Although Fluttershy did not yell my ears off as I was prepared to endure (it would be a few more days until I knew full well the extent of her shyness), she did suggest a walk somewhere outside and far away from her home. After informing her I still didn’t think showing my noticeable mug outside was the greatest of notions, she made herself abundantly clear by physically pushing me out the door.

Actions always speak louder than words.

As the door closed, I could already hear her consoling each animal I had trapped and was preparing to eat. She had taken my apology as well as could be expected; I only hope she understood that I’m not simply some carnivorous monster that would rip the head off some animal only to bask in its blood. Yes, I was planning on (humanely) killing them and serving them warm. But I also had a tasty side dish to compliment each one.

I was learning a lot in my short time in Ponyville:

Meat = bad.

Random animals = good. (Even if the amount of feces littering the carpets begged to differ.)

Sombra = out of touch with today’s mares and their cumbersome lifestyles.

Wanting to stay away from the hustle and bustle of mid-section Ponyville, I turned the other direction and continued up the road. I didn’t expect to feel so exuberant given the circumstances, but the freedom to walk where I pleased had never felt so nice. (Even if I was surely being monitored in one way or another.)

I heard a voice in the sky and craned my neck.

“That’s great, Rainbow Dash! See if you can catch this one!”

I watched as four pegasi zipped through the cloudless air. One was Twilight’s rainbow friend while the other three I didn’t recognize—one with a white coat and blue mane, another with yellow coat and orange hair, and another with a dark grey appearance. Between the four of them they were tossing around a thin, circular device that sailed through the air with alarming speed. With each pass, they did so in more and more impossible ways. In the dozen or so passes I watched, the white-coated one was the only pegasus to miss.

“Sombra?” Rainbow Dash had just caught the device in a rather impressive dive and hovered a meter above me. She glanced from me to the rest of her colleagues. “I didn’t expect to see you out walking around… by yourself.”

I forwent explaining my transgressions at Fluttershy’s. “I felt like stretching my legs.”

“Who are you talking to, Rainbow?” yelled the white one.

“It’s only Sombra!” she yelled back, tossing the thin disc back up to them.

“Funny stuff, Rainbow!” He dove for the object only to miss again. The yellow mare went behind him and scooped it up without hesitation. He tried to laugh it off. “Rainbow Dash! Put some muscle behind it!”

“I will when you start catching them, Soarin!” she hollered back, returning to me with a hint of red on her cheeks.

I asked plainly, “Is that Soar-thing your colt-friend?”

Her face flushed. “What? No! He’s just a Wonderbolt that I hang around with sometimes!” Her eyes scanned the road and not me. “We’re friends. You know how it is.”

“I don’t, and I also don’t understand your hesitancy if you wish to procure a relationship with him.” In my time spent in Canterlot shackled to a desk, I had seen my share of guards conversing with ponies they were interested in. I grew to know the signals of when things were working and I grew to love the small facial expressions when I knew things were coming to an end. (If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m a very bitter pony sometimes.) Still, I didn’t think rainbow pony was thinking about this clearly. “If you wish to copulate and have desirable offspring, you should instead consider the other stallion you’re fraternizing with.”

In an instant her embarrassment turned to anger. “Thunderlane? Why? He’s not even a Wonderbolt!”

“Because he caught your game device every time while Soar-thing missed twice already. Do you really want small foals flying around that can barely hold a thin piece of plastic in their hooves?”

“Oh, stay out of it, Sombra!” she shot back. “You’re the last pony in Equestria that should be giving relationship advice! So what if Soarin isn’t as great a flyer as the others? I like him better for a thousand other reasons!”

“So you do have a personal attachment to him?” It was easy getting information from this one.

“That’s not…” It looked like she wanted to hit me. “Is that how you’re planning on spending your time here? Poking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you trying to be funny, Sombra?”

“I don’t want to travel down this road again.” I looked into the sky where the other three where pleasantly chatting. Summoning my best authoritative voice, I shouted, “Hey! Soar-pony! You white one! Come down here!”

Rainbow Dash grabbed at my shoulders painfully. “What are you doing?”

“I will help,” I said, before Soar-stallion landed in the road next to us.

He said casually, “What can I do—” Then he noticed who I was as his tired eyes ate up most of his face. I wish I could have taken a picture. Maybe I could start a collection of them at the back of this book. “You weren’t joking, Rainbow Dash! It’s actually King Sombra! Oh Celestia, you really are out in public now!”

“Please don’t curse in my presence. I don’t want to hear that name again. But there’s something I need you to do for me.”

I could tell Soar-face was contemplating bolting for it. If he did, I’d only hold him in place. “What’s that?” he managed to say.

“I need you to clear your schedule this evening and pick up this angry mare by my side having fully washed and groomed yourself. If you are wise, I’d bring a gift. If you are smart, you will not be late and you will not expect to fornicate on the first date. You will be caring and charismatic and just a little bit humorous during your pair’s listless conversations. You will also procure any monetary expenditure that arises over the evening. Obviously.”

A small smirk pulled at the edge of his mouth. “Rainbow? You really…”

I turned to find the rainbow mare in a position I’d seen dozens of times before, back when I had an Empire to run and hundreds of slaves to torment. It was the same expression when one of my more emaciated workers was contemplating escape or some quick exit from life. Before that day, I truly didn’t know wings could droop like that.

Soar-bones trotted closer to her. “Is seven all right? I can be earlier if you want? Or later? Or whatever?”

A hint of life re-entered the mare. “Seven’s good. I like seven.” She paused, contemplating. “Are you only doing this because Sombra told you to?”

Soar-hoof thought. “In a way, yes. But I’m glad he did! I was almost hoping you would at some point. You’d always seemed to have more guts than most stallions around here. But… I should get ready. I’ll see you tonight!”

With that said, he flew up into the air, hastily sniffing at his side to check if a bath was truthfully in order. It was.

I patted the astonished mare on the back. “You should find more courage in yourself. It might do you some good.”

She turned to me. “Umm… thanks?”

“For what?”

A few nights later, after I had formally apologized to each animal living in Fluttershy’s care, I found myself in the oddest of situations. Seated at her large oak table, I was nearly surrounded by the same five that had originally brought about my end some years ago. Weirdest of all, I felt no flickering urge to dismember and mutilate each one. Weirder still, none of them seemed all that concerned of their safety. True, they were still the Elements of Harmony and all, but last time I had been nothing but a puffy mass of blackened cloud. Now I was strong. Now I was in full control of my powers.

And now I wanted another cookie.

“These are good, pink mare,” I told the energetic one. (A lock of her mane was covering the nametag I asked her to don.) “Where do you buy these from?” I asked merely in the vain hope that Twilight might enjoy flavorful cookies as much as the next pony. It was thin, but it was something.

She waved a hoof. “I make them, silly! Didn’t you know I work at Sugarcube Corner? That’s all we do! Make candy and then make more candy! But the best part of the day is when we get to eat the candy! Although, that usually means we have to make the candy all over again the next day…”

“That sounds like bad business practices.”

“You’d be wrong, then! It’s actually delicious!” Her mouth began salivating from the thought. “You should stop by some time.”

I mentally logged the thought away. I had already been invited that night to Applejack’s farm along with the dressmaker’s shop. They both sounded tedious beyond compare, but I’d suck it up if it earned me a few points with the ponies encircling Twilight Sparkle. It appeared as though a strong word from Fluttershy truly was the only saving grace a villain such as myself might need. Or perhaps that only meant not a single pony in Equestria liked Something Sentry besides Twilight Sparkle. Maybe his parents…

“I still don’t know about this,” I told them openly. “She should have been warned that I’d be here. I believe if she sees me, the first thing she’ll do is leave.”

“But if you don’t even try and reintroduce yourself, then what’s the point?” Applejack added helpfully. “I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think, Sombra. And so what? You had one bad night. One… very bad night. But you two got along for months before then!”

The others nodded. I didn’t know at that moment if I could have considered them friends, but I at least knew they weren’t enemies. Not unless I forced them to be.

“I think I hear her coming!” the dress one exclaimed.

I don’t know why but I almost felt like ducking under the table. I had been preparing for such a reunion for days already and now that it was here I could hardly stand the painful knot in my gut. Then the door opened.

“Sorry I’m late girls. I was talking with Spike when I—”

Her eyes locked on mine and she froze in the doorway. That wasn’t a good sign.

I fought with my face trying to decide on the right expression to present. I didn’t know if I should have been happy to see her or remorseful of the way I’d left things. Instead, I only stared at her blankly… longingly. “Hello, Twilight.”

Ignoring me, she turned to Fluttershy near the head of the table. “You didn’t say he’d be here, Fluttershy. I don’t want to be in the same room as that creature.”

From that term my heart sank somewhere near the floor. I lowered my head to the table and refused to look back up.

Fluttershy started softly, “Well, I never said he wouldn’t be here. And… you never asked.”

Twilight huffed and shook her head, already halfway out the door. Rainbow Dash cut her off as swiftly as a blade. “Don’t go so fast, Twilight! I know how odd it must sound, but he’s changed! Even with all his returned powers and junk—he’s actually trying to be better. And he feels really bad about everything.”

Twilight turned to face the quiet room. I could feel her glare on the top of my head. “That’s what I thought, too. That he had changed for the better and would somehow remain that way. But he’s the type that, if given time, he’ll only explode and hurt everyone around him. If you want proof, just visit Sentry in hospital. You can’t miss him; from what I understand he’ll be there for quite some time. Give Sombra a few more days and I’m sure he’ll scurry off somewhere else—as an immortal King, I can’t imagine he’d want anything more besides another conquest to add to his title. I’m only sorry he’s wasting all of your time with whatever he’s planning.”

When she slammed the door to Fluttershy’s cottage, I took it as a long nail in my coffin, hammering home the knowledge that I might be trudging up some unclimbable slope. Yet, Twilight had been right about something.

Kings needed conquests.

The following day (in what I had assumed was a small effort to heighten my spirits), Pinkie Pie invited me to her place of work to show me around. Standing outside the garish sweetshop, I initially wanted to turn around and leave. A dark stallion like me had no place in such an eyesore. Too bad she already had her legs around me, ripping me off my hooves as she dragged me inside.

“At least the inside is not as horrifying as the outside,” I lied.

In a blur of pink on pink, the earth mare dashed from section to section, quickly explaining each and every type of candy and chocolate they sold. They might have been decorated differently, or colored in some new design, but when I looked at each bright piece I came away with the exact same burning notion: sugar. Hundreds and hundreds of pounds of sugar.

During my time in the Crystal Empire, it had been a rare commodity at best—imported and traded for large sums of bits. That was thousands of years ago. Then again… it was still a lot of candy.

I asked her, “What are your overhead and surplus results?”

She halted in mid-swing. “My what now?”

“Your budgetary and monetary means. I wish to know how well this establishment operates and whether you are making adequate profit given what you export to the populace.”

It seemed I had not clarified enough. “We make candy here, Sombra! Mr. and Mrs. Cake pay me what they can and I sleep upstairs! I’m sure they make enough, though, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to handle those two bundles of joy they have!”

“I have no idea what the going rate of joy-bundles are these days, but I want to look at their books.”

I found the shop’s accounting ledger with a small film of dust in the back. Blowing away the gunk, I scanned its pages and wasn’t especially taken aback by the results. Sugarcube Corner was by no means in the red. But they were scarcely above it—making enough to perhaps afford the building and their lone worker and supplies. Yet, there was so much more they were missing out on.

“Show me how you make your product,” I asked Pinkie, who agreed with a beaming smile.

Twenty minutes following that dumb statement of mine, I regretted the idea entirely. Pinkie was a competent worker, surely. The candy she made exhibited a glow and warmth that couldn’t be matched. The only problem was her speed and lack of work ethic. Every few minutes, I had to stop her from breaking into song… as well as eating most of the gross profits that littered the workbench.

“So what do you think?” She held a finely decorated gingerbread pony for me to judge. It was indeed immaculately decorated (especially considering she had no horn to aid her on her way), but the single creation took minutes and minutes longer than it should have. If I was in charge, that was.

I said, “Where are Mr. and Mrs. Cake now?”

“They’re out with their kids! Today’s my day to run the shop for them.”

I rubbed at my chin. “That’s good. And I may have just the solution to assist your failing shop.”

“Sugarcube Corner isn’t failing!” she trumpeted.

“Did I say ‘failing’? I meant waning.” I wrapped a leg around her and pointed to the rest of the shop with my hoof. “Your business is steady at the moment. But it could always be better. Imagine hundreds of hungry ponies waiting outside your store at all hours of the day, waiting—no, better yet, begging—to clamor inside for a mere taste of your culinary delights! Wouldn’t that be something to wake up to each morning?”

As the mare under my leg began to thrum against the floor I knew I had said the right words. “So what do we do? What do we do?”

“It’s easy, Pinkie. I will help.”

I watched the two dozen foals I had hastily procured busily trotting from the workbench to the odd assortment of candy-creating instruments sitting along the counters. Most faces were already covered in flour and the like and each one looked plainly miserable and tired. It was such a joyous sight to behold as their little hooves kept on creating the candy.

After getting on Pinkie’s good side, I asked her to find me a rare ingredient in the woods—an ingredient that didn’t exist to begin with. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust the mare—in fact, I found her untold energy rather fascinating (what a wonderful slave she would have made!)—it was rather that I had always liked to work alone and in silence.

It was clear as day to tell what the shop had been lacking: workers.

As far as I had been told, Sugarcube Corner ran with two co-owners and a single part-time candy maker. Including the fact that they also distributed sweets to numerous functions around Equestria and even to royalty, it was remarkable they were able to keep up. Maybe that’s why their display seemed as scant as it had been. I’m sure they had thought of procuring more workers some time ago—perhaps it was only money that stayed their hooves.

That was where I came in.

It didn’t take me all that long to find my first little worker, standing outside the shop and lazily playing with a stick. As my shadow crossed over his face, I knew I had already scared him. That was all right. My appearance in that oddly cheerful town made me look much darker than I was. Still, I had a backup plan. “You like candy, right?” I asked pleasantly enough. I held out a few colorful sweets I had nabbed from the shop. “Well, I’ve got a whole store made of it!”

A few cheap pieces of candy later, I escorted him inside. He obviously had a very avid interest in sweets, so why not propel him into a career of it? (Even if it was against his consent.)

What burst my power-hungry bubble was when the owner of the store popped by for an impromptu visit. Somehow, he didn’t seem as thrilled by the results as I.

“Where’s Pinkie Pie?” he asked me, his underbite preparing to drop.

“I sent her on an errand. She may be a while. But you must be Mr. Cake! I remember you from group. We have a lot to discuss, you and I.”

Mr. Cake gulped dryly. “We do?”

“I’m afraid so. Your numbers are terrible. Who does them for you?”

“I do. But I think the more important question is why there are two dozen foals running around in the back of my store!”

I guided him over to the work area, at the time when I was actually pleased with my work. “It was truly remarkable, Mr. Cake. Really! I asked each one of these children on the street if they enjoyed the simplicities of sugar and differing ingredients, and interestingly enough, each one said they did! So I coaxed them to come work for me!”

He already looked on the verge of throwing up. “How long have they been back here?”

“A few hours at most. Their shift’s only just started. During that first hour they kept on looking out the windows, so I boarded them up to stop them from slacking. It’s worked wonders! And before you start riding me for being cruel, I’ll have you know I have break time already planned out. In four hours they will get their first break: forty-five seconds of sitting and their choices of two pieces of candy! Plus, the highest earner will get a single pat on the head from me!”

“You can’t do that! That’s horrible!” he spat.

I didn’t understand. “One piece of candy, then?”

“You need to let them out right now!”

I hastily glanced over my busy workers, their unhappiness oozing from the room. I didn’t understand this hostility. “But they haven’t reached today’s quota!”

Mr. Cake put a hoof to his temple. “How much is today’s quota?”

I leaned in with a grin—one business pony to another. “There isn’t one! They just keep on working!”

He sighed. “Were you even planning on paying them for all this?”

I had trouble locating the term. “Paying?”

“You need to go,” he said. “Right now, Sombra.”

I hesitated. “To find more workers? I don’t think there are any more children out there. I think I’ve caught them all.”

“You’re banned from my store!”

“But productivity is up four-hundred percent!”

“I don’t care! I’m going to be in enough trouble as it is with all these missing foals! Just bring Pinkie back! I’m sure she’ll think of some way to handle this…”

I thought of saying goodbye to my little workers. To tell them I had been replaced with an overseer that lacked vision. Alas, I didn’t have the heart. I’m sure nearly all of them would come to miss the greatest boss they’d ever come to know soon enough.