Arc 2 – Lies Chapter 3 – Deal

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Rainbow Dash stared at the vacant place, its recent occupation betrayed only by shallow hoofprints, then declared:

“It’s a trap.”

With that she abruptly turned to face the curious unicorns peeking around the cover of the large boulder; the pegasus mare from before, who’d seemed to retreat, had rejoined them. Rainbow’s glare found the trio, and though her anger wasn’t aimed at the ‘soldiers’, her expression hardened.

Yet before she could take more than a few steps, the metal whip of Spike’s tail across her chest barred her way.

“Are you going to so easily dismiss your only chance?” he rumbled in a deep, thoughtful voice tinged with disbelief.

“Vanhoover is on the other side of Equestria,” Rainbow snapped without hesitation, trying to shove his tail away.

“So?”

In a display of feline grace, the pegasus ducked under the offending arcanium appendage to finally resume her approach to the ponies who observed the exchange in confusion.

“While we are away, they are going to wipe out the camp.”

“They,” Spike called after her.

The sharp accusing note with which that single word cut the chill air stopped Rainbow in her tracks and she turned her head back halfway to grimly glower at him with a single eye.

“The TCE or the crystal ponies?” the dragon continued. “Isn’t the latter who you wanted to help?”

Rainbow’s hoof shot up, pointing at the spot glistening with a dark crimson.

“If they wanted help, this wouldn’t have happened!”

A heavy silence settled betwixt the two old friends as the spilt blood couldn’t be ignored. However, one of the unicorns broke the uneasiness; he had slipped closer almost unnoticed, his companions, timid yet resolute, supporting the intrusion into the conversation of ancient legends.

“It’s our fault,” he said and gulped as Rainbow’s burning stare locked him again. Still, he pressed on, “We attacked first.”

Despite all the intensity in the pegasus’ eyes, her wrath had no outward focus; it served only to conceal her true reaction to the incident.

Spike caught a glimpse of it and commented, “Nobody has seen crystal ponies for centuries.”

However helpful his words were, his intent look spoke of more ready to come and they would bring little assistance this time—only revealing things Rainbow wished to remain unsaid.

Refusing to follow the invitation to Vanhoover would mean telling those ponies in front of Rainbow that she had no faith in their ability to hold their own, or even admitting that the camp no longer served its initial purpose.

Rainbow glared at the dragon and meant it; if he’d remained silent from the start, she might have had a chance to ponder on her decision and, perhaps, present it in a different light.

Yet she had no other choice left but grumble to him:

“Let’s head back and prepare—it’s not a short journey.”

The flight, long indeed despite the nearly mythic speed of the Former Ones, brought Rainbow and Spike to Canterlot or, rather, to the snowstorm tightly coiling around the once glorious city. High above it, to avoid the vicious winds and exchanging the deathly cold howls of Windigoes for the freezing breath of stratosphere, they stopped to observe the malevolent presence spread across the wasted country.

Both hovered in the frigid air effortlessly, and whilst Spike absentmindedly bathed his rime-laced metal body in the rays of Sun, Rainbow pensively eyed the protrusion of the great blizzard that stubbornly clung to the Crystal Empire.

Not for the first time she wondered what exactly lured the undying winter spirits there. Surely, the ceaseless slaughter of the Crystal Ponies had warranted the presence of the death-seeking wraiths, but something didn’t feel right—there had to be more than just the river of blood that had forced the Windigo to be so persistent.

With that worrying thought in mind, her voice disturbed the silence of the desolate sky.

“I suppose you were the last to see the Crystal Ponies free.”

Spike’s refusal to further disturb the stillness of the firmament had almost led Rainbow to believe the thin atmosphere had failed to convey her words, but the dragon finally dignified her with an answer.

“The search for a cure from my ‘curse’ led me to where I got afflicted, but it was too late.” His reply carried a certain melancholy, but in that sorrow, notes of bitterness rang strongly.

“For them or you?”

The plating of the dragon’s body shifted, revealing the emerald flames churning underneath. They seemed to soak in the undiluted Sun’s radiance and gain a golden tint to them in a way Rainbow could call only as thoughtful—as if Spike was tasting the sunlight, trying to figure out what to do with it.

She remembered how every week he went far into the snowy fields and did things that no dragon should be able to—no living creature should.

Was that his inherent nature allowed to bloom with the blessing of the Machine Goddess? Or was it something she instilled into him to fester, away from the watchful gaze of the Stalliongrad Technocracy?

Oblivious to Rainbow’s worries, Spike regained his dragon form to speak to her.

“The TCE turned the entire city into one huge prison and it was rioting when I arrived,” he said slowly, distastefully recalling the past and then the past beyond it. “And though I tried to help the rebels to get the Crystal Heart, it didn’t go as well as the first time. In the end, I only lost—my friend and my wings.”

Rainbow winced, remembering the searing pain that bound her to the wonders of technology if she wanted to fly again, yet she hesitated to voice her compassion—Spike had forgone the pretence years ago, sailing the winds through sheer will and his mysterious nature with as much difficulty as the most skilled of fliers that had ever lived.

Still, she uttered, respecting his other loss, “It must have let some escape.”

To her surprise, the dragon chuckled.

“So, you trust that stranger now.”

The pegasus pressed her lips together and retorted, annoyed, “I fought both the TCE and the Сrystal Ponies for years. As much as that rotten corporation favours subterfuge, they would have attacked us long ago if they were capable of it.”

However, Spike had an argument at the ready.

“They can do that now, without heavy losses,” he noted gravely, but the tiniest of smiles played on his arcanium jaws.

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Wow, thank you for believing in my skills and for praising a decade of effort.”

“You have done a better job than you think.”

The smirk on the dragon’s muzzle gained a somewhat inscrutable quality as he flipped backwards and resumed the journey west.

No matter how softly Rainbow strived to tread, her steps stubbornly echoed across the eerily resonating maze of the crystal-blighted Vanhoover. The glassy buildings bristling with gem teeth sang in the wake of her cautious, almost reluctant gait, and crystalline ponies gossiped behind her back.

Glimmering eyes of visages forever frozen in horror followed the pegasus and dragon—each a victim and a tombstone.

“I don’t know who I hate more—the witch who did this or the TCE for choosing to slaughter ponies instead of mining the crystals here,” Rainbow spat as she passed a stallion; once a handsome pegasus, now a hunk of pale quartz.

As Spike somberly floated above the glistening pavement, his grim eyes lingered on the petrified denizens of Vanhoover caught in the attempt to flee from the wave of eldritch magic that had rendered the lovely seaward city into a monument of cruelty.

Somehow, his taste for gems and the developed later appreciation of pony flesh made the sight only more heinous; and not just because he indulged in both no more. And even knowing that of all the Equestrian major towns Vanhoover had met the most merciful fate, did little to ease the loathing for the one who’d brought its doom.

Yet as his sombre gaze wandered around, taking in the thousands of crystal statues and mineral-overgrown skyscrapers, he shook his head and darkly noted:

“They would have resorted to that eventually—don’t underestimate the hunger Canterlot had.”

Rainbow’s muzzle scrunched in distaste. “You sound almost approving.”

The dragon snaked around a peculiar composition—a mare trying to force the body of another to shield herself from the impending perdition.

“It’s hard to have faith in ponies after observing them for so long.”

The pegasus abruptly stopped.

Ignoring her indignance, Spike continued, “Hard—not impossible. For someone who claims to be the TCE’s sworn enemy, you give them too much credit.”

However, Rainbow remained silent and glared at him.

Eyeing her measuringly, Spike said, his voice bearing a subtle but certain hint, “The witch’s name was Realgar—the refugees lynched her. Do you approve?”

A scowl claimed Rainbow’s expression and she nearly hissed, “Don’t play those games with me.” Finally resuming her navigation of the ruins, she threw over her shoulder, bitterly, “I know her name perfectly—she was the only Crystal Pony in the Coven, nobody else could have done this...”

She trailed off.

‘That would have happened to her eventually, one way or another’ or ‘it’s the past anyway’ would only serve to prove Spike’s point. Rainbow chose silence, knowing full well that it meant no victory for her either.

His insinuations had been getting on her nerves for almost a decade, yet the dragon still didn’t realise that working under Queen Chrysalis’ orders had tempered her tolerance to a nigh-undepletable well supported by her still burning bright torch of loyalty. Or so she hoped.

Fuming, she stomped ahead, crystal shards crunching under her angry hooves.

The vile union of Crystal Ponies’ magic and the Ebony Warlock’s teachings got hold of ponies and whatnot as they galloped, cowered, or protected their loved ones—all futilely. Every figure in sight shared the tragedy and the fossilised quality of their flesh.

Almost every figure.

“Do they realise how much patience we can afford?” Rainbow drearily commented as her sharp eyes caught movement where it had no right to be.

Sparkling silhouettes shadowed them, flickering amidst the statues, barely distinguishable, or bringing shy radiance into the dark blind windows of abandoned buildings.

“Maybe if you stopped scowling so fiercely, they would come out.”

The pegasus critically appraised Spike. The Crystal Ponies might have forgotten Rainbow and she wore the imposing armour no more, but anyone with at least a sliver of common sense would carefully consider a tonne of arcanium that barely contained a mass of living dragon breath.

“When was the last time you looked at yourself?”

Whatever riposte the dragon had prepared never left his lips as both he and Rainbow whipped around—behind them appeared something much more grave than just a furtive scout.

No sound and no profound display, just wisps of pitch-black smoke heralded the most deadly threat that plagued the battlefields of old. Anyone who’d survived it at least once had King Sombra’s stealthy approach etched into their brain together with the reflexes and instincts as fundamental as breathing.

A tide of emerald flame crashed into the ink-bleeding crystal, but Rainbow knew it would be of no use—the warlock would be smarter than that. If anything, the blaze only played into his hooves as her visor tinted automatically, making it harder to find where the shadows would present the malignant unicorn.

Still, her eyes hadn’t let her down and Rainbow plummeted into a seemingly random balcony to a mere heartbeat later thrust her fetlock-mounted blades into a back covered by a crimson mantle. The tempered steel penetrated the fabric easily, like mist, and… it was mist.

The pegasus converted the inertia of her dive into a roll and thus sprung the actual trap—the foggy agate she bumped into erupted, and despite her formidable exercise of dexterity, the force of the stunning charge slammed her into the gallery’s railing. The corroded bars shattered from the brutality of the collision and Rainbow tumbled down.

Her body passed three stories when she regained control and only because she had spent those fleeting moments assessing the situation.

The street below screeched with the sound of metal being violated by obsidian claws blasting from the asphalt. Spike nimbly dodged the assault; but for every ten he evaded, one crystal spoke got him, grazing his arcanium shell and the multitude of the constant attacks steadily wore the dragon down.

The mastermind behind all the chaos worked from the shadows, unseen.

Rainbow hooked her limb on the catwalk of the rusted fire staircase and, ignoring the wailing protest of the weathered metal, nimbly hopped onto it. Not even touching the grating with all her hooves, she threw herself over its opposite bannister and skidded across the cracked wall of the apartment block. Hopping from gem to gem that protruded from the affected side from the edifice, she began her descent—the air likely would be full of death, just like the old times.

Spike’s namesakes kept jabbing him with varying success when Rainbow joined the test of dodging ability. She passed it by crossing the street in a few powerful strides and graceful leaps. Intuition alone guided her into the building opposite to where she attacked the illusion.

The barrage of underground skewers ceased abruptly and the moment it happened, the pegasus pivoted on her hills—a few stories above her, the ever so faint sound of air being displaced betrayed another jump.

As she re-entered the borough, Spike slithered by her and, without a word, Rainbow latched herself onto the arcanium plating. However, the moment the dragon took off, a cloud of maliciously gleaming crystal shrapnel tore at his armour.

Unperturbed by the insidious trick, Spike roared flame and the swarm of razor-sharp slivers retreated like a flock of magpies—vicious and determined. Wasting not a single fraction of a second, he reached for Rainbow and hurled her forward in an almost ironically iconic fashion.

The pegasus spun, screwing herself through the air and past the deadly projectiles, then made a sudden turn. But Rainbow’s preemptive manoeuvre fell short as her fetlock daggers failed to even graze the smug muzzle of the warlock.

She didn’t crash heavily into the wall but disappeared in a puff of black smoke along with the king.

They rematerialised in the middle of the trafficway, though, unlike the unicorn, Rainbow couldn’t move—thick black crystals made sure of that. The same earthborn stone bars pinned down Spike.

Sombra adjusted his mantle and offered them his trademark fanged grin.

At some point in time Rainbow would have expected Sombra to engage in a lengthy monologue, but after warring against him, she knew that mere seconds separated her from death. So, it came as surprise when the triumphant king spoke:

“You couldn’t defeat me back then,” he said in a baritone smooth as ever and that bore only the subtlest hints of vanity and mockery. “What makes you think you can now?”

Not for the first time in her life, Rainbow regretted being trapped in the suit—oh, how she wished to spit in that smirking face.

“We chopped off your fucking head!” she barked instead, her glower scanning the unicorn’s groomed coat for a telling scar; it had none.

Sombra met her eyes and his smile grew wider.

“Not you and it hardly helped.”

Rainbow tried her crystalline bounds, but the warlock knew his craft. She shot a glare at Spike, who lay annoyingly and strangely taciturn, patiently following the stallion with an unreadable expression.

Sombra continued, his tone gaining a tinge of seriousness, “But I didn’t summon you here to rub my tenacity in your faces.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Rainbow sneered, rattling her gem cage.

The king regarded his prisoners once again, deeply content, then took a few steps back. The crystals that immobilised them dissolved into smoke.

Spike rose to his full height, his fire gaining a blinding brilliance under the arcanium scales; Rainbow hopped to her hooves, taking a battle stance. Yet their motions ended there—the warlock wouldn’t let them free if he couldn’t change that back in the blink of the eye.

He sat and said, “As my messenger said, I only want to negotiate.”

The pegasus puffed out her chest and huffed, “So, what are your terms of surrender?”

Sombra offered her a condescending, somewhat sad smile, then sighed dramatically.

“Rainbow Dash, Rainbow Dash… I’d hoped ages would bestow some wisdom upon you.”

As the stallion jeered, Rainbow began to deliberately pace in semicircle around the unicorn, her scowl boring into his mask of conceit. Spike simply sat, mirroring Sombra in all but expression—the dragon’s muzzle showed nothing as he observed the exchange.

Giving Rainbow a sly look, Sombra asked, “Speaking of which, I wonder if you ever reflected on your nation’s declaration of war on me?”

“You took Cadance hostage.”

The king laughed, much to her wrath.

“Fighting a war for a mare is the pinnacle of reason, yes.” All humour left his voice as he squinted at the pegasus. “What about your precious Princess invading my empire along with a group of elite warriors prior to… your inevitable failure?”

Grimacing at the memory of the fateful event, Rainbow hotly retorted, “You’re a tyrant who isn’t above anything. The Crystal Ponies suffered under your rule!”

“Equestria had just lost its leaders, didn’t you have anything better to do?” the unicorn asked, sounding almost confused.

Rainbow bared her teeth… yet had nothing to say. She even stumbled in her restless walking back and forth.

Grinning at her hesitation, Sombra continued, his words laced with subtle poison, “You call me a despot, but must have never wondered what the Princesses used for the steps to climb onto their throne, and who the last king was that refused to offer his skull.”

“They brought Equestria into a millennium of peace and prosperity for all. I know your philosophy—those with the abilities you value are privileged, the rest—discarded, like chaff.”

The warlock met the accusation unwaveringly, instantly replying, “So you would prefer the ponies of the Crystal Empire to be kept and ground like grain?”

The pegasus didn’t miss a beat either, stopping to bark into his face, “So you want to take it back—from one slave master to another. There’s nobody to sell that ‘flour’ to anymore. The city is under the siege of the blizzard and sooner or later they will surrender.”

Sombra stood up and walked up to her, so close, his breath practically fogged her visor.

“And then what? You take the fortress second only to Stalliongrad with your”—he smiled in a mocking sympathy—“militia? Do you believe you can hold it after—the richest crystal mine in a world craving for gems?”

It took Rainbow all her self-discipline to not hit that smug muzzle as once again she found herself without a counter-argument.

“Look around Dash,” Sombra said, his hoof raising for a wide swiping motion.

Not letting the warlock out of her vision she did glance to the sides—full of sparkling ponies; not statues, but actual Crystal Ponies, throngs of them curiously watching the scene from the windows of the ruined city.

“These ponies are here willingly, it was them who brought me back so I could lead them into the bright future once again!”

The scowl left Rainbow’s face, replaced by a wistful expression as her gaze jumped from one innocently pure visage to another. It was just like she wanted, what she had fought and nearly died for—smiles and eyes unblemished by fear.

She sadly shook her head—they were all fools.

“There is no bright future with you, only shadows.”

The jab went over Sombra’s head and he shook his head in turn, chuckling, then turned away to walk back to where he sat and lowered his hindquarters to the cracked pavement again.

“The world has changed, Dash, and my philosophies had to be adjusted to fit the currents of time,” he declared. “Walk this tomb of the city and see my ponies thrive, be they weak or strong. You and I are not that different these days—gathering volunteers to fight for the right cause.”

Rainbow shook her head again, almost absentmindedly—all smoke and crystal mirrors.

Ignoring that gesture, the king finished, “Ask yourself—do we have to be on opposing sides of the barricades?”

She turned to meet Spike’s eyes. Not bothering to frown at him—she would discuss this crucial moment later—the pegasus searched them for any hint, but the irisless fire offered her nothing but an impassioned stare. Whatever he played at, his plans lay impossibly far beyond her comprehension.

Then her attention returned to the Crystal Ponies—the descendants of those who she’d once sworn to save and basically the same equines she aimed to liberate from the new Tartarus of the North.

They didn’t know the Ebony Warlock—not an inherently evil individual, nonetheless a merciless architect of his vision, smart and cunning in building his idea of a perfect society; also, patient, willing to take many steps back if it meant eventual success.

She couldn’t stop his inevitable rise to power—had never been strong enough and probably would never be… as long as she was alone. He also spoke truthfully on the other matters—without proper support from the Machine Goddess or Queen Heterocera, no matter how much she hated the idea, the Crystal Empire would slip from her grasp in no time.

And, ultimately, that war had made little sense, indeed; Cadence died long ago and Equestria still had more than its fair share of troubles.

Steeling herself, Rainbow spoke as calmly as she could and miraculously managed to avoid her voice breaking.

“I’m no queen and no general—just a soldier. It’s not only my call to make.”

Sombra grinned triumphantly and predatorily.

“Until we meet again, then.”

Author's Note

If you notice any mistakes sneaked in through the editing, let me know.

Stay awesome.