I dream of green grass beneath my hooves, and a glistening tree of crystallized wood and leaves next to me as I read.

I sound out the words again.

They still feel like peanut brittle, sticking to my teeth and the roof of my mouth, coating my tongue in a discomfort familiar to those who have passed the borders of a country and are now struggling to learn the language through osmosis.

The sunlight filters through the crystallized leaves in a symbiosis that leaves refracted dapples of light dancing across my fur. The leaves dance lazily in the wind, scattering the light like papers knocked off a desk by a particularly wry feline who demands you go to bed at a specific time.

I get distracted from my work of trying to learn a language that has never worked for me. I see someone bounding through the grass, skidding to a stop nearby.

The pink-purple-lavender-magenta pony waves, the colour of her coat ever shifting. I do not question it. I shrink into myself, trying to make myself seem as small as possible and hoping with desperation that she was waving at someone else.

I come here to be alone, however, and a lot of the foals of the orphanage don't bother coming here. The matron knows, but never tells my secret area to them.

(Surely she knew of the ostracization that the other colts and fillies put me through. I would assume she doesn't do anything about it because she has others to look after.)

The pink-rose-purple-twilight pony draws nearer, a gleeful grin on her face as her periwinkle-baby blue-light blue-aquamarine mane gets into her face. It's scruffy and definitely messed up, twigs and leaves sprout from her mane before receding without any pattern to it, but she doesn't seem to care as it covers one of her eyes, glistening with barely restrained mirth.

I prepare myself for the barrage of insulting mockery that's clearly about to take place.

"Do you ever have such a nice dream that you don't want to wake up from it?" She asks, and her eyes change.

I don't question it.

This isn't how our first conversation went, but I do not question it, and I shake my head to say 'no'.

"I'm Radiant Hope! You're a newcomer to miss Chestnut's orphanage, right?"

I nod to confirm that I am indeed a newcomer to Chestnut Falls' orphanage. I do not remember having any parents. I was found without them.

(It was cold and wet.)

"Sooo, what's your name?" She tilts her head.

I speak the only word I can, at this point in time, and it is the word that has since become my name.

"Sombra."

My voice feels too high pitched.

"Wowie, you're kinda quiet. That's fine, though, all the other fillies say I talk too much, but I can speak for the both of us!"

She was always talkative.

"Shy, too. That's fine, I also get shy around new ponies most of the time."

I nod, looking at her. She shifts and changes in a perpetual motion, brought to life with a central rhythm that sustains the earth below us.

Her voice is like sunshine, filtering through leaves on a good day, small specks of warmth across my gray coat.

She keeps talking, yammering on about this and that, before the illusion cracks, and she looks at me in an odd way.

Scrutinizing.

I see several shards fall from a mirror.

My nerves fray at the edges like poorly-worked yarn.

"You need to wake up, Sombra."

Her voice is different. Colder, like moonlit nights in the winter-

No, how...?

She shouldn't be able to get into my dream.

I see a blinding light from Hope's horn. The magical spark is blue.

The magic that swirled around her horn is supposed to be gold.

Sombra awakes with a start, bristling in discomfort at the thought of the Lunar Princess invading his mind just to extend his torture.

He experiments with moving one of his front hooves, the barest hint of pleasure at the feeling of constant pins and needles abating, now filling the muscles in the limb with a less-irritating stiffness that's easier to get rid of.

A small grunt escapes him, before he closes his eyes, perfectly willing to succumb to the 'just woke up' drowsiness.

After all, if he's going to be spending an eternity here, why not spend some of the time in recollections of simpler, happier times?

Something collects on his lower eyelashes.

He can't entirely remember what Hope looked like. Even within dreams, she was constantly shifting, constantly refracting into discordant shards of crystal that didn't quite match up to form a proper structure-

And he couldn't repair the cracks of his damaged memories with gold.

Did something go wrong with the revival that the Element of Magic had performed?

Why was it that he could remember the matron, the motherly figure of the orphanage, with perfect clarity, but he couldn't remember what his best friend looked like?

A vague sense of what the colour of her fur was, along with her mane's colour, but not the style that her mane was done up in, not the colour of her eyes, and just the barest hint of remembering her cutie mark.

He could remember the sound of her voice. Lilting, like sunshine.

He clings to the memory, begging for it to be kept instead of burnt up.

She's likely dead by now.

Time refused to wait, while Death was incredibly patient, and would reap what was sown when it was due to be harvested.

Something rolls down his cheek.

He doesn't remember parking his hindquarters under a crack, not that he could move all that much anyways. And there have been no signs of water damage within the cell.

It slides into his mouth, and there is the taste of salt.

Ah.

His ears pin back. Disgusting. He isn't supposed to be showing weakness like this. He was the Mad Unicorn King of the Crystal Empire. Not some stupid little filly crying over something as simple as spilled milk!

He takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, then releases it again.

He could grieve later. When he was out of this awful accommodation.

The little 'tink, tink, tink' of hooves, dressed in fine horseshoes, clicking against the tiles of the dungeon, causes an ear of his to perk up.

There's also the distinct sound of clip-clopping against tile, an obvious reminder that his captor doesn't care to wear armour on her hooves.

An irritated sigh escapes him, before he closes his eyes again.

Muffled conversation. Try as he might, he can't ignore it, given that it's the only stimuli that he's had since he woke from slumber.

"I knew you'd done something, Twilight. Whether or not this was a good decision will be up to you to decide, and hindsight will be the judge on that."

The Lunar Princess' voice. Cold, moonlit nights in the dead of winter.

She's speaking to Twilight.

"I figured that we could at least get some pointers on how to use dark magic from him. It's incredibly likely that he's an expert in it."

Stardust, the galaxies that were painted against a backdrop of dark blue.

"He's incredibly dangerous. You don't know of the damage he could do, both to yourself and the Crystal Empire."

"That's why I called upon you for some guidance."

A lull in the conversation, before one of them pipes up again. The younger Princess.

"I've placed him under a few wards that should help with healing and magical recovery, as well as nullifying any spells he tries to cast. There's a shield spell around him just in case the wards wear out."

"And what then? What will you do after you've gotten all the information you can?"

"Well, he'll either have to be executed, or released under parole, with strict terms involving never being allowed passage to the Crystal Empire again."

Like hell if he wants to go back there anyways. The idea of going back there, to see his successor and their happy little family while he's left without his best friend (or any friends, really), makes him want to spit in disgust.

"And what happens if you release him on parole, and he breaks the rules that have been set?"

The Lunar Princess was always one for particulars, for covering every possibility in plans.

"The option to execute him will still be there."

His horn sparks in slight outrage. The mere possibility of him, the Mad Unicorn King of the Crystal Empire, being executed on rusty old gallows like some commoner?

The little tink-tink-tink and the clip-clopping draw nearer.

"I'm going to cast a sound dampening spell, Sombra's displayed hostility at the sound of the door being opened."

"Why bother? He's a prisoner, Twilight."

"If we can't treat our prisoners well and even bother trying to rehabilitate them, then what good was reforming Discord? What good was a hoof reached out to Starlight Glimmer, who, need I remind you, was one of my previous students, and she did well enough to earn a medal of honor for her actions to reform the changelings!"

"It is ultimately up to you, I am simply saying that letting him rot in that cell is far too kind of a punishment."

"And how do you know that you're not biased, Luna?"

"While I am undoubtedly biased, I have seen the effects of his actions firsthoof. An entire nation has post-traumatic stress because of him."

"You're right, but we should still try to give him the choice to make it up to them."

"There is no making up for traumatizing hundreds, if not thousands, of ponies, banishing an entire empire and thus causing a deficit in trade routes to the North, and killing the original ruler in a coup." A pause. "The Crystal Empire was once a decent rest stop for travellers within the Northern Wastes before they travelled further North."

"...I'm going to cast the dampening spell now."

Phooey. That meant no more listening in.

An ethereal mane of stars on the dark blue mare at the other side of the cell door. Sombra raises his head and narrows his eyes at her.

She glares back.

The door opens, and the Lunar Princess and Twilight Sparkle waltz in, standing side by side in front of the wards and shield spell.

Sombra stares at Twilight for a moment, before his eyes flick to Luna, then back to Twilight.

The glow around Twilight's horn fades to a lower luminosity. The dampening spell appears to have worn off at this point.

He bristles, ears pinning back. "What do you want."

His voice sounds like the gravelly rumbles of a chainsmoker. He tries to ignore how much it strains his throat.

"To talk." Twilight responds, offering a sympathetic expression.

Luna remains stony-faced.

"I have the right to remain silent, and silent I shall remain." Sombra responds, a sneer on his muzzle.

"That won't get you very far, you little cur." Luna snarls, her two fangs becoming visible as her upper lip pulls back.

"Now, now, please, don't argue." The younger princess gets between the both of them as Sombra moves to sit up properly, going as near to the edge of the aerated shield spell as he dares.

"I will argue as much as I like. Don't forget, little bookworm, I'm many years your elder." The ex-tyrant scoffs, rolling his eyes as he laps up the absolute hatred that's practically rolling off the Lunar Princess.

"And I'm over a thousand years your elder, Sombra. Funny, considering you've never listened to your elders." The princess of the night smirks, her eyes turning predatory.

"Please stop-" The princess of the union between the day and the night, of friendship, promptly gets interrupted by Sombra.

"I'm not the one that turned against my own sibling, Selene." The stallion spits, eyes widening. "How did spending almost a thousand years in the moon treat you? Is there actually any cheese up there? And to think you, pious and ever so perfect Luna of the night, decided to betray your sister for a glorified cheese wheel!"

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!" Luna's face shifts to rage. "YOUR FRIEND HAD A GOOD FUTURE AHEAD OF HER, AND YOU HAD TO GO AND RUIN THAT, JUST LIKE YOU RUINED THE EMPIRE!"

She takes one step, two steps closer, and Sombra practically snaps, his mouth frothing with rage.

"DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER HER NAME, SELENE? SHE WAS MY BEST FRIEND, AND YOU CAN'T BE ARSED TO REMEMBER EVEN HER INITIALS?!" Sombra's voice raises to a roar. "I'M SURE YOUR 'SISTERLY BOND' COULDN'T HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN RUINED BY A BETRAYAL FROM THE YOUNGER SISTER, OH, NO, BECAUSE YOU'RE CLEARLY SO PERFECT-"

Luna's horn sparks in rage. Sombra's arcs.

"ENOUGH!" Twilight shouts, her ears pinning back at the volume of her own voice.

Both of them turn to look at her. Sombra seems more offended that the Equestrian ruler would even dare speak up, being the youngest of the three, while Luna seems more shocked that Twilight would display initiative in this manner.

"I can't believe the both of you! You're both adults, so- please act like it! Luna, you're at least a thousand years my senior, and Sombra, I expected better of you, especially given that you seemed so well-spoken when we last met! I expected the both of you to be somewhat mature about this!"

Sombra's eyes meet Luna's for a moment, before he shifts his gaze back to Twilight. Luna's eyes have more of a delay. Her expression is more apologetic in nature, while Sombra glares at her in utter exasperation.

"Well, excuse me, Princess, for being incredibly irritated at the abominable accommodation that you've even bothered offering me, or should I say imprisoning me in? I didn't ask to be revived, nor did I even offer to be your tutor in my kind of magic." He turns his head to look at Luna. "And, for that matter, excuse me for not wanting my dreams invaded by someone who would gladly backstab her own sibling if it got her five miniscule minutes in the spotlight!"

Luna snorts. "I believe I'm done here, Twilight Sparkle. I leave his sentencing up to you, but I want no further part in this."

"Good, I'd rather be stone than bother talking to the princess of cheese again." Sombra huffs, coughing into his hoof, before laying himself on the cold tiles again.

The 'princess of cheese' rolls her eyes, and departs by teleporting.

(Inexplicably, she ends up in a cake because she misjudged one of the numbers in her calculations.)

"You're going to take a lot of work, aren't you?" Twilight sighs, looking over Sombra's prone form.

He just grumbles, lifting his head to give her a particular kind of Look, before lowering it again.

"What's the history between the both of you?" An innocent question, asked by the newest ruler.

And yet, it brings back enough aggravation to make him froth at the mouth in absolute rage. "There is NOTHING between us. Do you hear me, Princess? NOTHING."

Maybe it's residual emotions from Her bringing up his best friend.

"...There's obviously something. She mentioned-"

Did she not realize the implication?

His response is an enraged snarl. "Shut your mouth and leave me alone."

"...Alright. I'll... be back soon with some food. I'm sorry that we got off to a bad start, but I'm sure that we'll get somewhere next time."

She leaves him to his thoughts, her hooves clip-clopping against the tiled floor, slowly decreasing in volume. He doesn't hear the sound of that damnable door scraping against the stone, or the key turning in the lock, but he does hear her hooves again after a moment.

She's going further and further away from him, and he can't even bother to bring himself to care, frankly.

Author's Note

so, funny thing.
i was actually working on this chapter then stopped for a while in order to work on Rotgut.

now i'm working on this again for creative writing.