King and I - 5

A deathly silence had descended on the room like a thick blanket. An empty plate lies in front of you, long since licked clean. None of the kitchen staff seem intent to check on you. You didn’t know what to do anymore. The goal of constructing the contraption handed to you by your rebel friends seems further away than ever.

Your dampened spirits leave you moping. Head down on the hard wood of the table. Maybe the kitchen staff know full well to stay away, you feel like you could rip somebodies head off with little remorse. Maybe some fresh air will do you good, if you’re allowed outside anyway.

You push away from the stable, ringing the bell to alert the waiter to the finished meal. Before he can enter you swiftly exit the room, same boring corridors, same still guards and the same frantic staff. Maybe you’re just bored of all of it. A few days of captivity aren’t exactly exciting or stimulating.

You approach another guard and ask him for directions. Like the other guard you spoke to earlier he stumbled over his words, practically bending over backwards to accommodate you. Sombra’s doing most likely, chastising his guards and telling them to treat you like royalty.

He has no problem with telling you where the garden is located, even offering to escort you there. You politely decline but thank him for the help leaving him with a noticeably blush on his face as you walk away. You’d think that the guards would be more professional than to be flustered by a small compliment like that.

You find it difficult to image the palace as the same one from the show; the most noticeable difference being how large this place is. You could wander for hours and never find what you’re looking for. In the show it never looked this large from the outside. Maybe this place isn’t as similar to the canon as you’d like, without heroic alicorns to rescue you from the machinations of an unpredictable dictator.

You can’t place him. He’s welcoming but at the same time cold, purposeful to a tee. Sombra could easily bend your mind to his will at any time yet he doesn’t. He gets a sick thrill from confounding you, leaving you dazed and confused as he laughs away in his throne room.

To be honest it’s also the reason you don’t trust the silver haired stallion. Nothing happens in the castle without Sombra knowing. The timely arrival felt far too convenient to be a natural occurrence, especially when he wants you to collect a list of rare and potentially dangerous items for him. For all you know it could be Sombra in a silly disguise, waiting for you to complete his item hunt before ripping the hope away from your grasp.

Building it might not even be in your best interest, a dark crystal reactor sounds dangerous. You’d rather stay away from danger right now.

The climate of the room changes, the stale air from before being swept away in a wonderful warm breeze. Your fur stands on end as you walk out into a wonderful garden. A beautiful pathway winds through a sea of green grass, beds of flowers and rows of trees lining the way. Your joy is marred slightly as you notice the oppressive gray crystal walls that surround the area in a neat circle.

At least you can finally see the sun. It shines bright in the cloudless sky, casting bright rays down onto the sparkling garden. You take in a deep breath of the air and find yourself smiling, the stress of the past few days melting away as you trot further down the pathway. You wonder just how high up the garden is.

It’s very quiet. There’s a complete absence of any kind of noise from the garden itself, no animals to chirp and squeak during the morning or evening. The dull sound of a crowd can be heard from somewhere far away, faint music accompanying the gathering.  It feels artificial. Why wouldn’t it? Outside could actually be a blazing hell scape and you wouldn’t know any different.

A group of armored pegasi fluttered down from above landing softly to silence the metal gauntlets. You were curious as to why a group of guards entered the palace through the garden of all places; it must be standard procedure when they need to get around the upper levels. They fan out, quickly passing you by and heading to the arched doorway. One looks back at you as they leave, mouthing something to his comrade.

You sit under one of the trees, pawing at the tight collar wrapped around your neck. You really want to get this thing off, but you doubt a pair of scissors is appropriate for such thick leather. You’d have to be away from Sombra too. He’d know something is up if he saw his pet without her trademark collar.

You don’t understand why he collared you upon arrival. Apart from the initial shock and physiological effect it didn’t serve much purpose at all. There was no loop to attach it to anything or latch to remove it.

You sit there in silence, listening to the ambient noise of the festival and rustling foliage. It’s nice to get away from all the prying eyes after two days of near constant isolation or observation. Sombra must have a way to keep an eye on you to let you wander around like this, that or he’s very confident in his security measures.

Your reverie is shattered by a blood curdling scream and the sound of shouting guards. The sudden clashing of armor can be heard from the hallways. What’s going on? You hesitate, unsure if it would be safe to head over and investigate. The shouts grow louder and more numerous, erupting into clashes of armor.

You gallop to the arch, skidding to a halt in the hallway. Blood mars the normally clean floor, the ghostly face of a dead maid staring back from the puddle. The armored stallions stand over her, skirmishing with the guards. They fall back slightly, taking a pair of casualties from the well trained palace officers.

One spots you, eyes widening in recognition. Before you can scurry away he sweeps towards you, pointing a bloodied spear at your jugular. “Don’t scream whore.” He warns, motioning to the dead body of the maid. “Unless you want to join her.”  Sombra’s guard stop, afraid for your safety. They fall back slightly but shout for backup as one of their number run to gather assistance.

“That’s right, stay back!” An older stallion yells, pushing back his own line of troops. You begin to shake, adrenaline filling your veins. A storm of emotions build up inside you as they forcefully haul you away around a corner. They pull open one of the many guest suites and push you inside, filing in behind you.

“Keep her under guard, we need to wait for the rest of the guys.” The old unicorn commands. The spear wielding colt grunts and escorts you to one of the couches. “Sit.” He orders leaving no room for compromise.

“Why are we keeping her?” He asks. “She’s already broken.” You gasp as the bloodied head moves closer; you feel malice for the crystal stallion as he grins at your reaction.

“Don’t be so hasty!” The unicorn shouts, knocking it away. He looks to you, spotting the collar and frowning. “Oh dear. I would’ve thought that he wouldn’t be so foolish as to use one of these.” He comments.

“W-what?” You stammer as he squints his eyes, carefully studying the leather.

“This collar… it’s very antiquated magic, highly flawed. Used to be used in the crystal mines to keep the slaves in line, the side effects too numerous to be useful.” It’s some kind of mind control collar? All of your actions so far have been your own choice… haven’t they?

“Easy enough to remove though.” He continues. His deep red horn lights in a yellow glow, wrapping around the collar. Your doubt grows rapidly, leaving you motionless as you consider your behavior for the past two days. “Wait a sec-“ The unicorn declares. His words fade away as an arrow bolt pierces his throat, splattering you with crimson blood. He coughs and gargles as his windpipe collapses, a copious flow of blood escaping from his wheezing mouth.

You briefly pick up the sound of more voices, yelling a distant war cry. The crystal stallion remains by your side, shocked by the sudden reappearance of the guards from before, their ranks being bolstered by crossbow wielders. Everything fades away as you watch the light behind the unicorns yellow eyes flicker and perish, a candle being cruelly snubbed by the jaws of death.

The other pegasi and crystal ponies soon fall without their leader, cut down by the well trained members of the palace forces. They never really stood a chance. You feel cold steel press against your furry neck. The remaining stallion pushing away the body of his dead leader to give the entire battalion a clear view of the danger you are in.

“Don’t get near me!” He shouts, pulling your catatonic body against his own. “Sombra wouldn’t be too happy about his guest being killed!” He walks back towards the wall, closing off angles of attack from your would-be rescuers. You don’t struggle in order to keep the bloody metal away from your vulnerable neck.

“Buck all of you! This isn’t over, not by a long shot! We’ll be back, and we’ll kill your tyrant King and all of his subjects!” He screamed in your ear, the guards closing in from all sides. Your despair had tapered away, being replaced with a feeling of emptiness having watched somebody die in front of your eyes.

As the wicked spear rushed towards you, a new feeling blossoms from the depths of your mind. Pure malice, hate so intense that all you can think of is how many ways you can disembowel and kill the stallion threatening your life, and the lives of all the other innocent staff in the castle.

It stops. Held in an aura of blood red magic. The stallion tenses as the spear is ripped away from his grasp and onto the floor in front of him. The guards converge, kicking the spear back out of his reach and blocking his escape. He pulls you to his chest, fore hooves wrapped tightly around your neck. You gasp as the air is pushed from your lungs, his strong arms preventing you from breathing.

“B-burn…” you wheeze. You concentrate the feeling of malice from before, focusing it down your horn and into a magic state. The edges of your vision grow dark, but the impending success of the stallion only makes your magic stronger.

His body temperature skyrockets, easily felt through his muscled chest. His hooves release their grasp, dropping you to the ground, too weak to stand again. It starts quietly, but he soon begins to scream as the emotion based spell hits him full force.

The blood in his veins boil as his body shuts down. Functions that require a constant internal heat rapidly stopping or being destroyed thanks to the spell. His lungs fail, inflating and bursting inside his chest cavity as he coughs blood onto the ground. He writhes in pain, no longer able to scream as the pain cuts away at his senses and motor functions.

He drops to the ground, being left eye to eye with you. Your vision fades, but not before you see his candle go out. His eyes plead, beg to live, or maybe to be put out of his misery. It doesn’t matter now, he was already doomed.

You don’t pity him, not like the others.

Blackness holds you.

The guards watched in horror as the hostage taker choked on his own blood, his body lying limp next to Sombra’s future consort. The puddle of scalding hot blood spread under their hooves as his body expelled nearly everything. It spread underneath Rose, giving her a ghostly aura, her hair matching the crimson river perfectly.

They looked between their own ranks. Hesitation reigned as his eyes died away and his killer passed out. The squad leader frowned as a couple of his men heaved over the nearby balcony. “Pick her up. Get her cleaned, and get the King down here. I want to know how the hell these bastards got into our palace.”

A chorus of “Yes sir.” Echoed through the room, the white mare being taken away on a stretcher.