last reach ended with a pitiful fall on the floor. And there, Sombra fell unconscious, a prey to his darkness once again.

04: Compromise and Grudge

Meadowbrook returned home when the moon strayed the sky. Her time with Rockhoof extended through the afternoon and evening—learning of each other’s changes in the new era.

Residents of Hayseed Swamp greeted the pair with wonder and grins. Their gossip flourished like a herd of young mares that befuddled Meadowbrook. She wondered what got them so chatty.

Regardless, Meadowbrook enjoyed her time with Rockhoof—gazing at the rivers, browsing goods from a port marketplace—reminiscing of the times they ventured with their friends. She wondered what her friends were doing on this very night.

Meadowbrook entered her home and draped her saddlebag upon a wall hanger. She collected a book from the bag. It held contents of slime species, hoping it would help unravel more about her mysterious guest.

She held the book around her forehoof and searched a shelf to light a match. However, she came to a stop when her ears perked to hoarse breathing within the darkness of her home.

Meadowbrook gazed tensely at the dark space before her.

“Is someone there?” she asked, growing nervous.

Meadowbrook heard no reply. She stood idle at the entrance, waiting for another breath to validate her fret. But she heard nothing.

She began to feel silly about her anxiety.

Maybe I’m just so plum tuckered out from the long day I had, she thought to herself. I must be hearin’ things...

She entered the dark space at her side to grab a match. After lighting a candle, she managed to peer through the dark. But what she found before her...left her in utter astonishment.

A stallion laid before her.

His eyes shone red like rubies and his irises were slit like a cobra. Meadowbrook noted the ferocity behind them—an unbridled rage that could explode at any moment. And that moment came swiftly when the stallion pounced at her.

Meadowbrook let out a scream and swatted her hoof wildly. It struck hard against the stallion’s face, swerving his body away from her.

Meadowbrook became alerted by the large thump beside her and backed away from the downed stallion. Exposed by the open moonlight, she became aware of the stallion’s lanky form.

“Who are you?” Meadowbrook asked.

But the stallion only groaned in response before falling unconscious. Realizing that she wasn’t going to get answers out of him, Meadowbrook decided to discover them on her own. She approached the stallion and examined his body. His muscles were weak and frail.

She noted malnourishment from the stallion due to his bones perking under his skin. She also noted the body resounding a constant snap like a rusted crankshaft.

But what bothered her the most was his horn. It was long, curvy, and held a red gradience upon the top of his forehead as if it had been steamed hot. Meadowbrook had never seen this from a pony.

All except one.

“Sombra?” Meadowbrook wondered.

She backed away from the stallion, aghast at her discovery. She went to her window and looked out at the luminant night befalling her village. Her neighbors had already taken shelter for the night—all relaxed and getting in their beds.

Meadowbrook wondered if she should alert them now. Based on Sombra’s condition, she doubted he could do much harm. However, his presence still raised an emergency.

She turned around and observed him with her back leaned against a wall. His body shivered from the wind blowing inside like a newborn chick. With his small body, there was no way Sombra could maintain good body heat.

Meadowbrook looked out the window again, contemplating her next move. She sighed. “Fine.”

◇◇◇

Stirring back into consciousness, Sombra felt something warm and soft enveloping his body. It confused him. He’s never felt something so comfortable since his dreadful existence as a pitiful blob of shadows.

What is this? He wondered.

His eyes flickered at a light that continued to vex him. He wanted so badly to snuff it away and drown further into his comfort. However, his instincts forced him awake when he saw a ceiling made from oak.

Sombra looked over layers of bedsheets buried atop him. They must be weighted because he could barely push them off his neck.

“You’re awake,” Sombra heard a voice. One he annoyingly became familiar with during his entrapment in this house.

Sombra shot his eyes at Meadowbrook, sitting before a worktable where Sombra had previously spent his days.

“It’s you,” Sombra growled.

Meadowbrook smushed baskets of fruits within a wooden bowl. Her face was indifferent to the rage spewing from Sombra.

“And you must be the blob I was takin’ care of,” Meadowbrook responded. “You made a big mess by breaking my tank. That was a gift from a friend of mine, you know.”

“Don’t patronize me about your belongings,” Sombra sneered. “Not after the horrid experiment you put me through. I shall see to it that your transgressions do not go unpunished.”

Sombra tried to get out of bed, but his body flinched at a sharp pin echoing throughout his body. It even squeezed a yip out of him—an unbecoming noise from a conqueror.

“Don’t move,” Meadowbrook warned, her voice stern yet gentle. “The glass shards left many cuts all over your body. It took me nearly an hour to pick ’em out of ya.”

Against Meadowbrook’s warning, Sombra heaved the bedsheets down. Never would he imagine fabric could confine him so well. His body ached and begged for him to stop, but Sombra would not allow his pride to be tested.

When he finally pushed the bedsheet from under his forehoof, he gaped at his form.

His body was wrapped in stripes of bandages. Hints of red stain through its layers. Despite all of this, what unnerved Sombra the most was the mare staring at him with disapproval.

“A smart foe would not tend to the wounds of their enemies,” Sombra said. “Mercy is a weakness to be taken advantage of.”

“Are you sure you’d want that?” Meadowbrook questioned. “Because I’m positive you’d have bled like a sack of flour with a hole at the bottom if I left you on the floor.”

“What I want is for you to suffer for using a king as a guinea pig. It was not only painful, but extremely humiliating and degrading for me as a pony.”

“I’m sorry if that’s how you felt.” Meadowbrook apologized as she continued to mash up the fruits. With the strength of her strikes, Sombra believed she could easily shatter bones. “When I saw ya lookin’ like a wasted pile of pudding, I didn’t know what to think. I never saw anything like ya in the swamp, so I wanted to make sure you weren’t a danger to others.”

“Well, you village bumpkin. As you can see now, I am not,” Sombra sneered. “I am Sombra, King of the Crystal Empire and Conqueror of Equestria.”

Despite his eerie introduction, Meadowbrook continued to liquefy the fruits in her wooden bowl.

“I figured as much,” she said matter-of-factly. “I don’t know anypony else with a weird-looking horn like yours.”

“My horn is not weird!” Sombra raised a brow. “Do you not fear me? I just told you who I am.”

“Yes, you made that clear to me. But I’m not all that worried, given your condition. You can’t even fight your way out of bed.”

“You dare insult me!” Sombra slammed his hoof on the bed and devoted all of his energy to push the pain in his lungs down. “I...I shall make you rue the day you underestimated me.”

Meadowbrook eyed Sombra. “I just told you not to move around. Are you tryin’ to open up your wounds?”

Meadowbrook ran to the side of the bed and pushed Sombra back in, pulling the sheets beneath his neck.

“Hey!” Sombra cried. “Don’t you dare push me around!”

“Then stop throwing a tantrum like a foal. You’ll only make things for yourself.” Meadowbrook sternly warned him.

“You dare insult me again!?”

Meadowbrook flicked his shoulder with a hoof, causing him to stifle a yelp. Sombra rushed a hoof upon his shoulder, desperate to soothe it.

“Your body is severely malnourished,” Meadowbrook informed. “You won’t be doing much of anything without the proper nutrients and growth. So, if ya don’t mind, sit tight and let me take care of your body.”

“It’s not like you’re helping,” Sombra countered. “What kind of healer inflicts pain on a patient?”

“Ones that have to deal with brats who don't know how to behave themselves, that’s what.” Meadowbrook returned to the table and grabbed the wooden bowl.

Sombra eyed the mare when presented with the bowl of mashed fruits.

“Here,” she said. “Eat this.”

Sombra glared at the glistened slob of red. “How do I know you didn’t plant any poison in this?”

“Because if I wanted to, I could do so with my bare hooves right this moment.”

Sombra grumbled at her response and welcomed the mashed fruits. Though he didn’t fancy commoner food, he could not refute his hunger. Once he slurped a sip of it, he was unable to hold himself any longer from gorging all of its contents.

Meadowbrook held the bowl before Sombra as she smiled at his feast. “See, that wasn’t so hard. Just remember to pace yourself. You wouldn’t want to choke yourself.”

When Sombra finished his meal, Meadowbrook pulled the bowl away and laid it on a small table next to the bed. When their eyes met again, she noted his confused glance—with bits of the fruits stained under his lips.

“Why are you helping me?” Sombra asked.

Meadowbrok quirked her brow. “Do I need a reason for doing so?”

“Do you not pledge allegiance to Princess Celestia? I would at least expect a mud pony to recognize her enemies.”

“I’m not the type of pony that waits for others’ permission to do something. If there’s someone in need of help, I’ll help them. Even if they’re ponies with a shady history.”

“Such foolish reasoning,” Sombra chuckled. “You should just admit that you have been taken by my charm. Though the prospect of sharing a bed with me is even more hopeless.”

Meadowbrook shot a glare at the stallion and then pressed her hoof on his shoulder again. His body flailed in response to the sharp pain jutting from the pressure. And to Sombra’s greatest dismay, he let out another yelp.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice but to help you,” Meadowbrook explained. “You sprouted out of nowhere in this sorry state of yours on the edge of death. How else would you expect a healer like me to react?”

Meadowbrook finally relieved Sombra from her hoof as he desperately tried to soothe his shoulder again. Sombra promised this act would not go unpunished.

“Then what should I expect tomorrow?” Sombra asked. “Do you intend to wrap me as a gift to your dear Monarchs?”

“The obvious thing for me to do is report you to Princess Twilight,” Meadowbrook stated. “Though, I don’t like the idea of leaving you in this state. It just doesn’t feel right to me.”

“Ah, so you don’t intend to nurse me back to health.”

Meadowbrook raised a brow. “Do you take me for an idiot? You’ve made it clear that you intend to use my kindness against me. If I’m to heal you, I need to get some insurance, so you won’t try anything funny.”

Sombra watched Meadowbrook ponder from away the bed, making him anxious. “I beg your pardon! What is going on through that bog of a head of yours?”

Meadowbrook ignored his complaint and mashed her hooves together. “That’s it! That’ll work.”

“Don’t ignore me, you swine! I command you to tell me your thoughts now.”

“You should focus on getting some rest,” Meadowbrook advised. “Your body will never leave that bed if you keep stressing it.”

“Don’t give me orders, mare! Who do you think you are!?”

Meadowbrook raised her hoof above him, causing the furious conqueror to shut silent. “Now Sombra, I plan to fix you up. But, if I have to be rough with you, then I will.”

“…filthy witch,” Sombra grumbled.

His remark earned him a double-tap from Meadowbrook’s hoof, eliciting a screech from the proud conqueror that night. He could only play that the sleeping residents of Hayseed Swamp did not wake to his humiliation.

◇◇◇

“Ms. Meadow, are you okay?” Meadowbrook perked to the sound of a mare’s voice. She shook her head from behind the counter of her apothecary shop and recognized a mare before her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Meadowbrook said. “You were looking for banana oil, right?”

“Well, yes,” the mare confirmed. “But I’m more concerned about you. Are you doing alright? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Meadowbrook feigned a chuckle. “Now, I think I have a pack at the back. I’ll get 'em for ya.”

Meadowbrook left her worried customer and returned with bottles of oil. The mare purchased a fine morsel for herself and her family. The mare thanked Meadowbrook with a hug and cautioned her to get some rest. Meadowbrook nodded to the mare’s advice as she waved the mare goodbye.

When Meadowbrook turned from the entrance, she was faced by Pye. The filly eyed Meadowbrook.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Pye asked.

“What?” Meadowbrook feigned ignorance. “I just spaced out for a bit, that’s all.”

“Which isn’t a normal thing for you.”

“It’s okay, Pye. Like the mare said, I just need some sleep. That’s all.” Meadowbrook rounded her pupil and returned to the counter.

“So, you haven’t gotten much sleep. Are you having a nightmare that’s keeping you up?”

In a way, you could say that. Meadowbrook thought.

“Let’s not worry about that,” Meadowbrook urged. “We should focus on finishing your whitetail dye.”

Pye shook her head. “Can’t do that. Not when my teacher has been restless for the last few days.”

Meadowbrook wished Pye would drop this. She already had enough of a headache as it was back home.

“Shouldn’t your concern rest with your friend?” Meadowbrook reminded her. “The Firefly Rank isn’t that long from now.”

“Hey, have there been any changes at home?” Pye asked. “This couldn’t have happened randomly.”

“It’s not a nightmare, Pye,” Meadowbrook snapped. “Goodness, you’re not going to let this go, aren’t you?”

“Course not,” Pye admitted. “You’re important to me. I can’t leave you to deal with this by yourself.”

“Well, it’s not cute,” Meadowbrook complained. “…Who am I kidding, it’s sweet and adorable.”

Pye threw her fore hooves atop the counter and stared at her teacher like an excited pup—in fact her tail was wagging like one. “So, what’s the problem?”

Meadowbrook sighed, knowing she had lost the battle. Even if she dismissed Pye now, she knew her student would do some snooping behind her back.

“Fine, I’ll talk,” Meadowbrook complied, “But first, tell me this. How good are you at keeping secrets?”

◇◇◇

“What took you so long!” Sombra yelled at Meadowbrook.

She had just entered her home. Right as she stepped out of the doorway, she was immediately barraged with complaints from Sombra. She could already feel another headache coming.

“Can’t you learn to be more polite?” Meadowbrook asked. “You can’t always be this rude. Doesn’t it get tiring?”

“Enough talk,” Sombra snapped. “I demand edibles, now!”

Meadowbrook’s left eye twitched. After a breath, she approached the stallion from the bedside and pinched his shoulder, causing him to stir wildly in his bed.

Pye then entered the house, befuddled by the kingly scream. Finding Sombra, she rushed to his side and peered into his crimson eyes. Sombra leaned back from the filly, unnerved by her closeness.

“Who are you?” Pye asked.

“Is it not obvious? I am Sombr—” His introduction met a swift end by a strong pat from Meadowbrook. Instead, came another of his proud yelp of pain.

“He’s a traveler,” Meadowbrook answered. “I found him injured deep in the bayou. He’s been lost for weeks without help.”

“That sounds terrible!” Pye gasped. “Is he going to be, okay?”

“Of course,” Meadowbrook assured. “Though, his mind concerns me. He doesn’t remember who he is.”

“Do you accuse me of having amnesia!?” Sombra asked, offended.

“I accuse you of having an ego that makes you unhelpful,” Meadowbrook countered. “For someone who boasts of being royalty, you act more like a bratty colt.”

“You guys are weird,” Pye chuckled, swiveling her sight between the two. “Y’all make a fun pair.”

“Fun?” Sombra questioned. “What part of fun do you see in this? Can you not see that I am being abused by this charlatan?”

“Be nicer and you may actually come to like me,” Meadowbrook advised.

Meadowbrook’s mind grew jaded fast over the days of enduring this stallion’s constant drivel. Always complaining of the smell of her home, her rural dress, her audacity to how she approaches him. She found it astonishing how she hasn’t gone insane yet.

She found Sombra to be the most unruly patient she ever cared for, and that was even considering the fact that he demanded the most outrageous things from her. Of course, she did not comply, only seeing to his safe recovery. But dear Celestia did he know how to work her nerves.

“So, is he the reason you’re spacing out at work so much?” Pye asked.

“His body requires extensive care, and his personality makes a grumpy alligator more preferable to be around,” Meadowbrook explained. “But I promise, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“He looks so bony,” Pye commented, tapping his leg from above the bed sheets. “Either he couldn’t find any fruits at the swamp, or he had a leech on him for days.”

“A fair assessment, but no. Regardless, he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

“If you’re done with your baseless opinions, I demand to have consumables!” Sombra said. “Is this how you treat your other patients?”

Meadowbrook poked Sombra’s skin again, prompting another yelp out of him. “If you have nothing good to say, then don’t say anything at all.”

“Ms. Meadow,” Pye asked, Meadowbrook directing her eyes to find her pupil with a confused look, “Why are you being so mean to him?”

“It’s called discipline, Pye,” Meadowbrook said. “Most ponies would know how to behave themselves, but there are some that leave us no choice but to give tough love.”

“You know nothing of me, mare,” Sombra argued.

“I know that you are a stallion-foal (man-child).”

“And you are a mare that needs to be shown her place!”

“Are you two flirting?” Pye asked, earning a confused glance from Meadowbrook and Sombra.

“What in Equestria would give you that impression?” Meadowbrook asked.

“Well, my mom told me that ponies who fight with each other a lot usually like each other.”

“Oh please,” Sombra said, rolling his eyes. “This backwoods mare is beneath me. Only those of noble blood are worthy of my affection. Giving myself to her would be the greatest gift of her life.”

“I probably wouldn’t get much if I trade you to a pawn shop,” Meadowbrook bickered.

“I am not some cheap salvage to be thrown away!”

Pye giggled. “You two are funny together.”

“Look Pye,” Meadowbrook said, placing a hoof upon her pupil’s shoulder. “I only intend to help him until he can walk on his hooves again. After that, he’s going to take a trip to Canterlot.”

“Okay,” Pye nodded, then stared at Sombra again. “But why does he have a ring on his horn?” Pye pointed at a ruby ring fastened to Sombra’s horn.

“It's so he doesn’t try anything funny,” Meadowbrook explained. “It’s just me watching him after all.”

“I’ll have you know she placed it against my will,” Sombra added. “If anyone is doing the harassment, it’s her.”

“I see,” Pye said. “Can I help?”

Meadowbrook couldn’t help but look to the right with a giggle. Her initiative to jump to others' aid always warmed her heart.

“I can handle this grumbler just fine,” Meadowbrook assured. “But if you really want to help, then it’d be nice if you can take charge of the Apothecary shop for a little while. It’d give me more time to have peace in mind.”

Pye saluted. “You got it!”

“Who cares about your silly medicine shop?” Sombra mouthed. “Why not just give me a remedy to move my body already?”

Meadowbrook sighed in exasperation, “If there really was a potion to help you get movin’, I would’ve gladly given it to ya so that I could throw you out the door. But there isn’t such a thing.”

“You’re supposed to be a great healer, right?”

“Yes?” She responded with a quizzical glance.

“Then hurry up and heal me then!”

Meadowbrook placed her hoof on him again. “If anything needs to be healed,” Meadowbrook said. “It’s that nasty attitude of yours.”

05: Secret and Misunderstanding

Sombra cringed at his aching bones. His thin legs shook upon his small weight and trembled from the cool air. His body fumbled so much on his hooves that he feared he would collapse like a falling tower.

Meadowbrook apparently shared his concern because she followed him within a close distance. However, this only caused his nerves to skyrocket. Sombra refused to display any more signs of weakness. Not before the mare who had been lording over him.

His struggle served as brief exercises to rebuild his muscles. A simple walk to the wall and back to his bed. Sombra spent longer than he would like to admit reaching the wall, but he was finally halfway through his endeavor. He just needed one more spur of energy to complete his lap.

“Do ya need some help?” Meadowbrook offered. Her hoof extended out, ready to grab him should he fall.

Sombra gritted his fangs at Meadowbrook. His pride refused to accept aid from a commoner—despite the care he received from her the past two weeks. He was a fearsome ruler that implanted fear into all of his foes, even the alicorns who led rebellions during his conquest. To dwell in such a backwater land vexed Sombra and he refused to welcome any further besmirch to his name.

His rage gifted him the energy he desired. He trudged onward atop the wooden floor, careful to not be pricked by the planks. Its simple surface shot a brambly sensation upon the bottom of his hooves, sparking a worrisome thought that a trail of blood may eventually follow his small steps.

But despite his steel will and cautious steps, his balance inevitably crumbled and unceremoniously fell his chin to the ground. And to add more salt to his wounded pride, Meadowbrook came in front of him to grab his sides with her forehooves.

Meadowbrook hoisted Sombra upright like a dog who stuck itself within a hole. It bothered Sombra that he had to rely on an earth pony just to get up from the ground. However, he’d much prefer not to drop upon the poor wood again.

Yet despite his need for help…

“Unhoof me you cretin,” Sombra demanded. He put his forehooves against Meadowbrook’s chest and tried to pry Meadowbrook’s hold off him, but her grasp was much too strong and firm against his thin mass.

“Will you just quit struggling already?” Meadowbrook complained. “I swear, you act like a fish out of water whenever I help you.”

“The day I stop struggling will be when you quit overstepping your boundaries!” Sombra sneered before pushing against her chest with his hooves. “Honestly, what do you hope to accomplish by holding me this way? Do I look like a newborn puppy to you?”

His flailing and wild push upon Meadowbrook’s chest annoyed the peaceful healer. Knowing that he would see her way, Meadowbrook allowed her dark thoughts to take over.

“Fine then,” Meadowbrook sighed and then released Sombra.

His fall was sudden, leaving him no time to pick up the pride that fell and sprawled across Meadowbrook’s floor. His body clamored to the floor like fallen lumber. His brief shock cascaded into an eruptive rage as he glared upon Meadowbrook.

“You dare defile me again with your ruddy floor!?” Sombra snapped. Not even the aching pain resounding throughout his body could stifle his rage. And despite that, Meadowbrook stood indifferent to his anger.

“ I thought ya didn’t want me oversteppin’ my bounds?” Meadowbrook chaffed. Her remark earned a wild rattle from Sombra’s snout.

He gritted his fangs and stood upright. His ruby eyes sported a scarlet shimmer Meadowbrook imagined vamponies from novels would bear. If not for both its ferocity and its beholder, she might have actually found it beautiful…

“I dare you to speak to me in that tone again,” Sombra challenged. “I may not have my magic, but don’t you dare think you are safe because of it. I have more than just magic within me.”

His harrowing threat came on deaf ears to Meadowbrook, who only sighed in response. Her disappointed expression had somehow become the greatest stab into his pride.

“Always defiant even when it’s not necessary,” Meadowbrook said with an eye roll. “Doesn’t that get tiring?”

“Don’t lecture me, mare,” Sombra retorted, his legs still teetering upon his weight. “The only thing that’s tiring around here is your constant disrespect towards me.”

“Respect is something to be earned, not given. Now, if you’re done complainin’”—Meadowbrook grabbed hold of a bottle of alcohol and rag from a nearby desk and approached Sombra—“I need to fix up those bruises on your legs.”

Sombra had not noticed the blemishes on his leg till Meadowbrook applied alcohol upon his legs. His pain surged indiscriminately throughout his body so that he could distinguish between them.

Sombra flinched at the stings of the alcohol but decided to endure it for the betterment of his health. Despite living under Meadowbrook’s tyranny, he could feel his strength slowly returning to him.

“Now why can’t you be more like this?” Meadowbrook said between patting the alcohol with a napkin. “You’d save the both of us a lot of trouble if you were more compliant.”

“Because I am not some pet for a pony to frolic with,” Sombra countered. “I am a king. Ponies are meant to be compliant with me, not the other way around.”

“Ever think that mindset is why ya don’t have many friends?”

Sombra turned his face away from Meadowbrook in response. As he waited for Meadowbrook to finish her perfective application of the alcohol, his eyes explored the hut—filled with old furnishings, books, and scientific tools. He’s stared at this place for so long and the only thing that earned his fixation was the strange mask hooked upon the wall.

A yellow and blue mask that drooped like the beak of a bird. Such a creation confused Sombra yet pulled his intrigue.

“What is that?” Sombra pointed at the mask.

“Hm?” Meadowbrook traced the direction of Sombra’s hoof. “You mean my mask? It’s an heirloom passed down by my family.”

“I did not know commoners shared that kind of practice.”

Meadowbrook raised an eyebrow. “Really? It’s no different from a hand-me-down.”

“It is an odd item to inherit,” he commented. “Why is it designed in such an odd way?”

“It was made long ago when a plague struck this village,” Meadowbrook explained. “A great-grandmother of mine carved it as a protection against the illness as she researched for a cure to save her friends and family.”

“Seeing as ponies still lurk in these woods, I presume she was successful.”

“That she was,” Meadowbrook nodded in agreement. “From her success, she decided to whip up antidotes for many illnesses that would spring from the swamp. That was where my family line of healers of this village began.”

Sombra stared blankly at Meadowbrook. A smile had found itself upon her lips. Perhaps from her muse of the past. However, he couldn’t explain the strange warmth building within him. His body still lacked the fat to maintain good body heat.

“You seem proud of your bloodline,” Sombra said. “But I guess that should be expected. It is something you ponies will always have me beat at.”

Meadowbrook snapped from her nostalgia and frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“Is it not obvious? There is no one like myself in these lands. No parents or relatives that I could relate to.”

“I once had a friend that fiddled with shadows. It literally consumed him.”

“But I am a shadow,” Sombra countered. “A being of darkness that fears the gleam of crystals, for it is the bane of my very existence. And because of it, I was always looked upon as a freak to others.”

Meadowbrook gaped incredulously at his words. “You were an outcast!? By your fellow ponies?”

“Fellow?” Sombra chuckled as he leaned upon a table, no longer capable of carrying his weight. “I was but an orphan found in white space of snow. Who knows how long I was out there? But certainly, no normal foal could last a minute out there alone.”

“Then,” Meadowbrook started, feeling unnerved to ask, “What are you?”

Sombra lifted his lanky hoof, finding traces of blackness swarming his coat like a trail of fire. “What indeed.”

The sun blessed Hayseed Swamp again with its warm light. Elder Moab strode on the bridges and watched the residents live out their day—fishing, chatting, draping clothes, and making trades. For decades, Moab had walked this space and witnessed the growth of the village residents. Contributing as much wisdom he could spare to them; Moab was confident he carved their growth into fine ponies so that they may lead the next generation.

Moab saw them all as his foals. The young ones would look to him for advice whenever they had personal troubles, which garnered him quick popularity amongst them. It was either that or they liked it when he’d make herbal candy with the use of plants and sugar.

Moab would often visit the homes and workplaces of ponies to either spark conversation or be notified of their daily goings. Their stories would always rub a smile on his face—no matter how wild or mild.

As Moab continued his lulling gait amongst the folks of Hayseed Swamp, he eventually came upon Meadowbrook’s apothecary shop within the distance. He was very attentive to Meadowbrook ever since she reunited her community. The shock on her face when she witnessed the new generation walking through the bayou was still fresh in his mind and so was her blank silence when she paid her old folks respect to their graves.

Meadowbrook held up a strong front—showing compassion and maturity to the lives who have passed on—but Moab saw through her façade. He sensed her pain and loneliness. To find out that the villagers who had grown alongside her had lived out their lives without her before passing on undoubtedly struck a pang in Meadowbrook’s heart.

Moab was determined to help her feel welcome and belonged in the modern world. He believed that no pony should ever feel alone especially one as compassionate and caring as Meadowbrook.

Spurring with youthful energy to spread his love, Elder Moab doubled his steps to Meadowbrook’s shop. However, as he neared the shop, Moab found Meadowbrook exiting it.

Pye followed behind her and waved Meadowbrook goodbye as her mentor disappeared within the residents. Elder Moab curled a brow at this. Her store certainly did not close around this time.

Moab hastened before Pye, garnering her attention with a wave. The young filly sported a wide smile and rushed him for a hug.

“Hi Moby,” Pye greeted, tightening her hooves round Moab. Moab had always found her expressions to be heartening, but they can be excessive for this old stallion. He swore he could hear a bone snap from the filly’s tight tug.

“Good day, young Pye,” Moab responded and reconciled with her hug. “ Have things not been busy at the shop today?”

“Oh no. It’s always bustling with creatures,” She assured him, “Although I think some of them might have a crush on me.”

“Who could resist you?” Moab chuckled. But as he separated from Pye, his expression stiffened. “But with so many folks in the shop, why would Meadowbrook be heading off?”

“That?” Pye gazed off where Meadowbrook disappeared. “Oh, Ms. Meadow is just headin’ back home to fix up a pony. She found a traveler that got himself in a pickle while in the swamp.”

“That sounds awful,” Moab commented. “I…wait, did you say ‘himself’?”

Pye happily nodded. “Yes sir. He’s a really funny stallion. Says all sorts of weird stuff that gets Ms. Meadow riled up. I think Mr. Rockhoof might have some competition.”

“I see,” Elder Moab began his walk, following Meadowbrook’s trail. “Young Pye, might you excuse me? I think I should meet this new stallion in town.”

“Cease at once!” Sombra shouted as he resisted Meadowbrook’s push against his body. “I demand you let go of me this instant! I refuse to let you besmirch me like this!”

“Dear Celestia,” Meadowbrook grumbled. “How many times are you going to fight me on this? We’ve done this plenty of times already. Stop acting like a foal and get in the tub.”

“You call that a tub!” Sombra pointed at the wooden bath filled with water. Hints of green can be found floating atop its surface. “That rubbish is meant for only backwater mud ponies like yourself.”

Meadowbrook twitched an eye. And with no pretense, Meadowbrook shoved Sombra hard into the tub, sending him headfirst into the warm water. The water bounded his senses so tightly that he felt moments away from drowning till Meadowbrook lifted him out from his neck. Sombra gasped hoarsely for air.

“Oh, sorry about that,” Meadowbrook apologized with a flat expression. “I guess I don’t know my own strength.” Meadowbrook then proceeded to grab Sombra’s hoof and use a nearby sponge and soap to scrub Sombra’s frail body.

Sombra tried to struggle out of Meadowbrook’s hold, but each time he fought her was rewarded with a vice grip from her that made Sombra howl in pain.

“ Insolent witch,” Sombra groaned. “I won’t stand for this!”

“So, you don’t mind smellin’ like an earthworm? Wow, I didn’t know the fearsome conqueror held an affinity for such fragrance.”

“The last thing I would want is to smell like your kind,” Sombra decried. “A king such as myself is not allowed to be mired in such poverty.”

“That’s herbal water you’re gettin’ soaked in.” Meadowbrook picked out the downy leaves littered across the water with a hoof. “They help nurture the skin. You should be grateful for the long forage I did to gather them.”

“Why should I thank a nurse for doing her job?” Sombra snapped. “If you’re so desperate for praise, then I suggest you”—Meadowbrook silenced him by gushing water atop his head with the sponge. He spat out water that found its way onto his tongue— “at least warn me before you do that.”

“With how much you like to make fun of folks, it’d be impossible to speak up.”

They continued to berate each other until Sombra begrudgingly resigned to his bath. A moment of peace had finally filled the air when they eventually quieted from their tirade.

Brushing across Sombra’s obsidian silky mane mesmerized Meadowbrook. It held a slow flow similar to her princesses, but with a ghastly gait, she imagined to be reminiscent of a ghostly wisp. It was eerily beautiful.

Meadowbrook frowned. “Wasn’t there at least one pony in your life that kept you company? I can’t imagine anypony not havin’ a single bit of companionship.”

Sombra leered at Meadowbrook. “Why do you care?” he asked. “To you, I am a selfish villain that is meant to be vanquished and banished into the darkest depths of Tartarus.”

“That’s not true!” Meadowbrook countered. “What would you call my actions for the last two weeks then?”

“An odd sense of pity.”

“Of course, you would think that,” she sighed.

“However, I wouldn’t mind regaling your feeble mind of my past. Though I require something in exchange.”

“I’m not removin’ the ring from your horn if that’s what you’re wantin’ me to do,” she immediately stated, earning a snort from Sombra.

“Then cease your nagging about my past.”

“You really ain’t good at small talk, are ya?”

As Meadowbrook continued to scrub Sombra, she wondered what she could possibly do to reach this terrible stallion.

Why did she care to try in the first place? It would have been so much easier to toss his fate to the princess.

His attitude certainly didn’t make him a great companion to be around. And yet, she funneled all her energy and knowledge towards him.

My mom told me that ponies who fight with each other a lot usually like each other. Pye’s words suddenly echoed into Meadowbrook’s head.

Huh? Was all Meadowbrook could respond with. Did such comment even deserve consideration? There was no way Meadowbrook could believe such a silly statement. She’s not like one of those city ponies that will fall for those bad stallions they tend to flock at. Meadowbrook was a mare with a practical lifestyle.

She didn’t need some eccentric stallion to fill the void in her life. Especially not some petty, foolish, inconsiderate, rude, potty-mouthed stallion without an ounce of respect for others.

Knock knock

A knock upon her door snapped Meadowbrook from her thoughts. The sound befuddled her. She did not expect any visitors at this hour.

“Pye, is that you?” Meadowbrook called.

“Meadow,” Meadowbrook perked to the voice of Elder Moab. “I heard you came home early today. I’ve been told you have a stallion in your care.”

Meadowbrook felt an unruly cold shiver in her bones. Almost out of instinct, Meadowbrook yanked Sombra out of the bath bowl and threw a towel over him.

“Hey!” Sombra complained. “What do you think you’re doing!?”

“I need you to go to bed right now,” Meadowbrook hastily instructed. “Just pretend you’re asleep, okay?”

Despite her demand, Sombra resisted her. She didn’t need this right now. “I am not some object you can do whatever you wish to.”

“Can you please stop your complainin’ and just listen to me for once?”

“Meadowbrook,” Elder Moab spoke, knocking harder upon the door. “Is everything alright in there?”

“Sombra, just get in bed,” Meadowbrook hissed. “You’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Meadowbrook gripped upon Sombra’s hide, eliciting a yelp from him. However, Sombra powered through the pain and kicked Meadowbrook’s hindhoof, miraculously tripping her with his thin legs.

Before she could recover from her fall, Sombra immediately pounced atop her. His infamous grin was painted on his face.

“I told you my magic was not my only strength,” Sombra said. “You were a fool to leave yourself open.”

Before Sombra could continue to mouth off on Meadowbrook, the door suddenly slammed open. Elder Moab rushed inside, ready for a fight.

“Meadowbrook!?” Moab shouted. “Are you alright!?”

His sight fixed upon Sombra, who was standing atop a downed Meadowbrook. He gaped upon them as if he found the pair in a compromising predicament.

“Elder Moab,” Meadowbrook started. “Uh…this…this isn’t what it looks like.”

“This old stallion is what gave you a fight,” Sombra chuckled. “He could do far less to you compared to what I am capable of.”

His gloating came to a swift end when Elder Moab rushed towards Sombra and shoved him off from Meadowbrook. The surprising power in Moab’s force sent Sombra’s lanky body flying to the wall as he crashed and rolled limply on the floor.

“What do you think you’re doing to her!?” Elder Moab angrily asked.

His eyes were fierce and savage.

However, he would not receive an answer from Sombra. His sudden attack sent Sombra’s mind into another realm as his body sprawled lifeless on the ground.

“…I think you might’ve hit him too hard,” Meadowbrook said.

Meadowbrook knelt before Elder Moab in anguish. Never had she wanted to make herself feel small after all these years as she received a hefty scorn from her elder. She felt like a foal being lectured of her misdeeds.

“What bogged you to think it was okay to harbor a criminal in your home!?” Elder Moab yelled at a glum Meadowbrook. “Do you not realize the danger your secret would bring us?”

“I’m sorry, Elder Moab,” Meadowbrook apologized, unable to draw strength to raise her head to meet her elder. “But he was in such a bad state when I found him. I couldn’t just leave him to rot.”

“Do not boast of your generosity so hastily, mare,” Sombra croaked from within his bedsheets. Meadowbrook had winded a sling across his hoof that became dislocated after Moab’s assault. An event Sombra would desperately want to keep a secret from his foes. “Have you not forgotten that I am no mere pony?”

“No mere pony is capable of such cruelty as him,” Moab said. “Which boggles my mind as to why you’re helping him.”

“Elder Moab,” Meadowbrook started weakly. “Please, just hear me out. I know he’s an awful pony. But I have my principles as a healer to help others in need, even if they may not deserve it.”

“And did that require you to hide him from your neighbors?” Elder Moab questioned. “You should have told us the moment you learned who he was.”

“M-maybe,” Meadowbrook said in a low voice. “But I just couldn’t hoof him off until I knew he recovered.”

“And what then?” Elder Moab stomped his hoof. “The moment his strength would return, he’d take advantage of you as soon as the chance arose. Not only would you be hurt, but none of us would be prepared for the tragedy he would have planned for us.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Meadowbrook snapped with a rise from the ground. “Everyone here in Hayseed Swamp is precious to me. I would never let him hurt them.”

“And yet I found him atop you when I burst in.”

“No, that was…”

Moab sighed. “I’m going to send a letter to the princess. His presence should never be kept hidden from her.”

Meadowbrook only dropped her head, resigning to her defeat. “…I understand.”

“Well, you certainly gave up easily,” Sombra commented. “So then old stallion, what befalls my fate?”

“Until Princess Twilight arrives, you will remain under our arrest,” Elder Moab stated. “I will have our strongest fishers keep watch of you as Meadowbrook continues to tend to your health.”

Meadowbrook beamed incredulously at Moab. “You’re gonna leave him in my care?”

“He may be an awful pony, but I can’t in good conscience allow a pony to die when something can be done about it. However, I will expect something in exchange.”

“And that is?” Sombra asked.

“Since you’re confident your body will heal up, I’m guessing you ought to need some exercise to strengthen those bones.”

“Do you intend to make me do labor?” Sombra said, aghast. “Me, a king?”

“Either that or no food. No pony who contributes to the village is deserving of food.”

“But I don’t think he’s ready to go outside yet,” Meadowbrook said. “For the weeks I’ve had him, the sunlight has been trouble for his skin.”

“Sensitive to light, eh?” Moab suddenly pulled the sheets blocking out the sunlight.

Sombra flinched at the sudden light overwhelming his form. He expected his body to contort and melt in pain. But strangely, he felt nothing. Sombra stared in awe at his body, his dark coat glinting from the sunbeam.

“He looks fine to me,” Elder Moab commented.

Despite his relief that the sun did not fry him, that also entailed his demise under the old stallion’s ruling.

“Oh goody,” Sombra grumbled.

“When his hoof heals, Meadowbrook, I want you to take Sombra into town” Moab instructed. “It’s about time the neighbors know who's been hiding among us.”

06: Trust and Compliance

Sombra was hesitant to poke his head out of the house. After his gruesome experiences of being scourged by the sunlight, his pride took into consideration his hesitance. The darkness was the essence of his being and light threatened to evaporate his existence and turn him to nothingness again.

Even after surviving his tactless push from the old stallion into the sunlight, he couldn’t wholly believe his immunity. Meadowbrook was gentle to walk him into the light. Despite their adverse relationship, even she shared his concern.

“Don’t push yourself now,” Meadowbrook urged him. She kept close to his side—much to his annoyance—to offer herself as a railing. As much as Sombra wanted to push this mare away, he couldn’t risk losing his balance before all the mud-ponies that would behold his presence. He would have to settle pouring his weight onto the mare.

But he could not stifle his frustration. His frail body and need for another’s aid vexed him. It was because he was weak that he couldn’t fight back against those who rejected him. Those who found him grating because of how different he was.

Sombra needed the power to rival against his adversaries. He needed to prove there was worth to his existence. And that she was not a fool to believe in him.

“I am not a simpleton, mare,” Sombra spat at Meadowbrook. “Just focus on your role as my escort. Even a poor mare like yourself should manage a simple task.”

“I don’t care what you say to me,” Meadowbrook snapped. “But you better pick your words more wisely when we see the others. Everyone at Hayseed is going to be shocked when they find out you’re here. The least you could do is not plant anymore fear than what will already be there.”

“They should fear me. My name as the tyrant king was meant to strike terror into the hearts of ponies. No one will think twice to disrespect me once aware of my majesty.”

Meadowbrook frowned at the lordly stallion, earning a humph from him. What else could this mare possibly expect from this millenia old dark sorcerer?

“Not everypony is like that, Sombra,” Meadowbrook argued. “If you could show at least an ounce of kindness , you’d would see that.”

The begrudging pair made their way across the bridge of Hayseed Swamp, immediately amassing talk amongst the residents. Folks sitting before the water curved their gaze at Sombra with a bewildered look. Foals skipping and playing catch with a ball stopped and gaped aghast at him.

Sombra could hear them voice their worry about his lanky body and the young ones marveling at his crippling form. He couldn’t help but chuckle at their concern. The fools had no idea of the tyrant that was walking through the steps of their home. Perhaps Sombra might find some delight when they realize his identity.

He had to find some enjoyment in this after all.

“Don’t glare at them,” Meadowbrook warned after catching him giving the foals a nasty look that made them flinch. “You’ll make things more complicated.”

“Don’t lecture me, mare,” Sombra countered. “I shall express myself, however, I”—Sombra grunted when Meadowbrook kicked his forehoof. The pain was so acute that he limped onto Meadowbrook, prompting the injured tyrant to glare at him— “Stop doing that!”

Meadowbrook dragged Sombra toward a round platform connected between two bridges. Sombra found residents—ponies, griffons, and donkeys—assembled around the center.

Meadowbrook anxiously led Sombra into the crowd as the throng began to take notice of Sombra. Their initial mutters loudened along with their befuddled looks. Sombra knew it would get worse. It was inevitable.

Sombra readied his soul and body for their look of disgust and fear. Everyone he came to know would eventually adorn their face with it. Once they know his name, they would show it. For what they imagined him to be.

When Meadowbrook guided Sombra near the center they became the sole attention of the mass. Their attention immediately shifted when the elder joined the pair. Elder Moab entered the center from the opposite of Meadowbrook and Sombra with a pair of burly stallions at his side. Each of the burly stallions wore a drenched bandana and smelled of lake water.

Sombra couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Was this all that the old stallion had to offer him? A pair of backwater fishers? These were the best warriors he could summon to defy Sombra? Perhaps he should have expected this from a rural town of commoners.

Moab creased his forehead at Meadowbrook and Sombra. “Can the fella not move on his own?”

Sombra attempted to distance himself from Meadowbrook and assume a royal posture to squash Moab’s doubt. He refused to be mocked by an insignificant creature. However, Meadowbrook reeled him back in and gave the elder a small smile.

“His muscles haven’t fully recovered,” Meadowbrook answered. “But he's improving.”

Elder Moab brushed his beard and stared at Sombra’s thin legs. His meticulous eyes annoyed Sombra, feeling as though the old stallion was judging him for having a mare lug him around. Sombra would make sure that the old stallion regretted the thought.

“I see,” Moab said. “Then we should get on with our gathering then.”

“And what exactly are we ‘getting on with’?” Sombra asked, bearing his ruby eyes at the two burly stallions.

He noted the two sharing an odd look. They appeared too relaxed around Sombra, a mistake he wished to make them realize.

To his annoyance, Meadowbrook took notice of his glare and shoved her hoof against his side. Sombra recoiled at the impact and gritted his fangs to quell his yelp. The gall Meadowbrook had to restrain him continued to infuriate the former king. She would suffer the worst of his wrath.

“Can’t you take this more seriously,” Meadowbrook hissed at Sombra. “How everypony will feel about you may decide whether I can continue to heal you.”

Moab invited Meadowbrook and Sombra to the center of the platform. Sombra could now see the dirty faces of ponies, griffons, and donkeys staring at them. Each held a mixture of confusion and curiosity that would no doubt be replaced with dread in the coming moments. An expression he grew used to all his life.

“Thank y’all for coming here on such short notice,” Moab began with an eloquent tone that surprised Sombra. He imagined a more noble pony to carry that fashion. “I know all of you have things to do, but I could not postpone this.”

It’s coming, Sombra thought.

The face of scorn and terror would very soon be painted on their faces. His heart was ready for their daggered stares. He steeled himself with the thickest darkness in his soul that not even the mighty Celestia and Luna could impale.

His body stiffened as he boasted a royal posture. With his thin chest puckered out, he tried to assume as much power in his form as he could manage. He would show that he did not fear them. In fact, it was they who should fear him.

Sombra alerted all his senses to stand his ground. The smell of wet grass and the humid air flowed through his nostrils. The sound of croaking frogs and humming insects in the background reverberating in his ears. The blistering cold of a gentle wind that he powered through to prevent a quiver from his skin.

He felt incredibly uncomfortable. It’s no wonder he was so attuned to the warm touch from Meadowbrook at his side. The mare dared to hold his hoof as if attempting to console his mind.

Sombra had lived a life of war and discrimination. He endured the discourtesy and denial of ponies. His pain served as power to his strength, giving Sombra the might to stand against the superpowers of Equestria. Sombra was not a stallion in desperate need of comfort from a boonies mare.

And yet, Sombra could not summon the strength to swat her hoof away.

“You all must be curious about the new visitor standing by Meadowbrook,” Moab continued. “Well, he is a pony that none of us would have dared nor wanted to foresee.” Moab paused and took a glance at each of his neighbors. Sombra assumed he was gauging their reaction. He judged it as a fruitless endeavor to worry about. There was only one way they would feel about this. “This thin stallion y’all see before you is somepony who brought disaster and despair upon many innocent lives in the past. He...is Sombra.”

Mouths of the crowd dropped to their neck and their eyes bulged widely as if they were given a rude awakening. Sombra could sense the majority wavering across their aura. Perhaps that was to be expected. With his lanky form, even he would doubt his identity.

“This stallion here is the one who locked the Crystal Empire from the world and threatened to conquer our land with an iron hoof. A terrible pony walks amongst our home.”

“Elder Moab,” Meadowbrook interjected. Her voice earned the instant attention of the residents that made pause for a moment. The tuft of anxiety did not escape Sombra’s eyes. “I think we all know of his crimes. But can’t ya see he’s in no shape to cause anyone harm? His body’s as weak as a limp noodle. He needs healing. And as a healer, it is my duty to help all creatures in need. And just maybe, I can also mend the illness of his ways as well.”

“What do you mean to mend him?” a pony amongst the crowd asked. “Did you know he was here?”

“I…yes, I did,” Meadowbrook admitted, sparking voices from the crowd to resound wildly amongst the air. Sombra noted her body stiffening. Perhaps she tried thickening her soul as well. “I found him many days ago in the poorest of health. His body was so sensitive to sunlight and he was as malnourished as an orphaned newborn foal. I couldn’t just toss him aside..”

“Your passion as a healer is not an excuse for bringing danger to our home,” Moab countered. “You placed too much faith in a pony undeserving of your kindness. He could have taken advantage of you in the long run. And if he succeeded before anyone else found out, your secrecy would spell a great disaster for our swamp.”

“I only wanted to make sure he was in stable health before he faced his crimes,” Meadowbrook tried to argue, but the quiver in her voice exposed her lack of confidence.

Sombra felt the conflict festering within her—she could no longer look the crowd in the eyes.

But Sombra did. The shock in their eyes came as a surprise to the former tyrant. To witness the betrayal of their favored healer who contributed to their community must have etched a stain in their trust in her. All because of her foolish kindness.

“I have written a letter for Princess Twilight,” Moab announced to the crowd. “Once she’s received it, she will no doubt come here to resolve the matter of our visitor. It may take some time, however. I’ve received word that the Princess has left Equestria for a worldwide meeting with many creatures across the lands.”

The crowd talked and shouted amongst each other in panic. Their anxiety washed his skin so viciously that he felt like a changeling gorging upon a bountiful pile of love. It’s a shame he could not harness his magic to convert this newfound fuel to power.

However, there was a more pressing matter at hoof that boggled Sombra.

“Did you say you would send a letter to Princess Twilight?” Sombra asked the elder. “Do you not mean Princess Celestia and Luna? They are the sole rulers of Equestria, are they not?”

“It’d figures you wouldn’t know,” Moab bleated. “Princess Celestia and Luna retired from the throne some time ago. The crown has been passed on to Princess Twilight.”

Never had Sombra blinked his eyes so rapidly. The words from the old stallion came so strangely upon Sombra that he had to believe that he was dreaming.

That had to be it, right?

All of these had to be ridiculous facets that designed this poorly drawn dream.

“What?” was all Sombra could utter.

“I didn’t know Princess Twilight would be out,” Meadowbrook said, letting go of Sombra’s hoof. “How long will she be gone?”

“That I do not know,” Moab admitted. “But until then, we must all be vigilant of our visitor. We as a community must work together to ensure he won’t hurt any soul residing in this swamp .” Moab took Meadowbrook aback when he gave a serious glance at her. “Meadow, I don’t want you keeping him coddled in that house of yours all day. I want him out in the light where everyone can see him. And I definitely don’t want you living all alone with him.”

“Elder Moab, I promise you I can take care of myself. I won’t let him try anything nasty.” Meadowbrook insisted.

“I’d like to believe that, Meadow. But I can’t. Not when I found him pinning you to the floor earlier today.”

Meadowbrook became pale at the many gasps echoing around her. The redness swelling on her cheeks brought a small joy in Sombra. It was about time this mare learned some humility.

“That was just an accident!” Meadowbrook shouted. “You caught me at a bad moment and I panicked, so I made some missteps.”

No, it definitely wasn’t a misstep, Sombra thought. I pinned you to the ground with the intention of exacting my dominance. Your desperation to protect that pathetic pride of yours entertains me, mare.

“A misstep that never would've happened if you hadn't hidden him away from us,” Moab countered. “Meadow, I am your elder and your chief. To ensure the safety of our brothers and sisters, you must listen to me.”

The serious glare coming from the old stallion’s chestnut eyes quaked Meadowbrook’s resolve. For somepony mentioned to be legendary, she was certain she’d break under the pressure. Even if it was from somepony she regarded with respect, Sombra found it unbecoming of her.

“But I…” Meadowbrook began but halted when she finally looked at her neighbors. The mixture of disapproval and shock on their faces deflated whatever power she had left in her. She drooped her head toward the ground and resigned with approval of Moab’s order, “Yes, Elder Moab.”

“Thank you, Meadow,” Moab said and then faced Sombra. He would find that Sombra was not somepony he could so easily frighten. “These folks mean a lot to me. I have lived with them since my foalhood and watched younglings grow into fine creatures. I won’t tolerate you harming even a single hair on any of these villagers, you hear?”

“Cease your pathetic bravado, peasant,” Sombra said with a neutral gaze. This old stallion did not deserve a reaction from Sombra. Not him nor the burly stallions that glared daggers at him. “Your words mean nothing to a king.”

“You are not a king here,” Moab retorted. “And don’t think you’ll be lounging lavishly at Meadow’s home anymore. Now that you’re with us, you’ll have to work in order to earn your grub here.”

“…you weren’t joking about the labor work, weren’t you?” Sombra had dropped his guard and shown a sweat of dread. How could he not? To not only be lugged around to that mare’s whims but to also provide his services for others. The very thought of it cringed the depth of his soul.

“I don’t want to hear any complainin’ out of you,” Moab said. “Princess Twilight is not here to judge your punishment. So, we’ll have to make do with my own decree for the time being.” Moab turned back towards the crowd. “We’re finished here. Everyone go back to your home and shops.” Moab then pointed at the two burly stallions beside him. “And you two. I want y’all to join Meadow at her place to see if anything suspicious was left by this dark sorcerer. I’ll find someone suitable to help Meadow at her house.”

One of the burly stallions nodded at the elder. “You got it.”

“He looks so bony,” the other burly stallion said. “I bet he’d break like a twig if I poked him.”

“Is that a challenge?” Sombra growled at the burly stallion.

Meadowbrook shoved her hoof at his side again, causing Sombra to limp onto her.

“Will you stop that already?” Meadowbrook warned. “The last thing you want to do is rile everyone up.”

Despite Sombra’s refusal, Meadowbrook grabbed Sombra’s hoof and left with him, with the two burly stallions following behind them. Sombra desperately wanted to lay waste upon them, hearing their petty insults behind his back. Despite his thirst to unleash his unbridled rage, it would seem the rage of Meadowbrook’s pinching hoof did wonders to quell.

“Like it or not, you gotta learn to sheathe those fangs of yours,” Meadowbrook scolded him. “Everyone will be watching you, so you better make the best of your stay here rather than getting on everyone’s bad side.”

“And what would be the point,” Sombra countered. “Their faces showed exactly what I expected out of them. Besides, what exactly do I have to look forward to? It would seem as though my fate has been sealed.”

Sombra mysteriously chuckled, earning a frown from the mare.

“What’s so funny?” Meadowbrook asked.

“To think that the Royal Sisters have finally resigned from their duties in my absence. Either they are foolish to underestimate my return or time has finally taken its toll on them. Regardless, the world has apparently changed without me yet again.”

Meadowbrook gave Sombra a long look. It baffled him that she would care. Here she was standing beside a stallion who struck terror into the hearts of many and all she could offer was a concern for him.

“We’ll never get the time we lost,” Meadowbrook said. “All we can do is make the best of what we have now.”

Despite Meadowbrook’s attempt to cheer him up with her empty words, he could sense bitterness coated in her voice. He knew Meadowbrook did not believe in those words herself.

07: Times and Wavelength

Author's Note

Special thanks to A Man Undercover for their godly patience with me. I am underserving for your continued kindness.

07: Times and Wavelength

“Come on Som, you gotta keep up the pace,” Pye cheered Sombra, excitedly waving at him as if he was a distant spectacle she wanted to garner attention from.

The thin tyrant begrudgingly trudged towards the filly through the aisle of Meadowbrook’s apothecary shop. He cautiously moved his hooves, anxious to fall onto another of Meadowbrook’s shelves and topple her organic products again. He already endured enough of a mouthful from the mare as it was.

Speaking of which, Sombra was painfully aware of her constantly staring at him from the counter of the shop. Meadowbrook greeted the guest that circled around him. She held a seemingly serious conversation with them that was annoyingly too faint for him to hear. All of them took glances at him, but none dared to look him in the eyes as she would.

Did she fear for her precious pupil around Sombra? Was she concerned that he would corrupt this filly’s naive mind using his knowledge of the dark arts?

Sombra chuckled at the thought of this. Such a feat would no doubt be foal’s play for him. However, to have some common mudpony serve under him left an icky taste in his pride. If Sombra were to assemble servants, he would only approve of the most beautiful and dapper. They would need to be worthy of serving so closely to his splendor.

As Sombra frolicked in his thoughts, he failed to avoid a sharp pain when Pye tapped hard on his hoof. Sombra recoiled from the pain and rushed to soothe his hoof with the other. He then glared his ruby eyes at the filly.

“What!?” Sombra questioned her.

He displayed his sharp fangs at the filly, hoping to instill fear into her. He could not allow this act to pass unpunished.

Despite the grizzly face he gave, Pye appeared wholly unaffected by him. In fact, the filly approached him and rose up to grab a hold of both his cheeks.

“You can’t be spacing out like that, Som,” Pye said. Her reaction knocked Sombra into confusion. Did this filly not understand a threat when she sees one? “How’re you gonna remember all the herbs we sell if your head’s in the clouds ?”

Sombra swatted the filly’s hooves off from him. To his surprise, it required more force than he liked to admit. Either his body was taking far longer to recover or these country fillies had different anatomies compared to regular ponies. Thankfully, he did not need to exert any supernatural force to get his way. It would be best not to alarm the burly stallions observing him from a distance.

The two stallions who stuck close to Elder Moab enlisted themselves as security for Meadowbrook’s shop. However, their services were not solely meant for potential robbers and hecklers. No. This senile stallion had the audacity to make these muscle-heads his wardens.

The sheer thought of this enraged Sombra. But what was he to do? Sombra needed his body to recover if he hoped to match with their physique. Magic was not an option for him as long as he had the accursed ring adorned on his horn. With his current state, his predicament was the poorest it could possibly be.

Well, that’d only be if the princess arrived before he was restored to his prime.

Sombra could only hope that the tides would shift to his favor. He needed something miraculous to save him from this harrowing state. He couldn’t allow his pride to endure this shame forever.

“We gotta do everything we can to help Ms. Meadow,” Pye said with a puffed chest. “This is your first day, so I want to do everything I can to get you accommodated with the place. Hee hee, I always wanted to use that word. Accommodated,” Pye giggled at the word.

Sombra took a few steps away from Pye. He refused to give this filly another opportunity to touch his face.

“I am not here to be the servant of a mudpony,” Sombra retorted. “I’ll have you know that this unusual punishment is forced upon me by your leader.”

“Oh Somby,” Pye attempted to pat her hoof on his side, the tyrant instinctively took a step back from her. She still did not lose her smile. “You’re thinking about this the wrong way. Don’t you see that this is your chance to make friends?”

Sombra raised a brow at this.

“A lot of ponies come here to buy Ms. Meadow’s herbs,” Pye waved at the aisle of shelved jars and casings. “This was the best way for me to introduce myself to everyone here. It’s how I met my best friend, Pom. He’s a silly colt, but he’s creative and fun to be around. I also got to know about the passions many ponies around here have. You’d be surprised by the herbs they need for things they do.”

Sombra could only look dejectedly at the filly’s rambling. Her spout about friendship meant nothing to the tyrant. The only thing he required was power and he refused to lower himself to these animals for some ridiculous concept as friendship. The very idea of relying upon such filth that had become a bane to his ruling couldn’t seethe his rage more. He did not want to experience friendship. He wanted it destroyed, burned to a crisp, and thrown away to a time where it would never be remembered.

Though Sombra felt annoyed by Pye’s talk, there was one thing that astounded him. Despite knowing the truth of Sombra’s identity, this filly continued to talk casually to him with that dopey face of hers. It was as if his name did not bear any weight to her. He had to wonder if this filly held astonishing courage or was wholly stupid.

Pye suddenly surprised Sombra with an exhilarated jump. Perhaps it was the latter. “Ooh,” Pye said. “How about we move to this shelf over here?” Pye walked off to a nearby shelf that held colorful waxes spotted with dark tones. Knowing the filly would grab him should he be defiant, Sombra reluctantly joined her side. “These candles were made by me and Ms. Meadow. We mixed these with numerous fruits and herbs to help soothe the body of creatures. My favorite is the apple-scented one.”

“Of course, it is,” Sombra said in a bored voice.

Perhaps Twilight’s hasty arrival wouldn’t be too bad if it’d save him from this conversation.

Meadowbrook watched the pair from afar at her counter. She didn’t feel comfortable leaving her pupil with the unruly stallion, but she couldn’t invest her time in them at the moment. Her shop had gained an incredible number of customers she had to juggle through. They came in waves that kept her constricted to the counter and she couldn’t foresee the tides waning anytime soon.

Pye was the only pony she knew who wouldn’t start an incident with him. Her pupil was remarkably excited to be put in charge of Sombra’s orientation at the shop. The last thing Meadowbrook wanted was to damper her joy. Meadowbrook’s customers would have seen to that.

Meadowbrook knew their motive for being here from the look of their eyes. They marveled at Sombra from behind and whispered to each other with sullen faces.

They were curious.

Ever since the meeting with Elder Moab had passed, Meadowbrook noticed wary eyes upon her and Sombra. The residents spoke fearfully of the pair.

“Why do you think Meadowbrook kept him a secret?”

“Maybe he has her under his control? Did you know he has the power to manipulate others?”

“But he has that ring on his horn, right? How could he do that?”

“What? So, you mean Meadowbrook knowingly kept him a secret from all of us?”

“But why would she do that? Doesn’t she know that he’s a monster?”

“You don’t think she’s plotting something, do ya?”

Throngs of customers entered Meadowbrook’s shop and paraded her with questions about him. They’d ask her with the biggest anxiety and wariness she ever saw from her community.

Meadowbrook tried her best to assure them, promising that all was fine. But they didn’t believe her. She knew it from the faces they shared amongst each other. Meadowbrook wondered if their fear for Sombra would forever cloud their faith in her words.

Or perhaps they no longer trusted her.

She felt an uncomfortable distance from the residents. They seemed too cautious with their words and looked at her eerily as if she was someone not to be trusted. She wondered if she truly made a good call to keep Sombra a secret.

Meadowbrook had argued to herself that she did it to protect them.

How could her folks live peacefully if they had to worry about a tyrant living in their midst?

She did it for the sole act of protecting their minds from panicking.

And it wasn’t like she could abandon Sombra in the swamp. He was a meek creature, small and vulnerable. He required protection and healing. Everyone should’ve noticed that from the moment they gandered at his lanky form. She didn’t do this out of pride as a healer. There was no way she would be so prideful as to take precedence over her community, right?

“Of course, I wouldn’t,” Meadowbrook assured herself. She felt foolish for thinking such a silly thought. “I would never do that…”

Meadowbrook took more time than she liked to close her shop. Her shop continued to be flushed with customers from opening hours to closing time. The residents stared at Sombra from afar as if he was a rare animal at a zoo. Meadowbrook had to walk all of the folks out to shut down her shop. She didn’t like to be forceful with others, but sometimes folks don't give you much of a choice. At least the fishers were kind enough to help Meadowbrook escort the customers out before departing from her.

However, from the looks of things, Meadowbrook feared her day would only grow more hectic once she and Sombra were out in the open.

“Please don’t speak to anyone if you have nothing too good to say,” Meadowbrook urged Sombra as the pair walked across the bridge of Hayseed Swamp.

The residents gawked at them and gossiped amongst each other. Meadowbrook could only imagine the dreadful thoughts waning in their mind.

However, Sombra could care less.

“By the looks of things, I won’t have to concern myself about that,” Sombra responded. He adorned a grin on his face as if proud of the village’s reaction. “Look at them. They are scourged in delicious fear. Despite being a bunch of forest bumpkins, they at least recognize my majesty.”

“I’ve never heard someone use the word ‘majesty’ before,” Pye had spoken from between the pair.

Despite Meadowbrook’s advice to return home, Pye strongly insisted that she join their tour around the village.

Elder Moab instructed Meadowbrook to introduce Sombra to every part of their community. He wanted to be certain that everyone was aware of Sombra’s presence so that they’d remain vigilant while he stayed at Hayseed Swamp.

Meadowbrook had found the whole thing to be unnecessary. It was already bad enough that folks were wary of him at her shop, but to have him walking around the crevices of their home would no doubt alarm them.

At least, that was what she thought at first.

The residents were anxious, which was evident on their faces. However, none of them screamed once they saw him or picked a fight with him. Frankly, they were taking in his presence braver than she imagined. Meadowbrook wondered if she underestimated the villagers. She didn’t trust them to adjust to Sombra’s presence. And because she couldn’t trust them, they appeared to look at her darkly.

Am I heartless? Meadowbrook wondered to herself.

“That’s a silly thought, Ms. Meadow,” Pye chuckled. “There’s no pony else with a kind heart like yours.”

Meadowbrook blinked at Pye’s response, realizing that she accidentally voiced the question she was thinking. She then stroked the filly’s mane and smiled. That excellent drive to learn and Pye’s unbridled compassion would no doubt make her a remarkable healer.

“Thank you, Pye.” Meadowbrook said with gratitude.

With a pint of motivation in her spirit, Meadowbrook heartily showed Sombra through Hayseed Swamp. If she was going to do this then she should put all of her heart into it.

They first stopped by the port of Hayseed Swamp where canoes were decked at a long bridged jetty. The fishers would sail through the warren rivers to hunt for minnows and bass. They made good oil and sauce products that proved profitable for the village.

Meadowbrook then took him to the farmland near the coast of Hayseed Swamp. Farmers preserved the growth of mulberry and walnut trees. Mulberries were favored across the village and were also a large part of Equestria. The farmers took pride when Princess Celestia once visited the village to observe the growth of their delectable fruit trees.

Lastly, Meadowbrook showed Sombra through a wide bridge within the village where creatures laid out their stands to sell products and services. Homemade toys and tools were sold by residents to passing creatures. There was even an elder mare that posed as a fortune teller among their midst. Many creatures who met her would commonly ask her questions about their fortune, asking about success in their endeavors or hopefully meeting their kindred spirit.

Sombra found it to be hogwash and wished to challenge the elderly mare’s prediction. However, his aggressive approach to the mare scared her off. Meadowbrook had to reel him back with a hoof to prevent him from giving chase.

Sombra did not appear impressed by the tour. Even with Meadowbrook being informative and Pye seasoning the event with her jolly shenanigans, Sombra relentlessly complained of how wretched their home was. He would constantly make contrasts between Hayseed Swamp and the Crystal Empire. He found the structure of their home to be grimy and poorly maintained. He defined the residents to be uncivilized brutes without the least ample decor he would expect from commoners.

He viewed Hayseed Swamp as a stark disgrace compared to his home. And that unnerved Meadowbrook.

Meadowbrook was about ready to cut the tour short before she’d no longer contain her fury. Never did she think a stallion could fill her kind soul with such malevolence. She thought she’d be used to this stallion’s toxic language by now, but it would appear that there were just some things even beyond her.

“Look at that shrimp over there,” Meadowbrook noted the voice of a green stallion among a group of other stallions near the edge of a bridge. They were gathered around a barrel with cards and dice atop its lid. “Can you believe that’s supposed to be a tyrant who threatened Equestria? Hah, I bet I could snap his hoof with a light tap from mine.”

The green stallion tapped softly on the barrel, invoking a round of laughs from his fellow stallions. Meadowbrook could only frown at their open talk of violence upon others. Though, she had little room to judge after the last few weeks.

Her melancholy came to a swift end when she noted Sombra taking a step towards them. Meadowbrook quickly rushed in front of him and pressed on his chest.

“Hey,” she called to him. “Don’t worry about them. How ‘bout we head back to the house? You should eat somethin’ after all this walkin’.”

Sombra never looked at Meadowbrook. His eyes bore solely at the green stallion. “You say you can break me?” Sombra called out to the green stallion. The group of stallions beamed at Sombra, surprised by the sudden approach. “I would like to see you try.”

Sombra walked around Meadowbrook and confronted the group of stallions. The green stallion jerked his neck back and blinked rapidly at Sombra. But after looking down on Sombra's form again, the stallion chuckled and stood before Sombra. The green stallion stood inches above Sombra, and his body was burly and thick compared to Sombra’s limber state.

“You got some guts comin’ here, runt,” the stallion guffawed. “Didn’t like what I said, did ya? Well, what’re you gonna do about it? You gonna pound me to death with those scrawny little hooves of yours?”

Sombra twitched his eyes at the stallion’s blatant insult. Meadowbrook feared he would swing a hoof at the stallion. And he certainly would have had Pye not interjected in time.

Pye puffed her chest at the green stallion and sported a cocky grin. “You think you can beat Sombra? Hah, you couldn’t even wrap your hoof around a bass. That’s right, I saw that time you fell in the river trying to catch a loose fish from your net.”

The green stallion gaped at the young filly. “How did you”—he then heard his friends snickering behind—“Hey, shut it! That was only one time, okay?”

“Ah, so you’re an idiot,” Sombra concluded. “I figured a meathead such as you would often make a clown of yourself. That head of yours must be as vacant as the fish you bathe with.”

“You talk a lot of smack for a stallion who lost a lot,” the stallion countered.

“Perhaps. But at least I was not bested by marine life.”

The green stallion took another step toward Sombra, bearing his blue eyes closely upon Sombra’s. “Enough talk. What do you plan to do about it, huh?”

“Ooh, ooh,” Pye said as she raised her hoof excitedly. “You guys could settle things in a hoof wrestle. That’s the stallion-duel that’s done the most, right?”

“Hah, I like that,” the green stallion chuckled. “Maybe I’ll get to snap that thin little hoof of yours after all. Unless you’re not stallion enough to put your hoof on the table.”

Sombra immediately approached the barrel, prompting the other stallions to back away. He rested his knee on the lid and glared at the green stallion. “ Put that hoof of yours on this barrel. It will be a pleasure to humiliate you.”

Meadowbrook rushed over to Sombra's side and whispered to his ear, “Sombra, wait. You have nothin’ to prove here.”

“Back away from me,” Sombra barked, which prompted her into taking a couple of steps until she landed on her flank, her skirt rippling a bit. “I won’t let this peasant talk this way to me, and I have no interest in being considered a weakling to him.”

“You’re supposed to be gettin’ along with the folks here, not causin’ a ruckus! How’s this supposed to help?”

“Let him vent, Meadow,” the green stallion said as he joined his hoof on the barrel. “Somebody’s gotta put him in his place. And from the looks of it, that somebody will be me.”

A stallion who immediately enlisted himself as the referee tied both Sombra and the green stallion’s hoof together with bandages. Looking upon the physique of both of their hooves, Meadowbrook was anxious because she knew Sombra was going to end up with a cast soon. However Sombra wished to demean the stallion, and it was something that baffled Meadowbrook because the green stallion was stronger and more resolute.

How could Sombra possibly think he could win this matchup?

The referee initiated the match without a second to spare, and right when the wrestling got started Sombra was on the brink of losing. His thin muscles were straining as struggled to retain the little space he had from the barrel.

Meadowbrook noticed the bystanders gathering around them and cheering on for the match. Creatures were making bets and touted for their champion’s victory. This was the last thing Meadowbrook wanted today.

“Looks like you were all talk,” the green stallion guffawed. “Hey, think I might get a medal from Princess Twilight after I wipe the floor with ya?”

Sombra gritted his teeth. Meadowbrook sensed an uncomfortable aura around him. It felt cold and unnerving,which made her skin jump.

And then she saw it. They all saw it.

A strange blackness seeped out of Sombra’s skin. It crawled and latched onto his strained hoof like a horde of leeches.

“What is that?” The stallion asked.

He attempted to jerk his hoof away from the darkness crawling on Sombra, but the bandage held him tight. Not only that, he yelped when Sombra tightened his grip upon the stallion.

“This is your reckoning,” Sombra said.

Sombra quickly turned the tide of the match by pushing the stallion’s hoof toward the other side of the barrel. The stallion squirmed and grunted as he desperately tried to protect the little space he had left.

“That’s right, Som,” Pye cheered. “Keep it going! You’re nearly there!”

“That better not be magic,” the stallion growled.

“You see the ring,” Sombra responded. “This is all-natural. But that should be the least of your worries. You should be hoping that this nasty hoof of yours doesn’t snap off.”

“Oh, don’t get on your high horse yet!” The stallion retaliated. “You ain’t seen the best of me yet!”

The stallion gritted his teeth and popped veins off of his hoof as he was trying to push down Sombra’s blackened hoof. Meadowbrook saw the tyrant grinning at the stallion’s desperate hurdle, relishing at his agony like the horrid tyrant he was claimed to be.

But then, she noted the smile gradually draining from his face. The darkness that coated his hoof began to dissipate, withering away like dust.

The green stallion could see himself garnering space and with a single burst, the stallion slammed Sombra’s hoof to the lid of the barrel. The stallion popped off from the barrel and raised his other hoof toward the crowd.

As the stallion boasted the cheering crowd, Meadowbrook unwrapped the bandage from their hooves. Meadowbrook was aware of his stunned look upon his hoof. She could already tell his rage was festering fast.

“Come on,” Meadowbrook said. “Let’s go back.”

“No,” Sombra retorted, before turning his attention to the stallion. “I demand a best out of three. I can assure you won’t have the same luck again.”

“Probably not,” the stallion admitted. “You got some weird stuff crawling in your muscles. I had to give everything I got just to get my win. You might be scrawny, but you’re definitely strong.”

“That’s right,” Pye chimed and patted his hoof on Sombra’s back. “You shouldn’t underestimate Som like that. He’s full of surprises.”

“Enough with the excuses,” Sombra growled. He placed his hoof on the barrel again. It appeared stained with nasty bruises and gashes.

Meadowbrook gaped upon the wound before hissing. “Stop,”

She pinched Sombra’s ear and pulled him hard from the barrel. Sombra yelped at the sharp pain, compelled to follow Meadowbrook’s miraculous force.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Sombra yelped. “What’re you doing!? Release me this instant!”

“Woah, what happened to his hoof,” the green stallion said when he noted Sombra’s hoof. He then looked appallingly at his own hoof, which shared a few cuts of its own. “What happened to mine!?”

“Pye, fix ’im up, will ya?” Meadowbrook asked.

Pye saluted her and came to the stallion’s aid. Maybe his small wound will teach him not to boast bravado so carelessly, although...Meadowbrook felt she may never understand how stallions could be so thick-headed like that.

Meadowbrook dragged Sombra to a coast a distance away from the bridge. Miraculously, it was just her and Sombra in the area. She felt a sense of peace with nobody staring at her, but she had little focus to relish at the moment.

“What are you doing?” Sombra questioned as he finally managed to separate himself from Meadowbrook. He pressed upon his reddened ear, desperately trying to soothe the pain. “How dare you interrupt my duel.”

“Give me your hoof?” Meadowbrook requested. She did not wait for his consent, knowing this stallion would be too proud to comply. She seized hold of his hoof and showed him nasty gashes. “Look at this. It’s your fault that this happened. You’re supposed to allow your body to heal but instead, you push it to do things it’s not yet ready for. What was that darkness anyways?”

“My body is not like the average pony,” Sombra responded. “It embraced the darkness and was trained to maintain it. A simple hoof wrestling with a mudpony would be a simple feat for someone such as I. At least, it was supposed to be.”

Meadowbrook glared at him for an uncomfortable moment and then sighed. She withdrew bandages from her bag and began to wrap his hoof.

“Whatever that was, I don’t want you doing it again,” Meadowbrook advised. “You hear?”

“Are you not going to prod for more information about my peculiar talent?”

“Would you tell me if I asked?”

“…No. But you’re taking this rather calmly. Too calmly, I dare say.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that,” Meadowbrook snapped. “You let one stallion bad out you and ya decide to challenge him in some petty fight. Is your dignity so important that you have to explode on everyone?”

“Of course it is,” Sombra said matter-of-factly, earning a tightening on his bandage that elected a yelp from Sombra. “I don’t regret my decision. I’ve always had to endure others looking down on me. It frequently fell on me to defend myself because no pony else would do so in my stead.”

Meadowbrook wrapped the end of the bandage in a ribbon before she gave a droopy look at Sombra. “Was it really that bad at the Crystal Empire?”

“Ponies looked oddly at me because I was different. They couldn’t love me for what I was, so they ignored me and kept their distance. That sense of rejection festered in my soul for a long time. But, not anymore. I don’t intend on letting anyone force me to feel that way again. That is why I must defend my name. Because that is all that’s left to protect.”

“Then let me help you,” Meadowbrook said. Her offer stunned Sombra, raising a brow at her. “You don’t have to feel rejected by others. Even if all the creatures in the world refuse to accept you, you could at least have me and Pye for company.”

“You expect me to settle for a pair of swamp dwellers ?” Sombra sighed and turned towards the wide river before them. “You still underestimate my greed. But, something tells me that I am also underestimating yours as well.”

“I’m not greedy,” She finished her bandaging, “I just want to show you that there’s more to life than just liberating the world,”

Suddenly Meadowbrook walked off a bit before turning to face him, “We aren’t as different as you think we are, really.”

“And what makes you say that?” Sombra responded with a raised eyebrow.

“Both of us are ponies that’re from time periods long gone from this one,” Meadowbrook stated. “The eras we were born in ended a thousand years ago but we’re still here, walking among a world that’s far unlike our own. Some things may appear the same, but the creatures of this generation aren’t like the ones we knew from before. I’d say it’s something that’s hard to swallow everyday, ain’t it?”

“That is a bold claim to make,” Sombra argued. “You hail from a forest tribe of shamans while I ruled a kingdom with an iron hoof. The only reason you were taken to limbo, Mage Meadowbrook, was to save Equestria from a growing evil. I, on the other hand, was banished as punishment for the acts of tyranny I inflicted on the citizens of the Crystal Empire.”

“Then why not let me be the first,” Meadowbrook claimed. “I know the horrible things you have done, and I can see that there’s more to you than the terrible tyrant to claim to be. All I’m tryin’ to do is offer you something more precious than some fancy status.”

Sombra gazed into Meadowbrook’s turquoise eyes. He saw the firm resolution burning in her eyes. Her kindness was genuine. There wasn’t a shed of darkness within them he could expose.

But that only confused him even more. There had to be something this mare was plotting to get out of him. No pony could nonchalantly give themselves to someone without something in return.

Not even Radiant, in the end, could do that for him.

“You make it sound so simple,” Sombra sighed. “But I know, that we both know, that’s not the case.”

“Maybe not,” Meadowbrook admitted, and yet her face gleamed with confidence.

Staring at her stirred something strange within Sombra. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time that he believed to have died.

This mare is dangerous. Despite his claim, Sombra couldn’t help but reward the mare with a grin. Or was this his smile?

“But I’m still willin’ to try,” Meadowbrook said. “How ’bout you?”

08: Hearts and Clovers

Sombra marveled at the night sky. The many stars draped horizons and glimmered brightly like flares. For them to spark such lively flames toward these thicket woods astounded him.

It was a magnificent sight to behold. Even he, who hailed from the brilliant kingdom of crystals, could not deny that. He just never imagined he would have to admit such a shabby place could ever be exquisite. The place is founded under boggy waters and old oak woods that don’t age as well as crystals. On what land could anycreature ever call this place home?

Sombra gazed upon the shacks that were adorned with paints and candles glowing like a neon light. The village espoused a ritualistic vibe that made Sombra feel he was no longer in Hayseed Swamp. There was too much magic in the air for it to feel that way. And again he was appalled by his admission. Him, calling this village of all places magical?

Of course, it’s nothing in comparison to the Crystalling. Though he never had the chance to experience its brilliance without pain, the dazzle it left on the Empire’s citizens was a remarkable sight. Perhaps it’s the uniqueness of their celebration that swoons his eyes. After all, there is always wonder in the unknown.

Or maybe it’s likely Meadowbrook drugged him with something.

Sombra endured mornings and nights of Meadowbrook’s strange cooking: Gumbos of uncanny ingredients, nasty herbal brews that sickened his tongue, and odd powders she would spray upon his coat. And most of those decrepit things she forced upon him. In spite of this, he still fought valiantly to resist his rabid healer’s ‘treatments’. If Meadowbrook would not be compliant to make a decent meal, she would not receive an agreeable patient.

“You’re slowing down,” Meadowbrook said, pushing Sombra from his haunch. Sombra glared back at her with the deepest malevolence he could pull from his soul. He hoped to spook the mare for her non-consented touch, but Meadowbrook only sported a bored glance at him.

Nothing he did seemed to scare her. This mare grew far too comfortable around him for his liking. So much so, that she didn’t even have an ounce of doubt in lording over him.

His many fangs became more like an experimental interest to the mare rather than something to be wary of. She even went so far as to often brush and floss them with her crummy equipment. Sombra only welcomed crystalline fibers to purge his gums, but as always, the mare was neglectful of his feelings.

And the darkness that slathered through his skin became more of an annoyance to the mare instead of freaking out over. She would grow livid against him whenever she caught him letting the blotches of blackness escape his coat. She feared that his darkness would wound him again, prompting her to make a rule of him never to do it again. As if he was going to listen to this peasant.

Suffice to say, this mare has grown used to him. But Sombra will resolve that problem. Once he regains his prime and removes this accursed ring from his horn, he will enlighten the mare of her foolishness.

“Look at it all!” Pye shouted excitedly. Her eyes beamed awestruck at her glowing home. “It’s just how I imagined in my dreams!” She then looked toward the open lake and gave a proud smirk. Sombra never imagined the filly could ever give off a diabolical aura. “Heh, heh, with my secret weapon, we’re going to catch all the glow fish. He’s gonna love it.”

Meadowbrook tussled Pye’s head, earning a chuckle from her pupil. “I’m sure you’ll catch a whole bounty of ‘em tonight,” Meadowbrook said. “And I’m positive your friend will appreciate the length you went to help him out.”

A small bronze urn was strapped to Pye’s side. She would often pat on it and speak to it as if it was a living thing. “This whitetail dye is gonna get us all the glow fish,” Pye proclaimed. “Just wait and see.”

“Easy now,” Meadowbrook chuckled. “You need to use it with moderation. You wouldn’t want a whole school of them fightin’ over your tail, would ya?”

Pye blinked at Meadowbrook and then stared at her tail. Seconds later, she held on to it protectively. “You don’t think they’ll snap it off, do ya?”

Sombra groaned. “Will you stop your incessant prattle about that dye already? Has the last few weeks been enough for you?”

Sombra endured the garrulous chatter of this filly for weeks on end. Pye’s constant breach of his personal space and telling him of all her passions and delights in the world absolutely infuriated him.

Sombra voiced toxicity toward this filly in hopes of deterring her approach. However, no matter the harshness in his words, that filly would keep on a jolly face and happily respond to him as if she did not understand the intentions behind his words.

Her positivity was so crushing that she caused Sombra to resign to her whims. Pye had constantly asked Sombra to try out her whitetail dye, but Sombra would always decline her viciously. Despite his rough rejection, she would ask again the next day in her happy-go-lucky nature. Her requests were like dents to Sombra’s sanity. Though small as they were, it eventually carried strength in its numbers. It was inevitable when Sombra reached his breaking point and adhered to the filly’s request that he finally managed to shut her up.

Sombra allowed the filly to dye his thin black tail to a ghostly white hue. Pye marveled at his contrasting color. The fisher ponies who observed from afar guffawed at how white was a nice color to cleanse all the darkness in his soul. Let it be known that Sombra will see to it that those two will be stricken white with fear when his strength returns. Especially towards the colt whom Pye constantly boasted about because the fault also lies with him for leaving Sombra to deal with Pye’s nonsensical tirade. Sombra hoped for nothing but the worst for that colt tonight.

“Let her be, Sombra,” Meadowbrook said. “She’s been waitin’ weeks for this. I want her to have the time of her life tonight.”

“Then why can’t she hurry and find the colt she constantly blathers about?”

“Ooh,” Pye exclaimed with her hooves squashed upon her cheeks. “Do I sense jealousy in your voice?”

“What?” Sombra gazed appalled at the filly’s insinuation. “You think I, a king that can strike fear into the hearts of many and obtain any mare in the world, would feel challenged by some meek colt from the backwoods? And all for the sake of some simple filly with no status to speak of?”

“Oh I know, it sounds so magical doesn’t it,” Pye swooned. “It’s like one of those fairy tales my gram-gram used to read to me at night.”

“I grow tired of this talk.” Sombra hastened his step and went past Meadowbrook and Pye. He scowled back at the two that appeared surprised by his quickened pace. “Will you two hurry up already? I don’t want to be standing outside all night.”

They eventually entered a bridge circling around the center of the village. Residents filled the area, adorned with glowing paint similar to the ones Sombra found on buildings.

Sombra could not ignore it anymore. “Why does everyone have that glowing paint on themselves?” Sombra asked. “Why do I see it everywhere across town?”

“You’re not familiar with fish oil, are ya?” Meadowbrook asked.

“Fish oil? Is that what it’s supposed to be?”

“It’s a special kind found from glow fish. The villagers have always extracted the oil from the fish for herbal purposes. It also makes an effective incense to attract the glow fish for tonight.”

“An incense?” Sombra turned towards Pye who continued to pat on her urn of whitetail dye. “Then what was the purpose of making that ridiculous dye then? Couldn’t you have used the fish oil like everyone else?”

Pye shook her head. “Oh Somby, Somby. You don’t understand. This here is a special brew that’ll be a lot stronger than glow fish dye. I know that whitetail happens to be a favorite food among glow fish.”

“I’d fix that tone in your voice if I were you,” Sombra warned. “Regardless, I hope you don’t intend on using your own tail as a lure. Unless you actually intend on having the little buggers gobble it up for themselves.”

“Hm? What do you mean? Fish can’t eat your tail…” Pye then gazed at her mentor. “They can’t eat my tail, right?”

“Your tail will be fine, Pye,” Meadowbrook assured. “Sombra is just trying to instill fear in ya. Besides, I wouldn’t imagine him knowing a lot about fish considering he’s lived most of his life in the harsh snow.”

“You underestimate my wisdom, mare,” Sombra countered. “There is a lot I know that would stun your feeble mind. I could offer a lot more to Pye as a mentor than you ever could.”

“What I’m offering to Pye is knowledge passed down from generation to generation,” Meadowbrook stated with a sharp gaze at Sombra. “And it’s not just the knowledge that I pass on to her, but also the love and bonding that ties us together.”

Sombra couldn’t help but pause at the sharpness of Meadowbrook’s tone. However, Sombra refused to back down. “That’s merely sentimental talk. What you’re teaching her is just a culmination of math and science. I would imagine the technology of this world has evolved while your old ways have grown, shall we say…redundant.”

“Are you calling my family traditions redundant!?” Meadowbrook stomped before Sombra. He had seen her sport an angry face many times, but this one held a malevolence common to his own.

The hatred of being laughed at for his identity. For what he was and the way he saw the world. None of the crystal ponies could understand his pain and they would commonly ignore or mock him for it, and he abhorred and envied them with all of his heart.

“I…” Sombra started, but couldn’t find the right word to respond with. What could he possibly do at this moment? Should he try to prove his claim to this mare? Should he just move along and neglect this conversation altogether? Or, should he recognize that he is in the wrong? “Then why not prove it to me?”

“What?” Meadowbrook said, baffled by Sombra’s response.

“You heard me,” Sombra said with more confidence. “You claim that there is a uniqueness in your teachings that is unlike many, right? You claim that love and bondings hold a value in those teachings, so it will allow you an opportunity to prove it to me?”

“…You mean like a challenge?”

“Yes, that’s it,” Sombra spoke as if a bulb dawned upon his head. “I challenge you to prove the value of your teachings.”

“I don’t need to prove anything to ya,” Meadowbrook snapped. “Pye and I know how important it is. As long as we hold value in it, then that’s all that matters.”

She didn’t take the bait. Sombra thought. Where is your pride, mare?

“Hey guys,” Pye shouted excitedly at the two. The two shared their gaze at the filly and found her with a buck full of glowing liquid. “Look what I got.”

Sombra squinted at the bucket. “Is that the fish oil?”

“Think it’s ‘bout that time we got uniforms, right?” Pye said. “Here Somby, let me help you get it on.”

Sombra immediately jumped back from Pye the moment she drew near him with the bucket of fish oil. His hooves defensively rose between him and Pye. “You keep that thing away from me,” Sombra demanded. “You must be a fool if you think I will allow something so disgusting to blemish my coat!”

“This ain’t up for debate, Sombra,” Meadowbrook said as she grabbed hold of the bucket from Pye. “This is part of the celebration. Who knows, ya might even like it if you opened up for once?”

“I can hardly attest to that. You may have me stuck here and forced to do your egregious labors—”

“All you’ve done is restock the shelves,” Meadowbrook interjected.

“—But this is where I draw the line,” Sombra raised his voice. “You will not paint me.”

Meadowbrook stood with a neutral look. This was also a new expression to Sombra. How he wished he could have his magic in order to read the emotion surrounding her.

“Is that right?” Meadowbrook said with a calm voice. Far too calm for Sombra’s liking. “Well, if you’re not looking to get in the spirit of the event, I can always take ya back home.”

“Really?” Sombra and Pye responded shockingly.

“I didn’t know that was even an option,” Sombra said.

“Of course,” Meadowbrook continued. “Pye and I would be out here enjoying Firefly Rank. So, I would have to leave ya with the fish ponies to watch over ya. Such a shame that’d be the case, really. They were lookin’ forward to this just as much as Pye. And I don’t think they have the best opinion about you.”

“Uh…” Sombra’s mouth hung open, not knowing how to respond. He recalled how the burly stallions shared in Pye’s excitement like a bunch of prepubescent foals. For Sombra, taking that away from them would soothe his dark heart. However, to be locked in the house with them did not spell leisure time for him.

“I did not think a healer would practice the tactics of a scoundrel,” Sombra growled.

“How is that any different from you?” Meadowbrook challenged. “You evoke fear into others. I’d say that’s a scoundrel’s hallmark more than anythin’ .”

“Oh, so you think you have me where you want, eh? The old ultimatum where I would have to choose the least worse of two choices.”

“Wait,” Pye voiced. “Is Sombra scared of the fishers?”

Sombra blinked, astonished at Pye’s claim. “What? You think those saps scare me?”

Pye let out a wide gasp. The intense reaction from her face seemed overly dramatic in Sombra’s eyes. “Oh no,” Pye said. “Somby, you can’t fear them!” Without a chance for Sombra to retort, Pye pounced upon him and gave him an unwanted hug that tingled his bones. “They’re good folks! You just gotta give them a chance!”

“I—” Sombra grunted from the intense tingle in his bones. He can hear his voice betraying as he nearly let out a giggle. He, the dark king that spreads fear into the hearts of many. “—I fear no one! Now release me!”

“Make up your mind, Sombra,” Meadowbrook said with a smirk. “Are you gonna be a big pony and put on the fish oil? Or do you want the fishers to be your babysitters while we’re gone?”

“You dare call me…I…fine,” Sombra growled. “But know that you will receive your just reckoning in time.”

Despite the eerie claim Sombra made, Meadowbrook and Pye came upon him with delight. Sombra would like to say that he endured this cruel punishment bravely, but of course, that would be a lie.

Sombra shook at the cold goop of the fish oil slathering onto his body. The mushy sensation of it squirming through his coat and onto his skin made him want to run and dive into the boggy water to get rid of it.

It certainly did not help that Pye and Meadowbrook held a lovely conversation about the oil’s application as they drew their hooves onto his coat. Such an act would never be permitted in his kingdom.

“Can’t you two hurry it up,” Sombra commanded with a quivering voice. “This is most uncomfortable.”

“Oh, hush up, now,” Meadowbrook snapped. “You should never rush one’s art.”

“What do you mean by that?” Sombra asked. “What are you drawing on me?”

“Something that’s gonna make you popular with all the ponies,” Pye chuckled.

That alone hinted at something grim to Sombra. Whatever art the two had in mind for him, there was no way he would find it agreeable.

He decided to call it quits and make a run for it now. Though it may be shameful for a king to douse himself with nasty swamp water, it would be better than having this gross fish oil on his skin for another second.

However, the moment he tried to kick himself to a start, Meadowbrook clutched his belly so hard that he croaked. Had she reached a little lower, he might have lost his stallionhood.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Meadowbrook asked. Though her voice lacked all the warmness and care he was used to. “You wouldn’t like to ruin the fishers’ time tonight.”

“Alright, fine!” Sombra shouted. “Just let go of me already. Just finish this as soon as possible.”

Despite his request, the two took their time dressing the goop onto his coat. He complained and cringed profusely, but they kept on slathering more of the goop with meticulous brushes.

And here Sombra thought he was supposed to be the cruelest thing alive.

To his relief, the end had come. Meadowbrook had announced their accomplishment and Sombra galloped to the nearest stand that had a mirror. What he saw in his reflection appalled him.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Sombra cried.

“I know right?” Pye cheered. “Doesn't it look cute on you?”

Sombra gazed, mortified at the numerous clovers and hearts placed across his coat. There were even tiny small specks on the goop that shimmered like glitters. Glitter! How on Equestria does one think this was befitting of a dark ruler?

Meadowbrook joined Sombra with a triumphant smile. Perhaps this was an attempt to get back at him for his insult about her family teaching.

“Think of it as a good luck charm,” Meadowbrook said. “I think Pye made a nice choice pickin’ this look for ya.”

Sombra wanted so badly to shout at this mare. However, if this could resolve the argument they recently had, then perhaps it was best he held his tongue. But only this once!

“Can we just go fishing already?” Sombra sighed, earning a surprised glee from Meadowbrook. Maybe that’s a sign that she has forgiven him.

He expected her to respond with the joy of his compliance, but instead, she walked off. “Are you not satisfied?” Sombra asked. But she continued to walk forth where residents were gathering.

“Somby,” Pye whispered to him. “She might not want to show it, but what you said about our family really hurt her feelings. You should apologize to her.”

“ I beg your pardon? You honestly expect me, a king, to apologize.”

“C’mon, Somby, Ms. Meadow has been doing her best to look out for you. Don’t you think she deserves a little respect for that? Besides, she’s been looking forward to coming out here with you.”

“She has? Well, I certainly didn’t see any sign of that?”

“Well, she was hoping to go to Firefly Rank with Rockhoof, but it looks like he couldn’t make it today. So, we gotta do our best to make sure she has fun tonight.”

“Are you seriously giving me that responsibility? How am I supposed to give her a good time?”

Author's Note

Edited by A Man Undercover

01: King and Commoner

Sombra ached a pain that pervaded endlessly through his body. He loathed at his hopeless patience for the pain to wane. However, the only silver lining to this was that it assured him he was still alive.

Sombra had found himself in a pitch-black space. There was nothing for him to touch, nothing to feel but the cold air and the sound of streaming water beneath him.

He had been trapped in this dull prison for what felt like weeks or months. Perhaps even eons. The world felt timeless, no matter how much he wanted it to move forward. Nothing would change, nothing would occur, nothing would save him from his boredom.

And he had Twilight Sparkle and her accursed friends to thank for this.

When Sombra thought he would endure another unknown time of stillness, he suddenly felt his sense of gravity shift. Whatever matter that latched above him, he could no longer feel. Losing it intrigued Sombra, but then his mind squirmed when his body was dumped into rough waters that unceremoniously pushed him along its swift stream.

His body flipped and bumped on walls within the darkness, but then his sight registered a light beaming within the distance. The stream quickly guided him through that light, and then he came to realize he was being spewed from a pipe. The construct dumped Sombra into a lake where even that continued to move him against his will. What a pitiful sight to find a king. He could not bear to let any creature see him like this.

He grimly took solace when he found that it was nighttime. There was much darkness that he could hide himself in.

Sombra tried to rebel against the stream, attempting to reach the shore. But he felt nothing from his body. He could feel no rattle from his limbs or even his voice reverberating in his protest. None of this felt natural.

He recognized that there was no hope of him escaping the waters. The world had given him hope just to curse him to new despair.

He resigned to let the river take him wherever it led. His mind seethed with rage at seeing Canterlot shrinking within the distance.

“I was so close,” he thought.

His thoughts subsided when he noted roars of the water. The river seemed to disappear within the horizon, distant lands and oceans could be seen from the distance.

“No!” he thought, coming to realize what awaited him.

However, no matter how much he struggled, his body neglected his command. And inevitably, the river threw Sombra into the waterfall.

Sombra’s consciousness returned when he felt his body rub across something brittle. It felt like tiny tacks constantly prickling him to his annoyance. Though his vision was blurry and beclouded of thin darkness, he could still make out his surroundings.

“Sand,” he said.

It would appear his wish to make it to shore had finally been blessed to him. If only he wasn’t worse for wear, he would thank lady luck for this prize.

Sombra trudged up the shore, finding a sandy hill where he could see trees above. However, a wave of water crashed on his backside, beckoning to pull him back as if it was the river Styx. He refused to become the plaything of water. The dark king shall not fall to the whims of nature.

His newfound vigor garnered him the strength to crawl atop the hill. How he could move was still an enigma to him. He could tell he had no limbs, but his body did not feel light when he was once a shadow. Whatever his darkness has deformed him too, he couldn’t allow any creature to witness.

Sombra stood before a dirt path where a cluster of trees and shrubs inhabited the other side.It may not be fashionable for the dark king, but hiding in the forest was his best option for recovering his strength. At least until he can find his way back to Grogar.

He motioned his body on the dirt path, but when he crossed the middle, a cold sensation washed over him. He recognized this feeling as the alert of dark magic in play. Sombra wondered where it could have come from. Who could be its caster? Could it be Grogar and his new minions?

Though the idea of working under another creature riled his pride, he knew his options were limited.

“This is not an admittance of my servitude,” Sombra thought. “I will play into his trust and once I have received what I came for, I shall ensure there is no obstacle to my rise. And then, I will finally find a way to bring you back, my love.”

Before Sombra could track the magic, he paused at the sound of hoof steps and wheels. From the dark and moonlight, Sombra saw two stallions pull a carriage. With how dark it was, it would be near impossible for them to note his presence. Perhaps he will use that to his advantage.

Sombra timed his moment and prepared whatever strength was stored in his mysteriously small body. When the stallions drew near, Sombra launched his body between them and splatted upon a ledge of the carriage. A thin pain pulsed throughout his body, but Sombra could take comfort in his action.

To him, having servants serve as his transportation weighed better than taxing his feeble body. He will use them to draw close to the dark magic as close as he could before continuing his lone journey afterward. And once he made it there, hopefully, he will become whole again.

Sombra had taken a nap during his escort near the dark magic. When his sights fluttered open from his darkness, he found himself on random dirt of the road.

His vision scurried awry, searching for an explanation for his displacement. However, there was no creature around. And to make matters worse, his body had been drenched in wet mud.

Did it rain during his slumber?

The morning light revealed the dirt path to be dampened. That could be the only answer. The rain had sodden his ride and slid him off of the carriage. Sombra wanted to vent his rage but knew how fruitless the effort was in his condition. With an inner sigh, Sombra pressed onward to the source of the dark magic.

To his misfortune, it appeared fainter to his senses. However, his body was able to detect this magic. He could surmise that his escort had only lengthened the journey he must tread.

“That’s what I get for relying on simpletons,” Sombra grumbled.

Sombra ventured into the dense forest, displeased with the dirt and grass that stained his body. However, his smudges became the least of his concern when the sun beamed upon his tiny figure. He instantly felt a sizzling pain, as if he was being pressed by a hot branding iron.

Sombra hastened into the nearest shadows. Underneath a tree, Sombra glared at the sunlight gradually extinguishing the surrounding darkness.

“The accursed light of Celestia,” Sombra sneered. “You and the Crystal Heart will always be a bane to my existence…”

Sombra regretted the latter of his thoughts. Though Amore’s creation filled him with contempt, it was still a treasure that Radiant Hope adored. Had she simply joined him, he could have given it to her as a gift and so much more.

No. That was still to come. Sombra was determined to make it so. It’s the reason he was okay in submitting to his conqueror ways. As long as he had Radiant Hope, then it would be worth it.

Although, seeing as the sun now limited his movements, he would have shelter for the next night to come.

Sombra had hidden underneath the shadows of trees. Among one, he discovered a burrow underneath. Sombra trekked inside the entrance, trying his best to endure the pain of his burn marks.

The downward slope into the burrow rolled Sombra inside. It annoyed him to say this, but he honestly felt eased to be in the darkness. Even if it was underneath an inferior life form.

He suddenly noted a growl near him. His vision quickly adjusted to the darkness and he noticed a fox snarling its fangs at him. Its stomach appeared to be bloated, either from the luxurious success of its hunting or perhaps…

The fox lunged upon Sombra and sunk its fangs into his form. He had no time to react, no way to defend himself. The thought of becoming the meal of an inferior creature sickened him, but what was he to do? At least he could not feel the pain.

The fox faltered away from Sombra, whimpering into a corner of the burrow. He awed at the sight of the fox fumbling about and sizzling before him. It soon stopped moving. Its body had decayed, leaving nothing but its ash and bones.

Sombra noted a collection of smaller bones within its ribs. It was just as he figured…

He ignored its corpse. He did not have the luxury of concerning himself with every life that came his way. His only concern was to conserve his strength and wait for the night to come again.

During his hibernation, Sombra distinguished the sound of a mare outside. The sound of a mare humming. Piqued by his curiosity, Sombra ventured back into the wilderness. He kept a safe distance away from the sunlight and tracked the voice into an opening, where a blue mare with turquoise eyes appeared to be picking mushrooms.

“This isn’t good,” the mare said, her face riddled with concern. “The volt shrooms shouldn’t be growing so close to the river.”

The mare before him baffled the dark king the longer he looked at her.

Why on Equestria did she wound her scarlet mane upward and braid her tail? Or wear a grass-green skirt over her back and flank?

She had to have been a native of this rural area.

With his interest satiated, Sombra resigned back to the burrow. However, on his way, a gust blew and prodded the trees to open a light upon Sombra. Though it was brief, the sunlight charred his skin again, causing the dark king to flail frantically.

“Hm?” Sombra heard the mare through his anguish.

“Drat,” Sombra cursed in his thoughts. “Don’t tell me she heard me.”

Sombra attempted to retreat into the burrow, but by the time he trudged before the entrance, the mare had passed a shrub he recently hid in. And she found him.

Her eyes gaped at his mysterious form. “I’ve never seen a thing like you here in the bayou. What are you?”