You groan in frustration and pull a fluffy pillow over your head. You can only assume it’s the middle of the night and you can’t get to sleep. Not after what happened earlier anyway. You got your ass handed to you, and Sombra didn’t even need to touch you.

You hop out of the bed and shiver slightly, you’d much prefer to stay sandwiched between the warm sheets but there’s not much sense in wasting time when you can’t sleep. Even if you did, the images of the dead rebels still float in your mind. A nightmare would be likely.

You look around the room for something to occupy your time. Sombra hasn’t provided you with much beyond simple necessities like shampoo and food. You can’t write, at least not with your clumsy hooves and you wouldn’t place much on your telekinesis abilities either.

Maybe you can contact the survivor from the throne room somehow, and get a message out to the resistance. The problem is that you don’t know where they’re keeping him. You haven’t seen hide nor hair of a dungeon since you arrived here and you doubt one of the guards will point you to it like before.

You carefully walk to the door and place an ear against it. The corridors remain silent. Sombra sent all of the staff to their quarters again so they didn’t know about the execution. You wonder how they would react if they found out their leader killed six ponies without trial, it would undoubtedly cause some friction and insurrection between the staff and Sombra. Some might even be afraid of being the next in line.

You can’t hear anything, not even the shifting of the guards that normally guard your new room. It’s much closer to the throne room, so there should be at least some kind of patrol every night. Pushing your luck, you slowly push open the door. You stop as the beginning of a squeak emerges; don’t want to get caught out by that.

The door is open wide enough for you to peak through. You’re surprised to find that none of the guards are present. This is perfect, a little too perfect; you can easily sneak out now with impunity. With a hoof you push the door further and slip between the gap, you shut it again and check your corners. Not a single soul.

The normal crystal lighting that provided all of the artificial light during the day were now turned off, seemingly to help the staff get their internal body clocks straight, they rarely left the castle as they had their own quarters not too far away from your own. It has the unfortunate side effect of rendering you unable to see more than a few meters ahead, somebody could easily catch you off guard.

You squint, and making sure to remember the path you take, set off to the left. Your last venture into solo navigation didn’t go so well. There are no guards for directions this time. The only sound is of your hooves slowly impacting the hard floor. Hopefully nobody will be around to hear.

It’s difficult to keep track of where you’re going. The darkened hallways cast the palace in an entirely new light. It’s unfamiliar and sinister at the same time.

The clattering of metal rings out, you stop. The metal scrapes against the floor, your ears twitch madly in an attempt to locate the new sound. It’s coming from behind you. You look back in paranoia but you can’t see anything. The hallway you were just in fading into black.

Press onwards, you tell yourself, don’t let some dumb sounds get to you. Some idiot just crashed into the kitchen, that’s all. You take a deep breath to soothe your pounding heart. You never liked the dark, especially not when under the jurisdiction of somebody well versed in dark magic.

Where are all the guard patrols? You wonder. This close to Sombra’s room there should be some kind of contingent to prevent trouble. That scraping sound is back. Just ignore it Rose, it’s nothing to worry about. Dungeons are underground right? You should go downstairs.

The lobby is even more un-nerving; the chirpy mare who introduced you isn’t here to help anymore. You wonder what happened to her. The vibrant red banners still fly from the walls; the simple logo of Sombra’s empire feels like a watchful eye, looking out for troublemakers or dissidents.

You hurry down the stairs and look to the left. The banners continue down there, maybe it’s some kind of military area where the barracks are located. You scratch your collar as it tingles slightly; your nerves are acting up again. Swallow your pride and go get what you want.

You hold your head high and follow the banners. Wooden doors pass you on both sides with rusty iron handles to open them. All of them are closed. You make sure to keep an eye on them in case a guard ambushes you.

Eventually you reach the end of the repetitive corridor. A final double door lies at the very end. Its design is nearly identical to the previous doors, except with heavy iron bars crisscrossing the tough wood surface. It’s locked from the outside, an iron bar being placed across to prevent it from opening. This must be the dungeon. You have no idea how you found it so easily, lady luck must be smiling down on you today.

It takes considerable effort to push the bar up. It lets out a hair raising clang as it hits the other metal bracket. You look back to the doors behind you and breathe a sigh of relief as nobody seems to come and investigate.

You were expecting to see a winding stone staircase like something out of a bad Dracula movie. Instead they’re much smaller and only go a few meters below the floor. You make sure to pull the door shut behind you so nobody comes to look later. You carefully slink down the stairs, shivering as cold air nips at your skin.

You come into a long stone hall lit by flaming torches. There are cells to your left and right, old rusty bars that lead into cramped prisons. Each cell has a dirty blanket and a bucket inside it. No comforts down here. None of them seem to be in use, suggesting that Sombra has recently cleared this place out in his usual style. They left the last stallion alive, so he must be in here somewhere.

Thankfully the dungeon is small and you can easily walk along its length in a minute or so. You squint your eyes and look into each cell in an attempt to spot the green body of the stallion. You slowly grow more irritated as time goes on. You have to be fast before somebody notices your absence. You reach the last cell and sigh in relief. He’s always in the last place you look.

He doesn’t look like he’s doing so well. His broken foreleg is hastily wrapped in dirty white bandages. He could easily get infected. His deep green coat is filthy, covered in brown patches of dirt and deep red patches of dry blood. You didn’t get a good look at him in the throne room; you can easily see his spyglass cutie mark now. His talent must be investigating or something along those lines. His sunken eyes look out through the bars. They flick up to your face and widen for a moment.

“Hello?” You ask, knocking against the bars to catch his attention. He shakes his head and slow sits up from his position on the sullied blanket.

“What d’you want? Here to beat me again?” He challenges in a southern sounding accent, it’s completely different to how he sounded when talking to Sombra. “I’m not saying nothin’.” He makes a zipping motion with his good hoof before crossing them defiantly.

“I-I’m not here to hurt you!” You assure him. “I just want to talk.”

“Well give up; this is another of Sombra’s little games. I let my guard down and then I blab everything to you? Not gonna’ happen.” He shuts his eye and raises his snout to the ceiling. You don’t make any motion to move.

He opens an eye and looks at you, clearly annoyed at the intrusion to his time of rest. “Stubborn little one, ain’t ya?”

He relaxes his posture and stares at you. He looks on in concern for a moment. “Ah’ recognize you now. You’re Sombra’s consort.”

“Hell no!” You yell, leaping to your hooves while blushing furiously. “He’s keeping me prisoner here!” He raises an eyebrow and chuckles slightly.

“Is that so? Maybe not now. Sombra isn’t gonna’ beat around the bush, there’s probably a reason he picked out such an attractive mare.” You blush only grows worse at his teasing. A haggard laugh escapes his dry throat; he coughs and hacks, punching at his chest to calm himself down. His expression clenches in pain.

“You shouldn’t do that.” You advise. “That hurt didn’t it?”

“Of course it hurt. Why wouldn’t it?” An uncomfortable silence descends upon you both. You fidget slightly as you think of where to take the conversation next.

“Why did you come here?” You ask.

“Why? Like what?”

“Why did you come to the palace? I’ve been kept in the dark for the last week. I have no idea what’s going on outside, I haven’t even seen a damn window, Sombra got rid of them all so I couldn’t escape.” You rant. He chews the inside of his cheek for a moment.

“I came here to fight, to liberate the Crystal Empire from that monster.” He says with resolve. “That’s why we’re all here.” That much you had figure out already, but at least he’s starting to give you some answers.

“Listen. At the end of the day all I was meant to do is take down the King. Without him his entire stranglehold on this place falls apart. Not only because he’s dead, but because his magic will go away too.” His voice had become more animated for a moment, but he suddenly looks crestfallen.

“Ah’ messed it up. All those innocent ponies are under his control…” He whispers. “One day we’ll stop him, and then everypony can be free. The Empire will be back to its rightful rulers.”

“Who?” You interject at the mention of rulers.

This catches his attention. “No, I’m not saying. Not yet. I can’t trust you enough.” Your ears flatten against your head, of course he doesn’t trust you idiot.

“Maybe if you do something for me first.” He adds.

“If it helps topple Sombra I’m all ears.” He stares into your eyes searching for any sign of insincerity, when he finds none he sighs and begins again. Getting on his good side is a high priority, maybe then you’ll actually get some information about the situation in the empire.

“I’m taking a big risk by telling you this.” He mutters under his breath. “I need you to drop a message for one of my inside agents. Find a piece of paper and mark down that the spyglass has been dropped.” That must be his name you muse. “Then drop it inside the red potage box in the library, it’ll find its way to my friends.”

You nod along to his instructions and repeat the message inside your head. “Don’t bother tryin’ to expose them; we have a system in place.” He warns. “Do it right, and I’ll tell you what you wanna’ know. If I’m still here by then.” On that morbid note he lays back down. “Now get outta’ here before somebody finds us, I’d rather live for a few more hours.”

As you turn to leave you remember something important. “Do you know somepony called Silver Shield?” You ask quickly.

“Can’t say, drop that letter off first.” You grunt in aggravation and trot away. You bolt back to your room, not wishing to push your luck further for tonight. You can make some more progress tomorrow.

Spyglass watches longingly as his fellow prisoner walks away unshackled. He rolls onto his back and looks to the ceiling.

“Who the buck is Silver?”

Author's Notes:

how convenient.

Sorry this one took longer than usual, I need to stop watching so much Fourze.