Stance & Oath

by Burningbloom78

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, King Sombra, Royal Guard, Suicide / Self Harm, Horror, Violence, Princess Celestia, Death, Sad, Princess Luna, Gore
Length: 7658

In the wake of the advent of King Sombra's army, a lone soldier rises from the mired earth, adamant to persist a while longer. Celestia and Luna weren't here yet; the soldier had to buy time, leading him in making the ultimate sacrifice.

King Sombra has conquered half of Equestria and he is looking to make Canterlot his next target, controlling his formidable slave army to lay siege to the capital, however, he is met with a staggering force of Princess Celestia and Luna's army, who had come to the Crystal Empire to seemingly put an end to the tyrant's cruel ambition.

The purpose of taking the fight to Sombra himself was to buy time for the celestial sisters; a reason none of the soldiers truly understood, but they trusted in their rulers. The army fought valiantly, but it was for naught, as they were wiped out by King Sombra's forces.

Among the dead bodies of his comrades and friends, a single soldier stands as the final opposition to King Sombra's ruinous march to the heart of Equestria's capital, Canterlot.

He needed to buy time until his princesses arrived, and he was more than able and willing to do so by any means he could, even at the cost of his life.

Published 2023-12-21 23:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-12-21 23:00:00 UTC

Second Wind

The Final Gambit

The sky blazed with fire; the blue expanse painted a blood scarlet. The vicious chilly wind howled in a desperate, eerie wail as faint shimmering flakes of snow fell upon the ice-encrusted earth. A legion of bodies lay scattered upon the white land, donned in white, gold, blue, and black colors; and symbols of the radiant sun and glaring moon were etched upon them, marred and ruined.

Weapons designed for war lay strewn amongst the silent battlefield, broken and scattered; some lay with their owners while others were alone, disappearing as the falling snow gradually engulfed them. Patches of snowy earth was bathed red where many clumps of ponies lay unmoving, dead. Their chests were split open with ruthless abandon: decapitated heads lay embedded in the cruel frost-laden ground; all of them torn apart like feeble prey in the sharp maw of a crazed Ursa Major and discarded like carrion left to fester and rot.

The northern icy wind swept over their bedraggled coats and disheveled manes; the snow from the burning sky fell on them, burying the bodies in slow, unmarked burials. These ponies deserved to be put to rest in Canterlot for the loyal service they provided, but instead they lay here; to be forgotten. None would know of their valiant sacrifice.

Beyond the sea of bodies lies an army of ponies layered in spiky dark grey armor and donning ominous-looking helmets that shined with a vivid, venomous green glare, standing rigid against the unforgiving gale with an almost robotic-like stillness. These were the perpetrators responsible for the massacre.

At their head is a lightly armored stallion with a mane and tail as black as an abyss, malignant eyes glaring a malevolent red, a long, curved black-red horn, a royal crimson cape flowing faintly behind him, and a black spear resting at his side. It was King Sombra, ruler of the Crystal Empire and the bane of all that was good and pure.

The ruinous despoiler swept his dark gaze over the corpses of his fallen enemies and cracked a devious smirk; he was satisfied with the victory. He could continue his destructive conquest to rule over Equestria without the bulk of Celestia and Luna's army attempting to impede him. He was about to raise his voice to command his legion of ponies to march forward to the equestrian capital, Canterlot, when he spots something moving under a pile of bodies. Squinting his hateful eyes, he saw a stallion; an earth pony, wrenching himself free out from under the bodies, desperately clutching a sword to his side.

The stallion huffed and struggled to stand, grunting with the effort. His light grey coat and black mane was caked in blood and snow, his sword was broken in half, and the armor he once donned that represented the sun was discarded in the snow. He heaved a desperate breath, billowing out a white fog from his shuddering lips as he forced his hooves to steady himself. He was shivering uncontrollably; frost had begun to develop over his legs, back, and parts of his face, yet he refused to succumb to the cold.

King Sombra gazed at the bright blue-eyed stallion glaring at him with an interest. His ear twitched as the crunching of snow came from behind and knew his slave army was going to deal with the defiant young pony. He raised a hoof to halt his silent soldiers and continued to gaze intently at the stallion. The will to fight on and oppose the dark tyrant intrigued him, and, silently, he strode forward, seeming to glide across the frozen wasteland with ease.

The stallion stood his ground as King Sombra gradually closed the gap, his tall imposing figure casting a daunting shadow over him. Exhausted yet unwilling to lie down, he gripped his broken sword with his teeth and readied himself for a deadly confrontation. Slowly did the stallion notice a pressure lingering in the blood-fouled air; an invisible weight had landed on his withers, not overwhelming, yet he felt sluggish.

King Sombra, his spear clasped leisurely in his magic, appraised the stallion closely like a predator stalking his prey. The stallion was wiry and lean; his muscles seeming to bulge as he tensed. He wielded a large broken sword that most ponies wouldn't be able to grip so confidently in their mouths, but then again, the stallion was an earth pony; they were strong fighters. Perhaps it made sense for the stallion to endure so stubbornly.

The stallion's blue eyes were half closed as if he could keel over at any moment, but in the presence of such a dark menacing figure, he dared not. He was panting hoarsely; his body ached from all over, and his vision tunneled and darkened. All he saw was Sombra smiling arrogantly, showing sharp teeth.

"Amusing," King Sombra rumbled, his deep, echoing voice carried by the wind; the stallion shuddered horribly. "You continue to oppose me." He looked around at the aftermath of the battle, his eyes giving hardly anything away except for dark satisfaction. "You persist while others fall. Oh, yes; you have spirit." He locked onto the stallion quickly; it made him recoil. "What a shame that you would perish here, like your brethren."

The stallion felt an encroaching, insurmountable fear rising within him like acid readying to vomit from his ailing mouth. His shivering became more apparent, unable to hide it from this massive dark pony. Still, he did not run; he firmly planted his trembling hooves into the numbing cold ground, and he gripped his sword tighter with his teeth as if it could bring him a swift comfort.

King Sombra cantered unhurriedly around the stallion, his black spear scoring the frozen earth. "You are strong to have survived such a massacre," he complemented the stallion, "but you are alone, now." He placed a stone-cold hoof on the stallion's withers, causing him to freeze up in trepidation. "You face against an army almost as ruthless as I am, yet you do not flee. You stand your ground in the face of death. I admire that; your struggle."

King Sombra's hoof slid off the stallion like a slimy, slithering snake and he trotted in front of him with a stare as icy as the Frozen North. There was something glittering in his evil eyes. He was looking for something, but whatever it was, he did not find it.

"Tell me something," he said casually as if he was speaking to an old friend, his husky, dark voice level and quiet but holding an authority the stallion felt he had to heed. "Where are those sisters you worship? They did not lead this foolish army to their deaths; that was him over there." King Sombra pointed to a stallion's decapitated head hoisted on a spear that had pierced through his mouth from the base of the chin. "Where are those cowards?"

The stallion, though horrified to be so close to this ruinous despoiler, felt his coat burn with indignation. The way the tyrant spoke about and belittled his comrades and friends that lay mutilated in the snow, of his rulers to whom he was sworn to defend with his very life, would be cast away with such dishonor and disrespect, made him fume. King Sombra knew, too, a mocking sneer across his grim countenance.

Princess Celestia and Princess Luna needed time to prepare a spell that could be enough to overwhelm King Sombra and put an end to his ruinous crusade, but since the tyrant had acted faster then they expected, the two sisters sent their army to the Crystal Empire in order to slow him down long enough until they could get there.

They were still absent, and the intrepid army who had fought so valiantly and courageously had fallen under the impressive might of King Sombra's vast legion of soldiers. The only one left was the stallion: beaten, bloodied, and battered. There was no hope for him to succeed in this mission alone, he knew that, but he still breathed, and he was going to make sure that he could fight off as many soldiers as he needed to.

"They...aren't cowards," the stallion strained angrily, barely able to keep the rage from his voice. He glared so intensely at King Sombra that the tyrant gave the stallion his full attention. "They will come, and when they do, you will be no more; nothing but a memory. I am here to buy them time."

A blaze of fury went alight in King Sombra's eyes, but then it vanished as soon as it surfaced. Instead, he looked somewhat excited, most likely from the prospect of a coming challenge. "You are here to ensure that I stay where I am? Amusing indeed," he said, uttering a dark chortle. "I am afraid that with your current state, you will fail this suicide mission."

King Sombra watched the glaring stallion hold his broken sword with one hoof and pressed the sharp blade across his own neck. Without looking away once, the stallion carefully moved the sword across his neck, slitting his throat, and making a long bloody line. He impaled the ground with his broken sword as the blood trickled from the self-inflicted wound onto the snowy earth, painting it red.

"I am still alive, aren't I?" the stallion retorted defiantly, seeing King Sombra narrow his sharp eyes. He gestured to the wound. "This line is one you will only cross if you kill me; and I will be sure to make that as hard as possible for you."

"A challenge." King Sombra uttered another dark chortle that sent shivers down the stallion's back. "With that stunt you pulled, you seem to have a bit of life left in you. I accept; let us see how well you can struggle."

Before the stallion could even utter a retort, he found himself flung back with such a powerful force that it swept him off his hooves and had him skidding across the bloodied landscape, tumbling to a halt and lying on the crimson snow. He let out a large gasp, coughing horribly. He looked at King Sombra through blurry eyes, who barely seemed to move from his spot.

"You're slow," the tyrant criticized with a small frown, his dark eyes gleaming maliciously. He gazed at the broken sword and kicked it with his right forehoof, landing it next to the stallion. "Get up and oppose me."

Snorting crossly, the stallion clenched the sword with his teeth and struggled to his hooves. He lowered his body in a battle stance, focusing hard on King Sombra. He blinked once and suddenly the tyrant was in front of him, hoisting his black spear in the air with his sinister looking magic to bring it down upon him. Though shocked at King Sombra's speed, he manages to dodge. The force of the hefty blow whirled a large amount of snow in the air, knocking the stallion back, but he stayed on his hooves, albeit barely.

Skidding on the earth, he leapt at Sombra, the glint of his broken blade reflecting the dying setting sun. He swiped down hard, but he found nothing; Sombra had evaded him with ease.

"You recover quickly; that's good to see," King Sombra said, twirling the black spear around him. "That shred of life clinging to you is serving you quite well."

King Sombra surged his spear forward with his magic to impale the stallion, but he was ready. He deflected the spear the best he could, feeling his teeth rattle painfully, but he did not let go. The spear surged toward him again and again with ruthless force; the stallion leapt and rolled and backed away, deflecting the heinous weapon whenever he couldn't evade. King Sombra all the while ambled around the stallion, studying his desperate struggle.

At last, the spear relented and flew next to King Sombra, but the stallion didn't have to time relax. Sombra's horn glowed an eerie red and he suddenly felt the ground lurch from under him. He had realized that he was being lifted up into the air and struggled feebly to release himself, but he was plummeted to the ground with a roaring crash, a wail of pain leaving his lips.

Addled with limbs aching, the stallion fought to stand up, but his head was forced into the freezing ground by King Sombra's steel-cladded hoof. He could barely breathe, shifting his head until he could glare defiance at the dark stallion. The tyrant was rather unimpressed; he showed a look of disappointment.

"Is this it?" he inquired dryly at the stallion. His sharp eyes narrowed with boredom, and he pressed his hoof harder against the stallion's head. "Well, you're only a soldier, so I shouldn't have expected too much. Your destiny is to die here, and destiny cannot be fought. It's hopeless to try."

The stallion espied a faint gleam twinkling in Sombra's eyes. Was that bitterness shining in them? There was also a twinge of sadness in the tyrant's voice. "What do you know about destiny?!" the stallion spat in furious confusion, struggling feebly to free himself. "You're nothing but an evil tyrant!"

King Sombra impaled the stallion's right hind leg with his spear, hearing him scream in torment. "Destiny can't be fought," he told the ailing stallion flatly, ignoring his anguished wails. "You have to accept it." He lowered his voice as he twisted and wrenched the spear out of the stallion as he elicited another cry of pain. "There is nothing you can do. The sooner you accept it, the easier things will be."

King Sombra kicked the stallion away from him. He tumbled to a halt, laying exhausted in the snow, the broken sword landing beside him. Barely able to raise his head, he saw through blurry vision Sombra trotting unhurriedly towards him, his black spear trailing in the bloody snow.

The stallion heaved himself off the ground, stumbling to balance himself. Panting heavily, he gathered his sword in his mouth, and took a few steps forward until he dropped it and fell back on the white earth, his strength seeming to leave him.

Between the freezing cold sapping what little energy he had left and his body throbbing with pain, the stallion laid his head on the snowy earth; motionless. His blue eyes were glazed and lusterless, seemingly staring at nothing. The wailing wind that roared in his ears began to deafen to a soft, low croon, as if inviting him to a long slumber; the thunder-throbbing beat of his heart slowed until he could no longer feel it pound against his chest, and he drew in what seemed to be his final breath.

As the shuddering stallion lay there dying, he began to have brief flashes overtake his darkening sight.

The stallion was in his bedchambers in Canterlot Castle, shining a silver-white blade with a ragged brown cloth. He looked tired but proud, and when he tensed his muscles to keep the large sword from falling on the floor, he'd grunt and twitch his eyes with pain. He had just gotten done with a recent training session with one of the senior guards, and although he barely managed to win, he had sustained a few bruises and aches around his stomach and legs.

It wasn't just any old training session, it was being observed by both Princess Celestia and her younger sister, Princess Luna. He regarded the alicorn sisters as regal deities who ruled over Equestria with a gentle fairness. He wanted to impress them both, to show them how well he had learned. The session was grueling, but he did come out as the victor.

As he sharpened his gleaming blade, a knock came from his front door. Bracing himself, the stallion got up, straining to suppress a grunt of pain, and opened his door to welcome the visitor. He almost gaped in surprise. Standing on the other side of the door was Princess Celestia. She seemed amused by his shock as she sauntered into his room.

"Great showing out there," Princess Celestia complemented, her magenta eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she turned to face him. "Defeating Reaver is no easy feat; I'm proud of you."

Heart swelling with joy, the stallion took a respectful bow, eagerly accepting the princess's praise. "I am honored to have given a satisfactory performance," he said gratefully.

Princess Celestia looked at him for a moment. There was a trace of annoyance in her gaze. Did he make her angry?

"Is there something the matter, Princess Celestia?" he asked her, feeling anxious.

Princess Celestia gave a vexed sigh. "You are not just a mere soldier; you were raised here by one of my closest friends," she said, her face making a pouting expression. "When she found you on Hearth's Warming and brought you here, I helped raise you. Luna too. I thought you would loosen up a bit; be more casual, especially when we were alone."

The stallion shuddered inwardly, remembering the cold winter he trekked alone, taking refuge in a Canterlot alleyway until he was found Princess Celestia's friend and taken in to be cared for. Ever since he was rescued, he lived in the castle and grew up to be a loyal guard to repay for the mare's and Princess Celestia's kindness.

The stallion was confused. Didn't Celestia want every guard to act this way in her presence? "Am I making you angry?" he asked her, his head tilted to one side.

Princess Celestia shook her head. "You aren't, but I want you to speak to me regularly." She looked wistful; her eyes fixed on something that seemed to be far away. "When you were a colt, you were oblivious to how important I was; you treated me as not a princess, but as a parental figure and friend. I loved those days."

The stallion felt guilty. He remembered constantly barging in on Princess Celestia whenever she had an important meeting with high-ranking officials of Equestria, or interrupting her during other royal duties, demanding to play with her whenever his adoptive mother was too busy. He guessed that Celestia not only missed that type of kinship but pined for it.

How could he be so shortsighted of Princess Celestia's apparent loss of kinship and loneliness? He was too focused on becoming a royal guard rather than paying attention to the pony he's meant to be a royal guard for. The stallion now felt the loss of his and Celestia's closeness.

"I apologize, Prin- Celestia," he corrected tersely, brushing his coat against hers as a gesture of love and fellowship. She was warm and soft to the touch. "I have been too preoccupied with my duties; I should be able to manage my job alongside with being your friend."

Princess Celestia let out an airy chuckle, leaning her muzzle to rub it against the stallion's mane. "My brave pony, you are doing an excellent job so far," she praised him lovingly, draping a wing over his back. "Perhaps I was a bit selfish in wanting more of your company to myself..."

The stallion shook his head quickly, staring up at Celestia's heaven-touched visage. "You weren't being selfish; you only missed the time we used to have, and it came to my notice how much I longed for those times as well. I'll make a better effort to spend more time with you." His cheeks went red. "You and the pony I called my mother saved me that day; my love and appreciation for you and her is bottomless. Becoming a royal guard to protect you and my mother's memory is the most I can give; I promise that with my life."

"You are strong and loyal," Celestia murmured, embracing the stallion tenderly as if he was her son. "Continue to protect me, become a guard all will know and aspire to be, and never give up. If your mother was still here, she'd be proud just as I am. You have a future full of greatness, Vinewind, and I am happy you have found it here..."

Don't give up yet...

A violent, rippling wave caused Vinewind to shudder, and then he greedily took in a desperate, raspy breath of tainted air, his dead and faded eyes beginning to brighten. The roaring of the Frozen North winds assaulted his ears once more, and his heart surged frantically with renewed life. His once-blank eyes adjust from the creeping darkness that edged them, revealing a blue-gray and white world littered with the corpses of his comrades. Slowly did his strength returned to him, but it was middling and left to be desired.

Vinewind glanced ahead and King Sombra readying the killing blow, his black spear looming over him. Tensing his muscles, he grabbed his broken sword and rose from the ground just in time block the death-dealing blow, sending out white sparks from the clash that forced him to squint of tired eyes.

King Sombra's eyes widened as he took a few steps back, not with alarm, but with intrigue. "I thought I saw the light in your eyes darken, but you do indeed have a strong will," he told Vinewind with an unsettling smile, showing rows of serrated white teeth. "But that great spirit of yours will not be enough to get you through this fight."

Vinewind snorted and limped away, clenching his teeth at the fiery pain on the back of his right hind leg; he could feel the blood oozing from it. He settled his sword to the side. "I already told you; I am doing this to buy my princesses time. When they come, and they will, you will be dealt with, and all of my brethren here will be avenged!"

Without warning, Vinewind leapt at Sombra, raising his broken blade to slam it down on him, but the tyrant guarded it effortlessly with his spear, another flash of white light sparking between them. The two ponies began clashing, the area around them flashing with each clang of their weapons, the sharp clamor droning out the unforgiving gale of the Frozen North and shaking the very earth beneath them.

King Sombra went for jabs and swift thrusts that sliced Vinewind's shaggy coat and grazed his skin; he could feel the stinging pain and the oozing of his blood as he and the dark oppressor clashed. Vinewind could barely touch Somba with his damaged blade, merely striking his black coat. He was beginning to lose focus, his swings and strikes becoming sloppy and slow until, suddenly feeling exhausted, let his guard slip, taking a hefty blow to the stomach, blood and saliva escaping his lips.

Vinewind was sent flying through the air before crashing hard, rolling on the frozen earth before skidding to a stop. He held his stomach with his hooves, pain surging throughout his body; he felt that he was about to vomit, but he forced down the acid that threatened to well up in his throat.

Slowly, deliberately, he struggled to stand, opening his eyes to see his sword laying just inches in front of him, and King Sombra glaring him down with a look so cold and evil that he felt it could freeze him on the spot. He shook his head and lurched agonizingly to his weapon and picked it up in his chattering teeth, only to then stagger unexpectedly; the sword seemed heavier somehow, more cumbersome than he had ever felt it being. Was he getting so weak that even his sword felt too heavy to wield?

"N-no, please. Not now, not right here..." He could feel the coldness of the Frozen North more than ever before, and he knew his time was rapidly coming to an end. He needed more strength. "No, I can't," he vowed, straining to pick up his sword. "I haven't fulfilled my goal yet; I can't stop now. Come on... Pick it up. Come on!"

Struggling for what seemed to be forever, Vinewind lifted his sword with a great effort, feeling a burst of vigor flow through him. Able to steady himself despite the throbbing pain, he gazed forward to see Sombra glaring intently at him. Once again, Vinewind recalled, there was a glint in the tyrant's eyes as if he was looking at something and was clearly displeased at what it was. Vinewind didn't care what the tyrant saw in him.

Charging forward and letting out a battle cry, Vinewind swung his blade with all his might. It clashed with Sombra's spear, but it seemed the tyrant wasn't expecting such a ferocious attack; he began to stagger back and, losing his footing, and stumbled. Seeing his opportunity, Vinewind swiped ruined edge of his sword across King Somba's dark countenance, creating a long, ragged slash. Blackish red-like blood sprayed from the wound and stained the icy earth.

Vinewind heard King Sombra grunt and back away, placing a steel-cladded hoof over the wound. Hope surged within him; perhaps he could do this: defeat the ruinous tyrant himself and save Celestia and Luna the trouble. Yes, that is what he must do.

Though reveling in his strike against Sombra, Vinewind saw the tyrant regain his footing, glaring at him with not just malevolence, but with a tuft of faint excitement. He expected Sombra to look fairly concerned that a dying stallion could wound him, but then he saw something that sent shivers down his spine.

Sombra's slash wound had begun to fade; the skin that was sliced open began to heal itself until the wound looked as if it had never been inflicted. Even the blood that streaked the despoiler's dark visage had faded.

Vinewind trembled in shock. Sombra knew magic spells that could heal injuries. The tyrant sneered at him with a malignant grin.

"But how..." Vinewind was at a loss of words. The hope he just began to feel was beginning to whittle away, and slowly being replaced with despair. "How could you know something so ancient? You're no alicorn!"

King Sombra chortled, his menacingly deep voice ringing inside Vinewind's eardrums. "I know many things," the tyrant said obliquely, his curved horn glowing an eerie red. "You cannot hope to defeat me so easily. An earth pony like yourself never will, but you can try again and again as much as you are able. In the end, I will have my victory. But keep struggling," he urged evilly, "until that spirit of yours fades into NOTHINGNESS!"

King Sombra's booming voice sent a force of cold loathing that swept through Vinewind's coat. He had to stand his ground from being bowled over by the tyrant's oppressive shout. Clenching his sword in his teeth harder than ever before, he galloped limply to Sombra. Vinewind had to end this quickly, no matter the cost; Sombra was too powerful.

As Vinewind attempted to engage the tyrant, King Sombra sent out torrent of serrated black crystals that surged destructively across the earth. Although the sun did not shine, the crystal gleamed and sparkled. Skidding to slow himself, Vinewind dodged to the side, just barely out of range, but he couldn't be lax; another surge of black crystals gunned for him. He kept evading the crystals, leaping or rolling narrowly out of the way. If any of those lengthy crystals pierced his flesh, he'd be done for.

"Yes, that's it," King Sombra praised Vinewind. "Show me more of that spirit!" He stamped the ground as crystals jutted from out the earth around the stallion.

Vinewind dodged them the best he could, but when one did touch his cheek, he felt ice wash over him and a burning sensation. The burn felt like tiny needles impaling his flesh; it was nearly unbearable, and Vinewind found himself staggering multiple times as he tried to reach Sombra, but he did not fall.

King Sombra's horn glowed eerily, and small crystal-like projectiles shot forth, penetrating Vinewind's coat and skin. Convulsing, he let out a yell of agony, lost his footing and tumbled painfully across the frozen landscape. Black crystals formed over parts of his chest and forelegs, weighing him down.

Vinewind tried to rise from the ground, but straining his muscles caused a surge of pain to ripple throughout his body. Agonized, he laid still once more, unable to muster up any strength to move. All Vinewind could do was let in ragged, shuddering breaths as he tried to hold on to his life that was rapidly fleeting away.

Again, like before, flashes of his past blind his sight.

Vinewind was taking a brief refuge on a balcony, lying on a smooth, soft rug and watching the setting sun paint the sky a gorgeous scarlet. After a long day of training or patrolling, he would sometimes come to this balcony to witness the sun lowering and the moon rising. He's seen it many times before for years, but every time it was a marvel; he could never be tired of something so wonderful.

"Ah, it seems I have an audience this time," said a sonorous voice, elegant and beauteous. Vinewind turned to see Princess Luna cantering to his side and laying down next to him. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Vinewind, I am happy to see you. Were you waiting long?"

Vinewind shook his head, brushing his face against Princess Luna's chest. "I just got here," he told her, barely able to keep the joy out of his voice. "I like to come here and watch you raise the moon, especially if I had a long day; it's a beautiful sight." He lowered his voice. "I think it's more lovely than Celestia raising the sun, but don't tell her I said that."

Princess Luna stared at Vinewind for what it seemed to be forever, her icy blue gaze glimmering with an overwhelming amount of gratitude. She embraced him so tenderly yet tightly, she shuddered. "You have no idea how much I love hearing you say those words," she murmured, nuzzling the stallion, ruffling up his mane. "You have always loved the night. Your words help me than you can ever know, Vinewind."

Vinewind didn't know what Luna meant by that, but all he had to know is that she was happy and grateful. Although Princess Celestia and his adoptive mother raised him more than Luna did, whenever the starry princess did show herself, it was more than just a joy. Princess Luna was a mysterious, beautiful mare that wore her heart on her hooves, who would give Vinewind pleasant dreams that he'd remember for the rest of his life.

He loved her even more when he knew that she was the one responsible for raising the moon.

"Vinewind," she whispered. She sounded bashful, and her forehooves fidgeted slightly as if something was on her mind. "May I tell you something?"

"Go ahead," he said, gazing at her patiently. "You can tell me anything."

Princess Luna was blushing profusely. "I... want you t-to... tell me about how much yo-you love the night," she told him, stammering. "Hearing you talk about it... It makes me happy."

"Well," he began, "the biggest reason I love the night is that I was found by the pony I would come to call my mother. It led me down a path I would never change. Other reasons besides that are that I like how the moon looks: gentle and serene that produces a crisp glow, and the sky; how the stars twinkle and shine, puts me at ease. And there's one more..."

"And what's that?" Princess Luna entreated, enraptured by Vinewind's heartwarming speech.

"I have you," he said verily. "Watching you raise the moon is special, something I have the privilege to see. I could have died all those years ago if I wasn't found and missed out on what I consider to be one of my favorite things in the world. I'm just happy to be here and witness this."

Without a word to reply to Vinewind's passionate adoration for the night, Princess Luna brushed her muzzle against his, draping a wing over his back and pulling as close as she could get him and stared into his eyes. Vinewind saw an insurmountable love brimming in Luna's cool gaze, glistening and glossy; she was on the verge of crying.

"Your words are like a waterfall, my beloved Vinewind; a loving shower of praise and adoration washing over me," Princess Luna rasped, closing her eyes and placing her head against Vinewind's. She sniffled as tears began to flow down her coruscating visage. "This overwhelming euphoria I feel... My young Vinewind, how I love you. Persist and endure forevermore; do not ever leave us!"

"I will try with all my heart, Luna," Vinewind promised. "With all the life I can give."

You can't rest yet; it's nearly over now. Keep going.

Again, Vinewind's body gave a horrifying shudder, taking in tainted air and filling his failing lungs. He felt even weaker than the last time, yet the energy that flowed through him gave Vinewind just enough strength to endure, but this would be the last time he could evade death. He was tittering on the edge; the chilling grasp of the end striving to claim him. His ailing heart was beating so weakly he couldn't feel it, the roaring winds had deafened around him, and he could feel blood from most of his injuries seeping from their wounds. He didn't have much time left.

Vinewind moved his limbs with a great effort, his muscles screaming in agony for him to stop and rest, but he ignored the tantalizing pleas. He staggered and fell down multiple times, but he always got back up.

With a roar of pain escaping his lips, he forced himself to stay on his trembling, rime-covered hooves. He could barely see, the lurking tendrils of darkness crept around his eyes and threatened to blind him, but Vinewind focused hard to see only what's in front of him: King Sombra.

Vinewind heaved his bone-chilling sword from the frost-laden earth. He had to keep going until the princesses he cherished arrived; the ones who helped raise him. He could feel that they were close somehow. He can't stop. He won't stop. King Sombra would have to rip open his ribcage and tear out Vinewind's heart to stop him.

"So that's it," the dark tyrant said, his black spear twirling around him. "The magic of love has been keeping you from succumbing to your wounds. But seeing you now, the power of love will not save you this time. Why, even now, your death edges ever closer; it looms over your head. It will take little to see you off."

Vinewind closed his eyes and let out a long, raspy sigh. He opened them again, fiery conviction surging through his exhausted eyes. "Come on, then," he goaded rebelliously, his eyes glaring at the tyrant threateningly. "Bring it on! RAAAAH!!!"

Bellowing his battle cry, Vinewind limped pathetically towards King Sombra, pain spiking in each movement. The tyrant didn't even move or ready his weapon. He merely waited in silence; a mocking sneer plastered on his face.

Vinewind stumbled once or twice, but when he did get to Sombra, he hoisted his broken sword in the air and swiped at him. Sombra blocked it easily with his spear, knocking the stallion to the ground, but he recovered quickly and leapt at him. Again, the tyrant deflected the attack and smacked Vinewind hard across the face, sending him tumbling in the snow.

"Get up!" King Sombra demanded, stamping the ground with a steel-cladded hoof. "I want to see you struggle before I kill you. I will beat the magic of love out of you!"

Nose and mouth bleeding, Vinewind let out a yell of anger and defiance, forcing himself off the ground and dashing at Sombra. They clashed, each swing getting faster and harder, the thunder-banging clamor of their weapons filling the frozen air. The ground beneath them shook horribly and flashes of white erupted from their weapons with each devastating clash.

Vinewind blocked and dodged and ducked the best he could, ignoring the sting-cutting agony when Sombra's attacks managed to connect. He had gotten a few cuts on the tyrant's coat and legs, and they weren't healing soon after he inflicted the wounds.

The two combatants sent their weapons in for another clash so powerful it knocked them both away from each other. King Sombra skidded on the white ground while Vinewind stumbled and fell back, barreling into the snow before rolling to a stop.

"Yes, that's good!" King Sombra bellowed excitedly, not bothering to heal his wounds and letting his blood drip onto the snow. "There's that spirit. Let's see how you handle this!"

Before Vinewind could even recover from the ground, King Sombra blitzed to him so fast, he had barely enough time to stave off a killing blow from his spear. Sombra was standing over him, his wicked eyes sending a torrent of fear coursing through his mind, but he managed to keep himself from panicking.

Vinewind narrowly dodged deadly thrusts from the spear, feeling the ground shaking with each impact. When King Sombra went for another one, Vinewind deflected it with his sword before then tucking in his hind legs against his stomach and jutting them upwards, bucking the tyrant's underbelly so hard he was able to force him away.

Stumbling from the sudden attack, Sombra was winded. Seeing his opportunity, Vinewind heaved himself off the ground and leapt at the tyrant, bowling him over before he could have a chance to retaliate, the spear clasped in his magic dropping into the snow. He straddled atop the tyrant, rose his sword in the air and sent it plummeting into his heart, twisting the sword so it couldn't be dislodged easily.

An eerie wailing howl so chilling and unnatural that no normal pony should ever make came from King Sombra. He twitched feebly, gasping for air until he went limp, his eyes closing. He was dead, Vinewind was sure of it. No matter how powerful Sombra was, he was mortal like any other pony and could be killed as such.

"I did it, somehow," Vinewind rasped, the last of his strength leaving him. He had nothing left, but at least he had stopped this foul tyrant. "I avenged my fallen brethren and saved my princesses a deathly confrontation. It's over, it's-"

Vinewind's eyes widened as a sudden sharp pain erupted from his back, moving through his body until it came out his chest. He gazed down in shock. The black spear had impaled him. Vinewind felt dizzy, the world around him slowing to a crawl as he lurched forward, into the open eyes of King Sombra.

That wasn't possible; Vinewind had stabbed the tyrant in the heart; he should be dead, but there he was: his baleful eyes locked onto him. It just wasn't possible. Sombra wasn't immortal; he should be like any other pony. Vinewind couldn't understand. All of that struggle was for nothing.

"You seem to be troubled," King Sombra sneered, his hauntingly dark voice making Vinewind shudder. He was pushed off as Sombra rose to his hooves, dusting off snow from his outfit. "You thought you won?" He clenched the sword in his chest with magic and yanked it out, unflinching. "Well, at least you tried."

Vinewind watched through darkening eyes as his silver-white sword was discarded, too stunned to speak. How was King Sombra able to live such a death blow? Was he pretending to be dead so Vinewind would lower his guard? If so, Sombra truly was mad.

"Such tools of war are nothing to me," the dark tyrant said, chortling. "I'm no regular pony, fool. I'm something more than that, and it's that something a solider like yourself will never defeat."

Vinewind could only stare in horror, coughing up blood that oozed from his mouth. All the injuries weighed him down; he was completely beaten. He had failed them. He couldn't keep Sombra occupied long enough for them to arrive. He had thought he felt them, but they weren't here. He shuddered horribly, his life bleeding out from under him, staining the white earth scarlet.

King Sombra cantered unhurriedly towards him, basking in his victory, his spear beside him. He placed the sharp end on Vinewind's slitted neck, which had begun to close, and reopened the wound, making it bigger. Vinewind felt his flesh tear and blood seep out. He convulsed, choking and sputtering, his blood welling up in his throat and making it difficult to breathe his last final breaths.

"I will watch the light in your eyes fade," King Sombra hissed, resting his spear at his side. His heinous eyes gleamed with an evil so vile that Vinewind could barely look at them. "You were strong, adamant, and foolish, a perfect blend of a hero. But you failed; your princesses have not shown themselves." He pressed a hoof hard against Vinewind's bleeding throat. "It seems you were holding out for nothing in the end. They have deserted you, left you and your allies to die painful deaths. Everything that you've done was for nothing, and you will be forgotten, buried under the snow for eternity."

Vinewind's blue eyes were dark and faded, red with tears streaming down his battered face. He wrapped his hooves around Sombra's, trying desperately to remove it, but his strength was no more, and found he could not. He choked, gurgling on the bubbling blood building up in his throat. He scraped the ground frantically with his hind legs, but he could not move no matter how hard he struggled. His heart threatened to burst from his chest as his lungs was cut off from the air.

"Like I said before," Sombra murmured, grinning with dark satisfaction. "It's a shame you are to perish with the rest of your brethren. Farewell, you foo-"

A faint golden light caught King Sombra's attention and he leapt out of the way as something crashed beside Vinewind. He heard muted voices, but he could not make them out. He could hardly see what was happening, his blurry vision going in and out. There was a dark barrier enveloping the area around him and he heard the same muted voices again, the faint crunching of snow near him. He closed his eyes and went limp to let death sweep over him, but then felt something shake him gently awake and something wet graced his dull and bedraggled face.

Vinewind stirred and his blurred vision adjusted to see two alicorns looking at him with dread and desperation in their eyes. He knew these two ponies. Was he imagining them? He went limp again, only to be stirred once more. He stared at them and then his eyes widened. It was Celestia and Luna. They were here; he hadn't failed them after all.

"You... you both came," he rasped quietly. Shame washed over him in waves. "He was too...too strong for us. Too strong for me. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

"Nonsense!" Luna shrieked, her voice cracking. She lightly pressed a hoof on his throat to stop the blood flowing. "Vinewind... Oh, my sweet Vinewind. You did your best."

"But I... I-"

Celestia brushed his ruined mane softly. "Don't speak too much," she murmured, sniffling. She was shaking horribly, but from him or the Frozen North's chilly winds, he did not know. "It's okay; I can heal you. Everything will be okay. I promise. Just hold on..."

Vinewind shook his head. "I can't...be saved. Listen... Listen to me," he rasped, trying to breathe, his chest heaving with the effort. "Sombra can't... he can't be killed; I tried. You both have... have to find another way..."

Celestia held Vinewind's hoof with her own. "There is a way," she told him, brushing her muzzle against his cheek. "We have to imprison him; there is no other way for us to defeat Sombra."

"We have the spell necessary to defeat him, and when we fight," Luna said, her voice growing furious, "we will make him pay dearly for what he has done." She placed her head atop Vinewind's. "My little Vinewind... You can rest easy and have many pleasant dreams."

The dark barrier was struck by shards of black crystal and Vinewind knew King Sombra would break it soon.

"You both...can mourn me later," Vinewind uttered. He spoke so low that the two sisters had to lean close to hear him. "Save Equestria, please..."

Celestia stared hard into Vinewind's dull eyes and nodded solemnly. "For your sake and the sake everypony who perished today, you have my word that Sombra will be defeated."

Luna kissed Vinewind's forehead tenderly before rising from the snowy earth, rage and sadness glimmering in her eyes. "Have your rest, my sweet Vinewind. Your mothers have a job to do."

"Indeed," Celestia agreed. "We will make sure this ends today, Vinewind."

Vinewind stared at them with hope, his failing heart swelling with pride. "I love you both. I always will."

"And we love you, Vinewind," Luna said softly.

"I will make sure ponies remember you and the ponies who died defending Equestria from that monster," Celestia vowed.

Vinewind hoped he and his fallen comrades were. He could rest easy knowing the ponies who helped raise him will succeed; he prayed for their victory. He was fearful for them of course, but he had to put his faith in them. He wouldn't know what the outcome of their battle would be, but Vinewind felt that they would win.

The creeping darkness began to swamp his sight as Princess Celestia and Princess Luna turned their backs to him. The barrier was lowered, and he saw them engage King Sombra before his eyes closed. His heart ceased to beat, and his last breath left him, for good this time.