Author's Note

An unusual content warning but important nonetheless. The following chapter contains horror, tragedy and mild gore. This chapter is part 1 of 2, given its rather intense composition. Should one find that the content is too offensive for them, then part 2 is offered as a less serious alternative. Ideally both should be read, however, part 2 can be read and understood in the greater context of things without having to read part 1.

Apologies for the strange structure. But I felt it necessary to present it in such a way as to allow readers with less tolerance for horror-centric literature to still enjoy this pivotal part of the story. Please do let me know if there is any confusion or if you have any particular critiques of it, as I have not done such a thing in the past. Part 2 will be uploaded shortly.

Many thanks for the continued to support and comments. Shout outs to Shadowwolf

Perdition. Part1.

Chapter 7.
Perdition, Part 1.

Combing over the stacks of papers, the documents waiting to be signed and the dense bills laden with ear-marks, Princess Luna calmly buried her angst. The dark colored Princess sat in her office, one of the most luxurious in all the world and embraced the loneliness of such a grand place. So much space, wasted on openness and opulent decorations in her name. The desk below her was large enough for several ponies to sleep on, yet she only ever used a small portion in the very center for her business. Since the summer heat was in full swing, the damp warmth had come through the windows and wet the stone. A tin fan wedged into the narrow siege windows moved the air through, humming along with a pleasing white noise the Night Mistress valued.

She sighed deeply as the approach of hooves echoed down the long hall, their distinctive weight and timing signalling exactly who was coming. Cyan eyes scanned over one last document with little interest before setting it aside in the light of a bluish crystal lamp. Truth be told, only half the content of any given legislation was being read. Luna’s ancient mind was so helplessly occupied that it failed time and time again to register the words pouring into it. Article five this and expansive innovation that, the monotonous pace of such talk that understandably put the normal pony into a deep coma of boredom.

Rather than the important legal procedings of her nation, Luna consistantly found her focus falling to the old-fashioned scroll that had been sent to both her and Princess Celestia. The distinct handwriting of an actual hand writing and the tell-tale scent of dusty old parchment stored in still shelves marked it quite clearly. Drawing a deep breath once again she unfurled it in her magic and read it for what must’ve been the hundreth time that day.

”Explosive anger- advanced apparition magic- the conjuring of the hatred demon Zreth-ihna- verbal abuse directed toward a filly- threats of violence- recomend intervention and study to determine the cause of the outburst- Umbra currently under house arrest- please advise.” Naturally Twilight’s rather long-winded style of writing filled the entire piece of parchment from top to bottom and side to side. Reporting on one incident that seemingly took a few minutes to occur, the Friendship Princess described it down to the most agonizing detail.

In her tossing and turning mind the Princess could not determine just how she should feel about this latest event. In her most genuine heart the distress welled thick and cold. Simply thinking of such awfulness plauging her people put the Princess ill at ease, especially when you and yours were the face of such negativety. The less compassionate and more professional portions of her saw opporunity, however. Just as any good politician knew, there was nothing about a panic that couldn’t be exploited. This long and grinding campaign of allowing Umbra to bear children might finally have just the spark of energy it needed. The Princess silently scorned herself for such a heartless manner of thinking, however it was certainly for the best. Luna had never let her ambitions trip over something petty as her own concern. The exact verbage of the law she envision played again and again in her mind’s eye. Her speech to a worried and flustered council was perfect parts emotional appeal and calculated legality. All that would be required was proper timing. Then a majority vote would be assured.

Assuming of course that the mare who just came through her doors didn’t immediately veto it all.

“I trust that you’ve received Twilight’s latest report?” Celestia said from the ajar door of ebony wood and wrought iron. Her soothing voice echoed through the hall like it were hollered into a tin can, stiff walls and high ceilings projecting it about in reverberations of authority. Luna didn’t stir from her reading posture, insisting that she finish the last few words of the document before addressing her regal guest.

“Yes… yes indeed. It hath come across our desk when the sun began to set.” Celestia stepped into her Sister’s abode with a metered trot and a soft expression. Her approach was designed to dispel any hostility and communicate her pure intent, but her mere presence conspired against her. The crunched and sour glare on Luna’s snout was nothing but closed and conspiring. Coming to a stop just between the pair of fine chairs set before her Sister, Celestia breathed deeply the ancient aroma of moist stone and old mortar.

“We suppose it shall make for a lively discussion tomorrow. Surely you have sent the council copies if they have not already heard of it?” Luna didn’t look up from her documents and spoke in victory, as if her plan was all coming together right then and there. Her alabaster sister sighed and cast her eyes to the floor for a moment, her pomp posture and regal control failing for a moment.

“I’ve gone through the proper channels and alerted all the representatives.” She said with no enthusiasm to her voice.

“But I have my doubts that they will be so excited to hear of Umbra’s latest outburst.” A smug little grin split Luna’s snout, victoriously proclaiming her own satisfaction. The Night Mistress tapped her papers into order and fluttered her wings in excitement.

“Indeed. They ought reconsider their opinions then! Callous as it may seem mine Sister, We may finally have the upper hoof in this matter.” Deflating poor Luna was never a weak mare’s task. Educated and wise as she was, her self-assured nature had eternally been a point of struggle for her. A racing mind could run through all the complex political calculations quickly, but it might never cast a wary glance back to check its math.

“Maybe… or maybe they’re still tangled in the matter of Blueblood’s ascent to Arch Colonel in the Equestrian Guard. As is the press.” Luna’s expression instantly contorted into a indignant pout, her ears pinning back and the warmth in her chest doused with dark sludge.

“What of such a vain matter? ‘Tis only a thing that disturbs fillies and mares whomst remain young in their hearts!” She dismissed instantly the rather contemporary matter of their relative’s promotion, for in her busy mind it hardly registered as anything beyond a simple clerical error.

“Far more pressing matters are to be decided on. The council will surely forget themselves and act quickly. 'Tis the duty We hath passed down to their clans.” Celestia scowled and looked away from her cocky sister, earning quite the piercing glare.

“Luna. Surely you’ve been paying attention in the last several meetings we’ve had?” The dark sibling cocked an eyebrow in visible offense, her tail lashing out behind her.

“Dear as this issue has been to us-”

“As it still is!”

“Right, right. Dear as it is to us, the public’s moved on.” If the Night Princess could write “confused” on her face, it would’ve been a less obvious indicator of her feelings. Celestia’s azure sister leaned across her desk with a most accusing posture.

“Public matters art Mine concern, Dear Celestia. Surely so long as this remains unresolved, then it is in the Public’s interest.”

“Yes, you’re not wrong.” Celestia grumbled.

“But their interest has waned. Umbra and her lot have become old news to them. If Umbra no longer concerns, the council will surely wish to focus on the newest trend that does.” Luna drank in the information as if it were bitter spit flung right into her mouth. The alicorn had a serious issue with her proverbial bubble being popped, especially when it was wholly justified to do so. Her lips locked into a tight frown and her eyes into narrow slits of accusing wrath, yet their target was utterly unfazed by such malice. Luna held her breath and watched for Celestia to break, show weakness or concede in any way. But rather, she stood on a solid foundation. There was no beating her down, changing her mind or showing her the light. All Luna could do was accept that she was mistaken and return to some sense of normalcy.

But the very thought made her stomach turn.

“We see… ‘tis a compelling argument.” She hummed, softening herself as if she understood. Celestia watched carefully as the fire crackled and her sister retreated into her fabulous chair. She carefully examined every last move and twitch and retraction in her Sister, sensing the lack of genuine acceptance in her.

“I don’t intend to demean you, Luna. I’m humbled by your concern for them.” Celestia placed her hoof over her heart with a warm smile, watching Luna’s face twitch with slight insult. In truth, there was only one unusual creature that held her so-called “concern.” The same one that had infested her thoughts since the night before.

“But I cannot stand to watch you bend yourself into knots trying to help them. I’m pressing you let go of this impossible task.” Tense seconds built between them as Celestia watched her Sister sit there in utter silence. The Night Mistress breathed deep and stared into the dancing fire roasting cedar logs in her hearth, crackling and blackening fibers glowing with a dull and soothing orange.

“We can call an emergency meeting in the morning, if it will make you feel better.”

“Nay…” Luna said with shaking head and dull eyes, standing from her desk and making her way around its impressive length.

“Yee speak the truth, Dear sister. Yet the shining light of this radiant knowledge is simply too bright for Min eyes.” Luna grumbled and made for her door, stepping right past her sister without so much as a wayward glance.

“Allow us to reflect on this lack of sight.”

Luna’s night came late in the evening, as was customary in the summer. She ruled the winter, Celestia the fertile and active time of heat. The Princess dallied in her fancy delights in order to vent some of her frustration then. The public baths, hardly used since she had returned, were still polished to prim and shiny perfection. The marble pocked by iridescent mosaics of heros and history surrounded her as the fresh spring water poured ceaselessly from the ceiling. Polished bronze plates let in steam from the bubbling flow as it trickled down into the lower parts of Canterlot, filtering off the filth of busy nobles through the sediment, rocks and moss of ancient landscapes. Luna got to enjoy it in its most pure form, the divine liquid mysteriously generating from the very top of this holy mountain her castle encircled.

Soaking through her fur and imparting its heavenly warmth through her tired muscles, the great alicorn sighed deeply in the echoing hall. Peacefulness enshrouded her as the water did, stillness unparalleled creating a glassy and reflective surface for her to sink into. The deepest pools allowed her entire body to sink, only the top third of her neck emerging from the relaxing depths. Her mane filled the water like a cloud, her wings unfurled and stroked gently to make lapping waves and her mind wandered away in thought. The Princess could indulge in whatever she desired, whenever the need struck her. Luna hadn’t known hunger or want since she had returned from her cold exile, yet here these very sensations were twirling within her.

Generations had labored, withered away and risen again in efforts to see this place. Ponies dedicated their lives and bodies and minds to reaching this zenith of class and opulence. Yet the Mistress of Night was still lacking. There was not a soul there to comfort her. To bring living noise to this otherwise silent place. The babble of water and the rush of current was nowhere near as satisfying as the steady breaths of another. Naturally, the highest authority of the land could borrow any pony she liked for an evening or two. Many hundreds of stallions and many hundreds of mares were doubtlessly lining her halls at that very moment just for a chance to be her consort. But that one being she craved was barred even from her.

Luna relaxed into the water until it enswathed her lips and rested just below her huffing nostrils. Her eyes sharpened to needles as her thoughts focused and her eternal energy turned outwards. Glowing dully and humming quietly, her horn came to life and filled the bath hall with its wavering pulse of magic.

In an instant she was flying through the practiced motions of dreamwalking. Generally she prefered to be in the safety of her own chambers when visiting her subjects, but on such an occasion the Princess simply couldn’t wait. A mage expert as her in this practice could certainly dreamwalk and float at the same time, thus she needn’t worry about smothering herself and being yanked from her focus. Larger matters were at hand anyway. Or so she convinced herself. Her yearning grew so deep that there was no distraction on her way into the void. Right through the clouds of thoughts and feelings and cries for help she soared. Her pace was like a bullet ripping through the air, her ripples of penetrating energy converting many nightmares to reaffirming experiences and meaningless drivel into impactful revelations.

That distinct signature, aroma and flavor of dream was obvious as an alicorn on the streets of Canterlot. Finding it was no difficult feat, but entering it proved surprising to her. The Queen of the Night fell into the scene crafted by this unique mind with shocking ease, as if it were any other pony naturally accepting her presence. It excited her to feel the membrane of a dreaming soul like this one guiding her inside. The ghostly precipace between waking and sleep gripped like fatherly arms welcoming a weak child home.

Then came the punishing cold. Winds blowing southward whipped across a barren scape bereft of much detail. Luna was but a bodiless perception viewing the scene from a distant vantage completely unaknowledged by the mind manifesting it. She felt the chill of winter’s harshest embrace around her, but nothing so hostile could compare to the warriors inhabiting it. The dominant consciousness in this realm pulled her in, allowed her to feel as it did and hear its voice clearly. She latched onto the man circling another, his eyes beholding a hostile and fierce soldier. All at once, she understood the context.

“Such a fine young man...” You whispered to her without realizing. The idle grip on your sword was tired and practiced. Leather creaked beneath your rough and dented plates of steel armor, the rattle of your opponent’s lamalar like church bells ringing in the distance. Luna could feel your exhuastion, the pain of several wounds bundled together and the weight of age. You moved slowly and deliberately, guaging the slightest moves of your challenger.

He was a young buck, concealed in dark dress of leather, plate and fantastic flare. A mask like a dragon’s mouth covered his face, tall horns rising from his connical helmet. In his hands he held a curved sword that shone brightly with immaculate craftsmanship. The manner he presented it, the singular intent in his eyes and the deep breaths he drew blared his desire to kill like an orchestra. Though shaped like you, he was composed of more demoic components.

He lunged forward and clashed his blade against yours, firing off furious sparks from the chipping metal. His strike was powerful and quick, but impercise and unpracticed. In your experienced bones you felt a lack of training, only talent and drive in his movements. Blocking it sluggishly, you pushed him off with a kick to his armored gut. Flexible lamalar caved inwards and knocked the air from his lungs, leaving him breathless and vulnerable. Easy as it would’ve been to strike then and punish such a brash move, you let him founder and struggle. So much violence for so long, it had left you weary of producing anymore. The burden of a soldier that you had shouldered for so long cut deep into your soul and muscles.

He recovered and made another go at you, this time thrusting the end of his curved blade toward your throat. Another quick parry send him tripping and reeling away from you, nothing but the clang of metal against metal drowning out his exhuasted breathing. Such was the burden of a soldier, to destroy and humiliate what was beautiful. In another life, this young and vestile man could be a husband to your daughter. He could grow and enrich into a fine warrior just as you were. In a fatherly manner, you wished to raise him, teach him and nurture his potential rather than silence it forever.

But a soldier’s duty is never to nurture. Your sworn loyalty to higher powers compelled you to follow this honorable task, no matter the pain it incurred. This young warrior’s transgression against your Queen could never be forgiven. His ambitions were too destructive to allow. Thus, it fell to you to cut him down. The moment of clarity that returned to you soured any hope for resolution. In his rage he came again with raised blade and hollers of murderous energy, only for you to direct your straight blade into his underarm.

A rare spot bereft of any protection on a knight. Instantly the dark steel dove into his soft flesh and negated a lifetime of training. You struck like lightning, as if there was no movement between stance and attack. Instantly, his life was over. Muscle split along the straight edge of sharpened, ancient steel. Blood burst from ruptured veins, arteries and capillaries to flood the young man’s body cavity. The air in his chest rushed from his mouth in a silent gasp of agony, the final comfortable breath he would take. This maneuver that senselessly taken so many lives came quickly and mercilessly. You hilted the blade in his body, busting the pauldron opposite of your strike upwards when the blade emerged from his throat. The force lifted him off his feet for the briefest moment, slamming him back down onto shaking limbs when you retracted just as quickly.

One lung split, his heart sliced deeply, his aorta bisected and any opposing bones splintered. It was a dark blow to take against a person, for it was not only deadly but painful. In those final moments as he succumbed to gravity and fell to his knees, he was paralyzed by the agony of withering away. Gasping, coughing, retching up mouthfuls of crimson fluid, the challenger quickly fell forward and planted his face in the soil. Prostrate motionless before you, twitching as his muscles wriggled and twitched, you sighed as the darkness pooled around him.

Another battle just barely won.

All there was to comfort your beaten and battered mind was the image of your Queen bedazzled in diamonds high above. A throne-warming, soft speaking and eternally affectionate matron. It calmed you to imagine her satisfaction with your work, no matter how brutal and endless it might be. Feeling the presence of another, your mind pivoted quickly. Princess Luna made her interjection with relative ease this time around, finding that your mind accepted her presence with an injection of lucidity.

“Didn’t expect to see you again.” Was all you could muster before the world started to flake off around you. The Night herself took form quickly in a flourish of misty cloud, her azure color and flowing mane filling your vision as a white void slowly consumed everything around you.

“We did not expect such visions from thee, Anonymous.” She retorted with palpable concern in her voice, perhaps even fear. That very same intrepidation rested in the base of your heart, a prey animal fear of some mightier beast that might be stalking nearby. An inexplicable sense of dread wandered through your like the wind combing through an abandoned house, filling you with the icy presence of someone else. You and Luna both turned toward the horizon to behold another warrior, one whose identity was concealed by shadow.

“Hm… this is a curious sight.” She murmured gently, the Night Princess aware that this was but a dream, but disturbed regardless. You faced this figure head-on with your muscles locking into an attack position, readied yet drained. The weight of your armor and weapon now seemed impossible to heave toward him. What was once an extension of your body, your tools in defeating your enemies, now pulled toward the Earth with unending gravity. Your heart pounded in your chest to move thick blood through your aging muscles, much unlike the young and wiry creature threatening you.

Long hair caught the wind and danced about dark eyes glowing red. Not a sheet of armor guarded him against attacks, for a hundred scars were more than enough to stiffen his ghostly flesh. His impressive musculature made even your mighty and healthy body seem sickly and malnourished, a victim of famine before a god. From such distance he stood and watched, breathing deeply and clutching the very same sword as you in his capable hand.

“Anonymous… doth thou have some business yet to attend to?” Luna whispered to you as if this man staring you down might truly lunge forward at any moment and cut you down. You stood firm with readied submission, subtly aware that he would do no such thing. Capable, willing and bloodthirsty as this man was, you knew him too honorable to end your conflict like this. To cut down a man when he was tired and old and beaten was no righteous way. He would wait and watch and study. He would bide his time until the perfect moment came to succeed you and overtake everything you had.

“No… No. I think we’re done here.” You muttered in a moment of lucidity. The Night Mistress took control of the dream with ease and faded everything away. Scraps of scenery and atmosphere broke down and hovered off into nothingness as she reset every aspect of the realm, flattening everything into a blank whiteness fit for impressing one’s thought onto. Heavy metal armor crumbled to dust around you as the profound exhaustion drained away, letting you feel normal once again. The ashy dust of a thousand years of war blew away, uncovering an invisible sun with ghostly rays filling the entire place uniformly. You and her stood in a world of no shadows, no darkness and no subtly.

“What’re you here for?” You asked grimly, struggling to look your Princess in the eye. Luna simply stood with hurt spread across her face, both ears pinning to her skull. The royal was sadly cognizant of why you seemed so distant.

“We’ve heard of thine wife's outburst, fair Anonymous.” She started, your eyebrow raising in curiosity and insult.

“And… We thought it best to come hither and claim some responsibility.”

“I agree.” You interjected the instant her sentence ended, cutting off any hope for a gentle compromise. Luna retracted from you as you spoke, completely unaccustomed to be spoken to in such a manner. Especially when you lorded over her with such height, the spear of embarrassment drove ever deeper into her. You were likewise sickened by your own words. The recoil of such malice and darkness hit your square in the chest and forced a pause into your mannerisms.

“I just… I didn’t mean to-”

“Nay, nay.” Luna huffed with her hoof raised. She resisted the urge to come closer and comfort you, no matter how dearly she desired to embrace you and explain everything away in a single, hurried breath.

“We understand. ‘Tis Our doing that hath drawn such scrutiny to thine clan. We hath acted out of turn and brought conflict to thine beautiful family.” The Princess regained herself and stood firm in preparation for her admission.

“T’was never Our intention to be so thoughtless. The very laws We hath penned to ensure the sincerity and gravity of marriage have We muddied. And toward such a valuable friend, no less.” You watched as emotions flooded her face, for even in a world she controlled there was no suppressing the conflict within. It burned deep to see her struggle so much, a mare of such power and experience rarely put into a vulnerable state.

“We shall grade no vengeance ye wish upon Us. Whether it be never hearing thine sweet voice again or eternal hatred for Our being… ‘tis a fitting punishment.” Her eyes closed and her lip trembled under the weight of this admission. Once again you stood before a mare on the brink of a breakdown, her soft insides exposed like raw flesh to the burning wind. Derpy might have been the absolute Queen at breaking your heart with her tears, but Luna came dangerously close to matching your Wife's brutality. Instinctively you wanted to come forward and hug her, to soothe her weary heart and assure her everything was alright. There wasn’t a drop of malice in you, especially not toward the Princess that had spent the best part of a decade threading you through every legal loophole in Equestria.

In a strictly logical sense it might’ve been best to brush her off and accept such a cold offer. To never speak with her again or court her dreamy wiles would certainly put you in better standing with Umbra. Even better, it would certainly halt any further risk of agitating her in the future. But mares wielded the uncanny power of emotion over you. Physically mighty and stoic as you could ever be, nothing truly mattered when ponies of the female persuasion were beaten down. Years of training from your beloved had conditioned you to protect and serve with an ever-gentle hand. Luna’s transgressions could not even stir you to furrow your brow.

“Jeez… we don’t have to do something like that.” You retorted quietly with arms opening slowly. Luna’s ears perked and her wings fluttered against the small of her back as you spoke. A hopeful glint sparkled in her iris like a star freshly birthed unto the sky.

“But fair Anonymous-”

“It’s really not necessary.” You interjected, holding up a hand to halt her conciliation. She poorly concealed her smile, for the guilt was draining away like sludge pouring from stagnant pools. The words wrestled against one another to find their proper footing in your mind. Filtering them through was carefully done with great strain in your racing thoughts. The Princess’ eyes burned holes through you and made ample gaps for your emotions to pour through. The natural liberation of dreaming loosened your lips as well, damning you to speak nothing but honest truth.

“I liked that kiss… I didn’t want to admit it and I still don’t. But you turned my whole world upside down.” She stepped forward to apologize, but quickly retracted when she thought better on it.

“I hate myself for even thinking about it. I can’t believe that I’d be so selfish, I should’ve said something! Anything! But I just let it happen, like I was too stupid to see where it was going.” Tense silence consumed this spiritual place as you drew deep breaths of recovery, slowly realigning your mind so it could think straight once again. Your nocturnal guest sighed quietly and hung her head in shame, likewise finding the most genuine words to say.

“It is curiously tragic that ye saddle this blame.” She started, standing straighter to make her point all the more clear. You followed her motion with focused and wild eyes desperate for answers.

“That a mare of highest regard approachest thou and the greatest sin was a hesitation to repulse her? A Princess desired for millenia tempted a devoted stallion and he besmirched all his good deeds and all his good wives because he imagined their potential union for but a moment?” She came closer with each word, speaking softly and spreading a smile across her snout.

“Forgive Us, fair Anonymous. But does it not occur to ye that such a stringent prudence is unbecoming of a stallion like thee?” You crossed your arms and huffed in thought, juggling the words in your mind and trying hard to put them together in some sensible manner.

“Were it Our decision to make centuries ‘fore now, we might agree. But we imagine ye hath shouldered this burden at the behest of some repressed and bitter soul.” Thinking back to the heated exchange had at the saw mill just the day prior, a small chuckle boiled up from your chest. Quickly the tension was released like hissing steam from a pressure valve and her coy smile was shared.

“Yeah… now that you mention it? That sounds like Timber Lane…” The Mistress of the Night politely covered her lips with a hoof to laugh at his expense.

“Know ye what he dreams of?” You cocked an eyebrow in fascination, stepping closer to the tall and lithe mare to take in such privy knowledge.

“I figured you’d be sworn to some kind of disclosure agreement about other people’s dreams.”

“Yey, ‘tis Our obligation to maintain some dignity for our subjects… but when Timber Lane fondly conjures images of enjoying his pipe with the belly of Our Sister swollen with his progeny? We see his scolding of ye as bad faith.” You grinned and shook your head at the very notion of Tim having any dreams beyond logs and planks. Luna and you once again felt close to one another in this field of nothingness, as if nothing had ever happened, but the joy such a taboo act brought still lingered.

“Yeah…”

“Yey…” She retorted, staring into your expression with a drowsy and far-off look about her. You returned the favor, falling into her beauty and struggling to keep from drowning in it.

“Surely there is something We can do for ye to make up for the trouble? We would be remiss should We thoughtlessly breed strife and never repent.” In truth, there was certainly something she could do for you. Something only her kind could possibly give you that would set things on the path of healing. All you had to do was gather the gall to ask.

“I think there is…” You started, sucking in a cold breath as Luna prepared herself with misplaced giddiness.

“I want to know… why Umbra hates being called a halfbreed.” Were it not for the blue fur on her cheeks and snout, you could watch the color drain from the Princess’ face. Luna’s ears stood on end in alert and her legs stiffened to prepare for a swift get-away, like you were some predator leaping at her from the bush. The Night herself gulped nervously as the memories of such times flooded her mind again and reinstilled those dreadful sensations.

“Oh… We see…” She said with dry throat and parched lips.

“Is there something wrong?” You spoke with more force than you intended. Frustration was indeed building in you, as it seemed such an innocent and simple question. Given the absolute conflict in Luna’s expression and voice however, it was suddenly apparent just how deep this pain ran.

“We must apologize, Fair Anonymous. ‘Tis a question We have not the memory to answer properly.” Luna said somberly, concentrating for a moment in the vast void. Deep rumbles like bedrock grinding against itself hummed from the ethereal floor however, soon birthing a vertical wall of polished stone. Dark granite rose some ten feet into the air before halting with a stony grunt, your gaze beholding a heavy and metallic door on its front. Rather than any manner of welcoming barrier between rooms, the door more resembled a bulk head on a ship. It was braced by heavy iron bars bolted into place, locked by worm-gear mechanisms that could never be reversed and solid as the Earth itself. No way to look through, no way to every open it without the cruel key-holder’s consent. It was the precipice to a realm that was worse than prison, but a tomb for the living damned. You had to step back in frighten when you saw it, especially when Luna’s dower eyes fell on it and regarded it with such reverence.

“We can only allow ye to see it for yourself… if ye have the strength.”

“Luna… what is that?” You gaped in awe and fear as the blood in your veins chilled.

“A construction of Umbrial Daze’s mind. We grant ye an excursion into her thoughts, her memories, her very soul. Through this door is the world within she that withholds all mystery, regret and suffering accumulated in an unnaturally long life.” As she spoke the bolts came loose and fell from the stone frame. Screeching rust begged not to be opened and forewarned of the world beyond before falling to the floor with silent clatters. Metal and stone cracked and prepared to show you an entirely different realm of imagination and manifestation whether you could possibly comprehend it or not.

“But be warned, Dear human. Ye might find within thine wife things which ye cannot imagine. However much Umbra might’ve regaled to you in your time together, ‘tis not but the very surface of her depravity.”

“What am I supposed to look for in there?” You said with shaky determination.

“Not so much ‘what’ ye must find. But whom.” The last brace disintegrated into dust and revealed the final lock on the door, the only thing that could truly compell it to open. A perfectly smooth hand-print molded into the iron. You stood before it with baited breath and a supreme pressure crushing your ribs. Not a breath could come or go in this moment, for there was such great anticipation you weren’t sure how to react. An entire world twisted and formed and sculpted from Umbra’s mind. A world that would be far more honest and revealing than any dream Luna had ever seen.

“Anonymous?” Luna hummed mere inches from your ear, for the ringing in them was now so bad you could hardly hear her.

“It is not thine duty to see such horrors. Honorable as your devotion is, We must advise against this path.”

“Why’d you show it to me then?” You asked cautiously, lifting a hand to press into the lock and open the way.

“Ye requested it of Us. And We would see thee enlightened, rather than lost.” A dry gulp made a rock settle in your gut with a tiny measure of comfort.

“It’s gonna be wild in there, isn’t it?” Luna simply nodded, standing in a way that would eagerly accept you if the fear grew too great.

“If ye truly wish to know? Ye must see it as it happened.” Several seconds of hesitation gave you no strength. There was no preparation in the world comprehensive enough for the madness intended for you. Much like all of life’s most devastating challenges, there was no warning or mercy in this endeavor. All that was given was you having the will to do it.

So, holding your family in your mind, you pressed your warm palm to the cool iron and let the seal break. The touch of a familiar broke the barrier between your and Umbra’s minds, lacing them together in a manner similar to how Luna wove herself into the patterns of dreaming minds. Through magical means far too complicated for you to ever comprehend, you passed through the threshold between body and soul and fell into your loving wife’s mind as if it were a real physical place.

And instantly the voices of a thousand screaming souls berated you with hurricane force. A sandstorm of hollers and cries and debris kicked up over an expansive landscape scared by deep pink valleys and crooked trees. Bramble patches covered the ground like wiry hairs dripping with stinking bile that whipped into the air and splattered across you. Absolute terror gripped your heart, a basal and unforgettable fear you had never felt in all your waking life. Pain unparalleled soared not only through your physical body, but your mind. All your horrible insecurities, your crippling fears and distant anxieties became reality in that instant and drove spears deep into your conscious.

“GUH?! AAAUGH?!!!” You couldn’t even force the agonized calls from your mouth while your soul was destroyed in this hellish realm. You fell to the ground on your hands and knees, your most internal being under assault from screaming demonic winds. The fleshy and pale earth below pulsed with a steady heart beat that heaved flakes of dry skin into the air, like dinner plates fired from a cannon. Stink like burning sulfur and rotten flesh flooded your nostrils, the very bottom of your soul uprooted from your being. The dead forest of thorny stumps and seething flesh exhaled one last mighty gust against you that caught on your broad chest, thick and sticky air wretched as if released from a dying mouth. Red and black and brown and pink blurred together into a flurry of motion as you were catapulted up and away from this horrible place, rapidly descending off a cliff face and deeper into this nightmare.

You limply soared through the heavy and fetid air of this place until splashing hard into a shallow swamp of sticky tar and water. Though foul smelling and concertedly warm, the goo at least broke your tremendous fall enough to save your body. Not a bone broken, not a bruise. The air lurched back into your chest when you lifted your mouth above the stagnant pool, burning eyes adjusting to the horrors abound.

“Auugh! Holy shit!” You whined with fidgets and weak attempts to right yourself. Greenish and salty water surrounded you and the gooey mud beneath hampered any real attempt to stand again. The water felt as if it were only a few inches deep, perhaps a foot with the mud on the bottom. But there wasn’t a solid surface to brace against. Nothing but smoothed lumps slipped and slurped against you when you fought to keep your head above the surface.

“Hng! Haugh- gah! Son of a- ACK!” After much kicking and squirming you finally sat up in the bog of rotten bilge and oppressive heat, beholding this world you had so brashly entered. Great towers of agitated skin rose up all around you and stretched for miles in every direction. Where there wasn’t barren and jagged mountains of shale, thick cords of blood filled veins criss-crossed over the land. The roar of the wind descended from the sky itself, punching a hole in the sewage-colored clouds and letting a blinding light shine through. The glow burned worse than any fire, moist and ash-filled air gumming up lungs and eyes like stinging glue. Ancient temples of crumbling stone rose up and out of spaces between curling muscles and pulsing tentacles, their heavy bricks blackened by fire and smoothed by the endless storm. It was so incredibly loud there, screams and moans and rumbles and crackles and lightning strikes ringing in your ears.

That such a place could ever be imagined was frightening enough. But the very idea of this land being the incarnation of Umbra’s mind, the mare you had slept next to for seven years now, filled you with a unique dread. Wretched negativity had already flooded your thoughts as a consequence of coming here, but somehow the worry and fear built yet thicker. By some miracle you at least had your wits about you, trembling and sloshing in the thick soup to fight for reason. This swamp stretched on for quite a distance behind you, perhaps several miles of steaming and moving mud placed between your position and the nearest landmass. Were it not for the rock-strewn shore a dozen yards in front of you this journey would’ve surely ended before it even began.

“Focus… focus! Move! Move, you ancient old man!” Mantras of motivation repeated in your thoughts again and again to fuel this incredible effort forward. Swimming through the sludge and pushing yourself along was all you could do, for standing was certainly out of the question. Gravity conspired to pull you down, down, down into the muck, only concerted and concentrated effort keeping you above the waterline. Your muscles tired and grew less useful as you moved, despite no real physical body being present in this spiritual plane. You had to question just how real this all was, for it was terribly real in terms of pain and horror, but nonsensical in construction.

Not that there was much time to ruminate, for something boiled up from deep within the mire. Ghastly bubbles of cloudy funk broke the surface inches from your nose, throwing thick tear-drops of muddy awfulness into your face.

“Mmmmnaaaugh… Anonymous…” A dull and ghostly voice mumbled, some freakish mockery of a face rising from the slop to address you.

“GAH!!!” You barked and thrashed in the water as a mare lifted herself from the bog, her mud-soaked body kicking and squirming in the filth. Cloudy eyes and dark fur were so spattered with grime it was impossible to give her any personality, only the vague and meaningless shape of something that looked alive. She writhed toward you and grabbed your leg between hers, gripping with incredible strength you’d never expect from such a sickly and frail looking creature.

“Augh! G- get off me! God damn it!” You belted and kicked at her fruitlessly, for yet more emerging bodies boiled up to the surface around you.

“Anonymous?”

“Urrrrrnnng…”

“Help us…” Stallions and mares and diamond dogs and all manner of creatures came out of the mud to grab onto you. Desperate limbs and sharp claws and needy teeth dug into your body like you would somehow grant them freedom from this wretched suffering, only serving to slowly pull you down with them.

“Rraugh! Let go of me! GET OFF! Son of a bitch!” Beating against the deathly faces of the departed did no good, for their pain was already so monumental that it hardly affected them to be punched or slapped. They all shared this horrible bog, forming the water, the sludge and the half-dead floor beneath in one massive stew-pot.

“Save us, Anonymous!”

“He’s here… he’s here…”

“Living soul, a living soul!” The water climbed higher and higher up your neck until diamond dog paws grasped about your mouth, silencing your brash protests against this fate. There was no telling how this would end for you, whether the perceived reality of this hellscape could actually hurt you or not, the very real sensation of drowning was booming in your chest. Much like a dream your body was in utter panic, feeling the very carnal presence of death looming nearer to you in that moment. A dozen limbs were dragging you down into the mud, calling your name and begging for help until you joined them in this suffering.

Only when an ethereal force seized you by the ankle did you find any respite from this torment. Yanked and jerked free from the grabbing hands and the biting teeth, the strength of ten stallions pulled you along the slick grime of the pool and toward the shore. For a moment you feared your foot might just come off, perhaps some predator had bitten down on it and was now taking you wherever it intended to do its gnarly work. Instead however you were unceremoniously cast up and out of the water, falling harshly to the shore and retching up whatever grunge had seeped into your throat. Ears ringing, heart pounding, and vision obscured by filth, your savior hid behind this veil of confusion with odd stillness to them.

“See now have I what hath excited them.” A baritone and comforting voice rang inside your skull, the patrimonial tone of a strong man you hadn’t heard since your own father’s voice. Swiping away the sticky mess from your eyes, you were able to look upon the one that had rescued you.

“Haahn… heugh- ECK! Pfeh… thanks, stranger.” You whimpered, beholding a mighty and tall stallion draped in rough robes. The dark burlap lay over him like a sagging wet hide with multiple holes punched through it. A single glimmering eye stared back at you from beneath the hood, a shocking blue against a backdrop of rust-colored sludge. Whoever this stallion was, he was unusually massive. So large in fact, he made you of all people feel small. A complete lack of reaction or natural motion complimented his statue-like presence, for he didn’t even twitch or emote when you stood and shivered like a cold babe.

“You are a strange creature.” He said simply, gently gazing over your tall form with his eye.

“But… recognize this stallion, I do.” The pony grunted with a strange accent, as if he had come from a foreign land that spoke some proto-language long lost.

“Then you can guess why I’m here?” You asked intrepidly, prepared to jump back and run if this too turned out to be some demonic trickery. The stallion said nothing and simply stared at you with his face cold and motionless like a rock.

“Come. To my Son, answers I can provide.” Without so much as a bow or a nod the monstrous stallion turned about and made his way down the shore. A slow and methodical trot that was easy to follow, unlike his words. You cocked an eyebrow at him calling you such a name, though you hadn’t the wherewithal to question it. Cautiously you and him crawled along the shore of the swamp, ducking under sharp outcrops of stone and treading on makeshift bridges. Rivers of slime ran down from the fleshy forests above and into this damned valley, an outpouring of awful smelling fluids into a nation-sized cesspool. Silently you thanked a higher power you were thrown so close to shore.

This mysterious guide moved with care and experience, as if every rock and stone and crack and tentacle had been memorized long ago. He paid no mind to the looming statues of faceless monsters and long-dead tyrants, the shallow pools of still bodies bubbling in rot nor the foul stench. Along the cliff face he walked, tucking into a suffocating crevice buried in the warm and humming rock.

“Down, down. In the earth is safety.” He whispered in his strange accent like someone was watching closely, prompting you to creep gently down the smoothed hollow. Decades of use had probably taken many of the blade-like protrusions from the wall, for the sheets of sharp stone outside were worn down to acceptably smooth and pebbly surfaces in here. There was also plenty of tool marks on the wall, your keen eye recognizing chisel and file marks etched into certain places. Between the layers of primordial sediment, impossibly preserved spears and arrows and bones jut out, as if they had been buried beneath a million years of rock only a week prior. Fires burned in rough braziers heaped with strange planks of splintery wood and thistle bushes, each tendril of orange and red flame reeking deeply of sulfur and burning violently. Some distance into the cavern things opened up and spread the walls apart more comfortably. The stony womb encasing you both was wreathed with strange decorations and talismans crafted from iron and stone roughly shaped. Rusted and rotted spears and swords and shields lay against the wall at one end, a dense pile of weeds and mosses at the other serving as some dreadful bedding. A hissing crystal of red light shimmered in a cage hanging from the ceiling, keeping the place somewhat illuminated when stagnant blood dripped from the cracks and crevices. The air was suffocating and slow, mingling around the place rather than flowing out to relieve the thick stench within.

“Come hither and post thyself in a manner that pleases. Offended by your presence shall I be not.” He hummed quietly and sat atop his messy bed of reeds and dead plants, peeling back the hood draped over his head. Bluish-white fur long since spackled over with mud and filth shone through the red light above, bristling muscles beneath it revealing an unparalleled level of masculine strength. You cocked an eyebrow at the tall and pointed horn emerging from between his eyes, the shocks of electric blue mane sprouting around it accenting its unusual length. Normally such a threatening and sharp thing was only seen on accomplished alicorns imbued with divine magic.

Cautiously injecting respectful care into your sluggish movement, you eventually sat before him on the warm and wet floor of his miserable little hovel. Examining him up and down you discovered he was a most unusual thing to see in a place like this, from the ends of hooves to the tip of his tall horn.

While you stared in confusion at his shiny blue armor and his scarred body, he gaped at your strangely familiar figure. As you struggled to comprehend folded wings hiding beneath his cloak, he likewise scowled at your unusually clean and uninjured body. The two of you gaped at the other with distinct stares of utter confusion masked by a polite restraint. He dare not speak and you dare not question him, as both of you beheld an entirely unnatural thing.

“So… you live here?” You started quietly with a glance thrown about the room. The alicorn cleared his throat and grunted, his deep and reserved voice rumbling his barrel of a chest like the bass on a heavy set of speakers.

“Home in this place I must make. The outside, dangerous she is. Wind doth blast from the crucible and flay unprepared flesh. Lowlands safer. Belly of the rock safest.” Between his accent and sentence structure you struggled to follow his words. Slapdash sentences rattled out of him like rust from an abandoned machine.

“Why come to this place has Anonymous?” You could’ve returned that question quite happily, had he not used your name in such confidence. To hear your name spoken from the mouth of a stranger, a hermit somehow living in your wife’s own mind, drove any ability to think from you. Thoughts came to a screeching halt and slammed against the inside of your head in a process that must’ve painted quite the expression on your face, for your unusual host became somewhat flustered after he spoke.

“You know me?” Your words were fearful, understandably so. The mysterious alicorn swallowed a lump in his throat, tossing and turning the words in his mind in great efforts to construct a proper, less frightening response.

“For many years, have I watched ye. From the moment thee cometh into my Darling’s life, have I observed.” He said with a tone of pride hinting his otherwise dull and exhausted voice.

“In this place, to observe is but a function of us. Connected all are we to the Queen.” Another span of tense silence lay between you two as the strange notions and ideas crushed against your chest.

“Sense me that ye art confused. Umbra to you has explained this place, yes?” Slowly shaking your head, your clammy hands came together to wring against themselves in a pensive terror.

“Hm… secretive. Admire her resolve to be tricksy, do I.” His lip quivered in a manner that almost resembled a grin.

“Within this world doth she store all souls consumed. Talents, memories, drives, ambitions- a vault to forever contain he who before Umbra stood. Kill them, then devour their essence of being, she would. All who share this fate, here they come. To rot and to suffer just as she doeth.” In his eyes a cloudy memory took shape and consumed his vision. Your burly host stared off into the middle distance for quite some time before he snapped back to attention and looked to you with concern.

“Mayhaps distorted becomes mine vision. A place for a loyal husband, this plane be not. How comes a human such as ye here? Layeth thou not this evening next to mine Darling and take her assuringly to thine breast alongside the bastion of thine first wife?” Of all the things you wished to respond with, of all the sentiments you wanted to express and blurt out, of all the impossibly complex things you could say to him, the most wretched and simplistic drivel was all that could find its way through the maze your throat had become.

“Just visiting.” He nodded gently and softened his expression. The worry drained from his face, though it was really quite difficult to track any change in emotion when his stiff muscles hardly moved.

“Hm. Pleased I am. A good husband are you. Sadness would striketh me should ye die.”

“I appreciate that.” You returned with a weary smile, sucking a sulfur-tinted breath and coughing as the sharp air burned your lungs.

“I appreciate you saving me, too.”

“Tarry upon it not. Consume without remorse doth the blood swamp. For mine Son, t’was a noble task.” Again the use of that word hit you. Bolts of fearful lightning erupted in your chest and mind when he looked down on you with such an unusually adoring visage.

“In ye see I that confusion is rife still.”

“Yeah… you could say that.”

“Apologies. Watcheth, so long have I. Forgetting that never have we truly met.” Offering an armored hoof to you, the cloak fell from the stallion’s shoulders somewhat and revealed the majority of his unusually stalwart dress. Taking hold of it naturally, you felt distinct shock when the glittering blue was no mere metal, but solid gemstones stained by soot and slime.

“Anonymous. Umbra’s husband.”

“Stoic Stone. Father of Umbra.”

That you were shaking your half-father’s hoof was shocking in its own right. That your hitherto unknown half-father had been trapped within your wife and watching over you since you had come in her life was also rather shocking. That Luna knew he waited here and suffered endlessly thanks to Umbra, defied your use of the English language. For quite some time after that, Stone explained himself in simpler and simpler terms.

Fifth heir to the Crystal Empire, military general, gifted practitioner in geological magic, enjoyer of brass instruments, enthusiast of comedic plays and father of your wife. The mysterious, never mentioned father of your mysterious wife. You had heard Umbra mention her Mother all of one time in all your years together. A passing comment about how Celestia was “...older than my grey, brittle mother and somehow far uglier.” But her father, the stallion that supposedly raised her, was never mentioned.

Ever.

No one ever asked, but with all the stories of campaigning and witchcraft and devious acts she boasted to you and her book club, it only now occured to you how strange it was that she never even spoke his name. How dreadful it must be to sit here, within his own daughter and watch his memory fade to nothing. Gawking at him with wide eyes and pursed lips, the words capable of addressing such a bombshell fizzled into nothingness. Your throat turned to a desert as Stone simply sat there, evidently far better practiced in processing these emotions than you.

“To a son fatherhood ‘tis but a component of his strength. That I was absent to know a young stallion such as thee… mine heart swells with regret. Mayhaps unto I a grand debt rests.” You couldn’t reply to this now unusually holy and powerful figure before you, for it felt as if an ancient saint had miraculously risen from their tomb and touched you in blessing. The long-dead Emperor smiled understandingly, albeit with the tiniest movement of his lips such a smile demanded.

“Genesis of mine Darling’s angst… long ago such it was. Can the proper words come into this mind? Should perception so flawed be fit to recall history so grand? A heart tied tightly to the agony itself unto the world bred, wherefor can a stallion place his hoof such that the gravity shant sweep him off to perdition such as here?” He sighed quietly and lay his head against the warm stone, listening to the internal pulse of this constructed and living realm.

“Good fortune unto thee, as punishment for me. This weakness of mine, must relive it upon the setting of the moon and the shutting of eyes. Peace unmatched hast thou fostered within Umbra, as she clings to thine breast and soundly slumbers. Yet this sentence unchanged marches into eternity. Even now… forgiveness turns against this wretched old horse with embarrassment.” Misery overcame his ability to speak in the moment. The very top of a bubbling and fermenting awfulness nearly cascaded over his throat and dripped out as a sob, yet Stone buried it as he always had. There was something admirable in his namesake ability to drown out and conceal his truest emotions, but some part of you suspected that perhaps this habit was at its breaking point.

“The time is nie… in flesh sinketh the hooks of wretch blizzard winds.” In the blink of an eye a sharp cold rushed over sweaty and sticky skin. Dry air blasted across your face and ripped the composure from your thoughts with a singular effort. Both eyes were immediately forced shut when the furious current blustered against your front and numbed your body. The world again shifted and molded around you, as if the eternal rock and solid earth were transient and flowing as sea water. No small amount of frustration hit you as things became less and less sensible and all-powerful figures tossed your consciousness around like a baseball. The sound of screaming wind deafened you and concealed the transitioning reality swirling about.

Darkness descended. Your muscles no longer responded, for they were just as ethereal and distant as the rest of you.

“Open thine eyes and behold.” Stoic Stone’s voice moved through your very being in waves of power, as if he spoke within you. Creeping weight like a thousand suns pressed to your shoulders, squeezed your heart and crushed the air from your lungs. Suffering unlike any you had ever felt turned inwards, such that your mere existence in this moment was torment. Stone, crystal, draped canvas and sunlight melted into one another until solid objects were formed. Mighty pillars holding aloft skylights of cut gemstones. Running carpets of soft wool dyed with the colors of the divine. Equine bodies glad in steel plate and mail coifs, silently standing above your kneeling form.

Blue armor so heavy that not a limb could lift it, say for those of a demi-god. Howling winds died down into a whimpering, creeping cold that crawled about the floor and leached into your bones. The very coldest you had ever been, like your mind had taken a corpse’s place. Hushed gales morphed into gasps, whines and sobs around you that echoed off the high walls of unbreakable construction. Downwards your shameful gaze peered to your kneeling form, shamefully sitting there and receiving your punishment.

“That Our eyes can behold such awfulness… what sits before Us, if not a traitorous beast?” A female voice berated you like the lashings of a whip. Instantly recognizable, you could only wonder who on Earth was speaking. In taking Stoic Stone’s place, the context of his memories slowly grew more and more apparent.

“Have We not suffered enough for you? Has your mind grown so deprived of purpose, that you wish Us to be humiliated further?!” Moving against your will, exhausted eyes hovered upwards under someone else’s control to address this angel of punishment.

A glowing alicorn much like Stoic, albeit far more feminine. The apparent Matriarch of the Crystal Empire glared hatefully at you in shimmering lights of blinding white. Her form was so bedazzled in diamonds and gems and beauty that it hurt to look upon her, especially since she looked down on you with unilateral disgust.

“Nothing to say… never a thing to say for yourself. A wretched child We have in place of a husband!” Her voice snapped at the pinnacle of her wrath, morphing into a choking sob to match the others in the room. Voices all around were smothered beneath their crushing misery that sang out like a choir. Most painful however, were the whines of a babe wrapped in rough cotton.

“This thing you’ve created… with Our own chambermaid no less?” Your apparent Wife foundered at the word and cried once again. Kneeling just next to you, was the very same mare that had caught your eye. A dark unicorn, her hair longer than all the rivers in the land and her eyes more brilliant than the lofty heavens. Healthy and well-fed from the castle kitchen, dressed simply in a maid’s clothes and simpering in utter terror. Even now, in this moment of distress, she was the most gorgeous creature to cross your visage. Umbra took the place of her mother just as you took the place of her father, leaving a mysterious third party to writhe and cry helplessly on the frigid castle floor. Tiny human hands reached and grabbed at the chilled air in hopes of Mother’s warmth, each little gasp and shout from the tiny creature drawing more tears from your equine lover.

“How could you, Stoic?! Ten generations of tradition shattered before the entire Empire! Before the Celestia Sisters!” Shamefully your eyes glanced side to side to figure out the gathered crowd. The throne room was full not only with guards, but judgemental eyes. Powerful dignitaries, noblemen, generals and princesses from across Equestria stood and watched as the Crystal Empire succumbed to a scandal. Young Celestia and Luna watched from behind their row of armed protectors in a state between disgust and sorrow. Not one in the arena of ponies even suggested mercy with their foul glares, for they all knew that your failure was unforgivable.

And every single one of them could continue staring and punishing you for all time. It mattered little to a heart hardened by a hundred lifetimes in war, politics and conflict. Just as your father and his father and his father before him had done, you had spent this near-infinite existence growing your Empire’s might. A room of aggravated nobles were but an irritation in the face of your sobbing love. Umbra wailed into her hooves and leaned heavily towards her child, yet chains and powerful guards held her back. She wanted nothing more than to dive after her bastard offspring and hold it tight. Motherly instincts commanded her to protect this defenseless child from the ice and the forces falling around it. Not a word could escape her bruised throat when a torrent of anguish continuously spewed forth.

All this and you were still silent. Unable to form a single word in protest.

“Both of you cretins ought to face my wrath… both of you ought to be humiliated as We have been! Perhaps if We beheaded the lot of you and cowered in the shadows for a hundred years, the world might forget this besmirched name of Ours and look upon Us with more than pitiable loathing!” The Empress choked and stopped herself. Maids and high-ranking advisors surrounded her like a shield, taking the role of protector you had so perverted with your actions. Her prying cries carried on for minutes uninterrupted. Not a soul dared to speak in the suffocating air. Deep in your heart, at the very most genuine dregs of your thoughts, you searched for sorrow and regret. But each time you found the tiniest kernel of emotion, it was for your beloved. The common mare that had taken your heart and twisted it in her hooves so effortlessly. The purest equine to walk this land and the most fertile womb you had even taken to bed.

Your wife was the true pinnacle of beauty, as all alicorns were. Loyal, devoted, energetic and pure in all the traditional senses. Four-hundred and some years of marriage, yet not a drop of love. Try as you might, there was no drive within to fulfill your duty to the Empire. In all other aspects you so naturally excelled because of your breeding. Your ancient and dedicated bloodline gave you such strength, power and knowledge. But no desire to continue it. A thousand armies made of strong, wise and veteran stallions filled you with but a drop of pride in comparison to the child helplessly writhing on the floor. Still lips could not begin to argue in your favor, but your right arm would draw a blade and cut down any foolish pony that touched your brood.

“Your majesty, your highness! Most honorable and merciful of all divine leaders in Equestria! Please forgive me of my transgressions! I-”

“Shut your mouth before We condemn your wretched hide to the mines! You worthless, conniving, filthy slave-mare!” The Empress barked back with fire in her eyes. The ear-splitting volume of her royal voice could deafen a normal pony in a room like this with such echoing walls. But it served only to fill you with some manner of reaction. A twitch of anger fluttered along your lip and caught the Empress’ seething glare.

“We see now… thou art distracted. So hopelessly distracted.” She seethed through her clenching teeth.

“Our poor, poor simpleton husband. The faintest whiff of dirty, common mare heat and off his mind goes. Down the river of depravity…” Your wife festered a devious and sharp smile at that moment. Her thick and healthy lips curled and thinned into a sharp line that cut her elegant shape in half. The old half that was once full of strained love. The new half that had been scorned beyond repair. You felt no fear for yourself, but your love and progeny faced the indescribable wrath of an alicorn wronged.

“Down the river… yes. The cleansing ice… What better medium exists to make that which is filthy and disgusting and rotten pure again?” In her eyes burned the ancient fire of corrupting anger. The negativity that had turned so many of your kind to ferocious evil and destruction in this ancient land. Fingers clenched harder and harder until the rough leather of your gauntlets groaned in protest. In your hands lingered a force powerful enough to crush bones and liquify flesh. All they wanted to do was wrap about her throat and silence her punishing rhetoric forever.

”Take that thing to the river and do what must be done.” The words boomed across the hall, shuddering all that was once solid and eternal. Rubbery flexes and ripples tore everything apart and sent you into the future, knee-deep in the snow and trudging forward under the sunlight. The rattle of armor, the exertion of armed soldiers pushing through the snowdrift and the whimpers of a devastated mare beat on your ears far louder than the screeching winds ever could. For whatever reason, you had elected not to cover your face or eyes, leading to them burning like fire had been lit under your chin. The pain mirrored just how twisted and enraged your heart was, watching as your beloved pressed forward before the small procession of guards guiding you to this punishing place.

The river was frozen over for most of the year, but in this strange moment during spring time the ice shattered in places sufficient to see the clear water. Sheets of white spread with inches of frigid, crystaline flow between them like scaly flesh splitting and leaking blood into the Earth. Umbra sobbed the closer and closer they came, exhausted and cold and hungry and holding her child close. If the poor thing had survived the battering winds and the agonizing cold, it was only because she smothered it in her waning warmth tightly as her failing body could. The bank was dotted with dark pebbles and splatters of white snow, though thankfully it was clear enough to see your own soaking boots. Umbra came to a stop before the water with her shivering and utterly devastated body quivering before you, her gasping and struggling babe buried in the fur of her chest and neck. She dripped from the ice melting into her fur, massive clots of the white powder clinging to her fluffy flanks, back and stomach. A shroud of snow that weighed her down, bending her knees and nearly breaking her back under the crushing weight.

“Sire… please…” She huffed, though her tongue was so cold it could barely move in her mouth. Your pair of guards flanked you as she waited for you to do as you were told. Looking down on her, the weakness always within burst forward again. That most powerful of your muted emotions flooded your throat and nearly forced out a gurgle that might’ve been construed as a word. Instead of exerting your authority, challenging the forces that be and claiming your dominance, you once again took the easy way out. Weakness drove you to draw your sword and in a flash fell your own men. Stallions you had trained from childhood to be your loyal and stalwart protectors were sliced and stabbed in a flash of motion. Umbra stepped back and gawked at you in absolute terror, for she had never truly seen your combat ability up close. Fluid and smooth and powerful motions made living flesh very quickly dead flesh, steel armor nothing before your razor-like blade. They died before they hit the ground, grunting and moaning as their lives were instantly taken instead of your beloved.

“Sire…” She cried as you sheathed your weapon and let the blood freeze across your face, its burning and stinging presence adding to the monumental agony within. Umbra recoiled when you robotically stepped toward her, surrendering her babe to you with a reluctance that shook your being.

“They are innocent… just a little one… please… they are your own flesh and blood!” Umbra could only whisper her begging words from her parched and frozen throat. You held the tiny creature in your massive palm and looked into its eyes, seeing yourself in its twisted face. The mixing of divine and common blood made for a gorgeous creature, a handsome beast twice the strength of any living commoner you’d ever known. Even now, as a fresh child completely unable to fend for itself, your progeny hummed with powerful magic and physical strength. Its eyes glowed with a dull green behind them, fuming with a ghastly radiation of corrupted power. So young, yet so impure. A god's strength perverted by a mortal's weakness.

“Spare them… take my life if you must. But you cannot destroy such preciousness.” Umbra begged with her hooves clasped together, pleading with you in the only way she knew how. The child reached out for you naturally, the tiny little fingers colored like soot grasping at the father they would never know.

“I have failed those that came before me. I am not fit to carry this name.” Your voice shook the land beneath and the heavens above. The entire world quaked when you finally made such a monumental decision and deposited the babe back in your lover’s arms. She took it quickly and buried them in her embrace. The show of mercy injected the tiniest warmth into her soul, allowing her quaking body to grow still and somewhat more confident.

“Go… never come back. Speak not my name for the rest of your days and forget my face.” You commanded boldly, taking the same tone with the mother of your child as you would with new recruits.

“The river leads into the village of Donnerstons. Make a new life there. You are capable of that, I know.” She gasped and pinned her ears back at your words, weakly pawing for you with her free hoof and falling to the dirt in a pitiable pile.

“But… but Master! You cannot abandon us! Your child, they need you!” She whined and crawled toward you like a bug desperate for prey, though you pulled away callously.

“Master, please don’t leave us! Weakness made us one! Now we shall suffer together! Hooves intertwined fore-”

“Silence.” You commanded sternly, cracking the surrounding ice with your voice alone and making your Lover hold her child tight in fear.

“I have chosen your life over my honor. Should I do what is right and true, it would be to see you both smothered beneath the ice here and now. But it is my choice to make and thus I have made it.” The apple of your eye, the sole gem of your long and storied life looked up at you with destruction in her posture. Devastated could not begin to describe how utterly ruined she was, for the entire world had cracked open and swallowed her whole. It burned you deeper than any fire could, but to watch her perish as you were commanded would certainly be worse.

“Now go. And take that disgusting halfbreed from my sight.” Again the world shuddered and waved like the ripples ruining a smooth pond. The once glassy surface of this realm broke down into a sparkling and sputtering mess of colors and sounds growing upwards from within the false earth. Whistling wind morphed into the ear-splitting cries of a baby as your own bundle began to weep shrill cries of rejection and its mother likewise broke down. Helpless to do anything, completely alone in this hostile and punishing world, they were condemned by the same callous hand that had brought this unto them.

The cries of a child became so loud and splitting that you had to shut your eyes tight and grind your teeth in response, that slight period of darkness transforming the world once again into someplace wholly different. The moment you were able to open your eyes, the world turned red.

Blood spattered on snow and stone, fires raging for miles in every direction, rusty iron sharpened to jagged points and billowing clouds of ash and soot blotting out the sun. Waves of burning heat radiated off the kingdom you had built and rode on the icy winds of a particularly harsh winter. The two extremes stressed and exhausted your already drained body, forcing you to your heavy knees before a gathered mob of shouting and screaming ponies.

“On this day we- the subjects of this wretched tyrant and his foul mistress- throw off the chains of slavery and servitude!” An unseen orator shouted to the crowd to your right with a husky and sinister voice. Gathered in the townsquare just beneath the crystal heart, thousands had come together from all walks of life to see your so-called “trial.” Peasants in ragged clothes, warriors in broken armor and ugly thugs bedazzled in stolen royal finery that once belonged to nobles and politicians. They cheered and banged their weapons on the hard gemstone floor of the castle so thunderously that your organs quivered in response.

“A new age has been born, thanks to the will of the people and their dear leader! The tainted purity of the Crystal Empire has been brought to heel! By its own downtrodden and oppressed!” Another booming cheer from the crowd gathered around you. It was at that time that you couldn’t help but stare down at your own armored hands, finding that there wasn’t anything binding you here.

No chains, no rope, no magic to hold this supposed dictator down. Whatever punishment this gang of violent revolutionaries had prepared for you, you had knelt before them willing to take it.

“Glory be to the King! Glory to the Revolution!” The crowd became a monolithic voice chanting the same phrase again and again and again, louder and louder and louder each time. Your ancient heart raced in your chest as your own child came around your side with a weapon in hand. Standing in Umbra’s place, a new figure of unchecked power perverted. Glowing green eyes, dark skin, sharpened teeth and polished steel armor. A horrifying creature that could’ve once been a human like you, but so poisoned by malice and hatred that no words could properly describe them.

He was tall and mountainous, just like you. He carried himself with the same posture as you. The chiseled profile of his jaw mirrored your own. Anyone with half a functional mind could see who he had come from, especially given his anthropomorphic shape. Your own son looked down on you with sickly sweet satisfaction in his grin, the flowing robes of red lined with white blowing in the howling winds of war and his long mane of dark hair tied tightly behind his skull. There was not a drop of goodwill in his sea of madness. And all the blame soundly rested at your feet.

“Father…” He huffed snidely whilst drinking in the taste of his ultimate and horrible victory.

“How does it feel to be at the riverside yourself?” Your own sword shone brightly in his hands, dimmed with age and spackled with filth. Kneeling there now, knowing you were to perish at the hands of your own mistake, you were once again left with nothing to say. Just as you always had in life, you refused to meet this challenge.

“I am ready.” Was all you groaned back, mouth so full of blood and swelling that it hardly sounded like your own words. His smile fell and his arm raised your blade into the sky, bringing it down with a mighty and single effort across the width of your neck.

Finally, blackness. A stretching and warm blackness that melted down into the muddy colors of this hole Stoic Stone called his home. The twisted realm of Umbra’s mind released you two from the vision and so kindly deposited the both of you in the stony womb. Stone lay across the floor on his side, huffing in exhaustion and grinding his teeth. A scare traced across his broad neck in a straight line of pink and purple flesh.

“Hrrrrnmmm… recall this do not I…” He hummed in distress, as if he had relived not only the moments, but the pain present within. You yourself were quite deeply submerged in the mire of this revelation, sucking for breath and choking on the sobs in your chest.

“Present to me is the changing of things because of ye… this much human-like thing that took upon it the shape of mine daughter t’was no recollection of mine.” You sweat profusely and tried to calm yourself, but some manner of absolute panic had descended over you in that moment.

“Progeny of thine loins be nothing to fear, Son. Repaid shall be you just as was to flesh and blood given. So say I, he who hath tasted the blade of one forsaken I made.” He sighed in submission to his fate, solemnly nuzzling into the hard ground of his chamber like a babe pulled from its mother.

“Anonymous… turn thine ear so heard this may be. In you is the making of a good stallion. Carry not fear for what hath happened to me… take on this lesson that again shall never be spoken. Through Umbra can thou deliver for Equestria a paragon of equine kind.” The world growled around you two and cinched itself like a seam being sewn together. The very stone itself trembled like a sickened stomach trying to expel you.

“Cannot I say with assuredness thine true purpose in this land. Alien you are, so brought to her you were for reasons beyond us. None but thee are so gifted to know their destiny. They will fear what she shall create, but create she must.” With one tremendous push, the cave crumpled in on itself and smashed you against the wall. Your participation in the infinite cycle of reliving those most horrible moments in Umbra’s life had alerted the mind to your presence. It knew you to be a foreign body like a fleck of dirt in the eye, thus it reacted quickly to spit you out. With a twitch of motion that crushed your form, instantly all calm was restored.

Laying back in your bed and staring at the ceiling. No profuse sweating, no locked muscles of absolute terror and only the slightest elevation in breahting. Though your head pulsed with intense pangs of discomfort and your throat was dry, there was no lasting damage you could feel. Relief should’ve been the first thing that swept over your racing thoughts, but that was simply out of the question when your dark wife loomed over you with a most accusing of looks on her face.

“Where has my King been?”