To the untrained eye, the throne room sat empty, as it had for centuries. Ponies had come and gone, but never to stay long, for this was a taboo place. The shadow of the old king weighed on their minds and memories, like the faint remains of a nightmare best left forgotten. Even the newcomers, eager to claim the throne as their own, did not linger. The great crystal chamber repelled them all on the basest level.

The room’s unseen occupant, had she not been sealed away to slumber in crystal, would have said that her master—the great bastard that he was—had bewitched the room so that those who had no business there would be feel mounting panic and dread until they left. That meant that only her master, his slaves, and anybody sufficiently trained in magic could stand to be there. Of course, being unaware of the world around her, she was unable to express the great dislike she had for her master.

So the captive dreamer slept on, blissfully unaware that her master’s empire was on the precipice of liberation once more. She couldn’t wake during the many visits by the usurpers, and had she been able to, she probably wouldn’t have been particularly keen on playing the role of guard dog. As it was, her master had not been the one to banish her to her crystal prison, and only a pony versed in the same dark arts that had trapped her there could release her.

The throne room’s heavy doors remained open, as they had been so many years ago, and two figures crossed past the opening: a unicorn mare and a young drake. Both were frazzled, the weight of time bearing down on them. They were caught up in discussion, in search of some clue, just a hint, of where their true objective lay.

“It’s gotta be here somewhere; it’s just gotta be,” the mare said, trying her hardest to reassure herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the purple dragon peeking under a rug. “Not a claw, Spike!” Her chiding reminder elicited a jump and uneasy chuckle from the young drake, but she didn’t give him a second glance. “Celestia’s orders!”

The young mare paused in front of the doorway, deep in recollection. Her lips moved in sync with a thought, and Spike could just hear her whispering, “If the Empire is filled with hope and love, those things are reflected across all of Equestria. If hatred and fear take hold...” She had already crossed half of the room when her eyes widened, and she snapped around to her companion. “Of course!”

“What is it, Twilight; did you find it!?” he panted, likely in hopes of a chance at a break as he followed close behind her.

Twilight shook her head, displacing some of her indigo mane. In spite of herself, she allowed a small moment of triumph to peak one corner of her mouth. “No, because this isn’t King Sombra’s castle!”

With a look of incredulity, Spike crossed his arms. “Well, isn’t this where he lived when he was in power?”

Again she shook her head. “It is, but it didn’t look like this.” Focusing on the largest crystal atop the great crystal throne, she screwed her eyes shut and began channeling raw mana into her horn as she mentally reconstructed a spell she’d seen only a few days prior. Content that her reproduction would be flawless, Twilight began to pour all of the negative emotions she’d ever felt into the spell. The aura surrounding her horn darkened from it’s normal magenta to a dark cloud of acidic green and purple. Wisps of similarly colored smoke even began to stream from the corners of her eyes.

With a grunt of discomfort, she unleashed the bolt of dark magic on the crystal formation atop the throne. The spell arced away from its intended target at the last moment, instead striking a smaller crystal and engulfing the room in a flash of violet light. When the pair had blinked away the dazzle, a patch of crystal flooring beside the pair had taken on the appearance of jet.

“Whoa, when did you learn to—get down!” Spike’s admiration of Twilight’s latest leap in spellweaving was cut short as a gout of black fire surged toward them. Knowing his scales protected him from most fire, both mundane and magical, he threw himself at Twilight, knocking her to the floor and covering her with his body.

“—me fight with you!”

From beneath her draconian shield, Twilight glanced the flames and the sudden outcry. There, standing in the patch of darkened crystal, was a strange bipedal creature—some sort of mostly hairless cross between a female minotaur and a monkey. To Twilight’s educated eye, her outfit resembled a Saddle Arabian bedlah modified to accentuate her unique curves, putting her chest especially on display.

Most of the outfit covering her bare tan skin was cloth, a lot of which was a sheer blood red material except for her grey vest, but most prominent was her jewelry. Her arms and legs all bore large golden bracelets that almost resembled shackles, and upon her crest was a form-fitting golden tiara that looked as though both sides met in back of her head to clasp around her very long purple mane, locking it in the ever popular ponytail style. Even her long pointed ears bore jewelry.

The creature froze, eyes wide in alarm. “What the? Where did they go?” she whispered, barely noticing the unicorn and dragon she’d inadvertently attacked. One hand darted up to her neck, grasping at a collar of black crystal that sat about her neck. Her slender digits traced a crack along sapphire clasp. She blinked a few times before an unmistakable smile creased her face. “I can’t feel his presence! The collar is there, but he’s not suppressing my free will!”

With one fist thrust toward the heavens, the girl leapt into the air with a gleeful shout. “I’m free! I’m really free!”

Both pony and girl alike paused as a loud moan filled the room. Twilight in particular became aware that the dragon on her back was in pain. “Spike!” she cried, levitating the baby dragon from her back onto the floor before her. “Spike, what’s wrong?”

Spike’s eyes had gone glossy, culminating in rivulets of moisture trickling down his cheeks. His clawed hands were gripping his side, where a number of his scales seemed to have melted. “It h-hurts, Twilight,” he whimpered. It was clear to the other two individuals in the room that he was trying not to bawl his eyes out like a stricken babe. “I d-don’t get it. Why does it hu-hu-hurt?”

Whatever glee the girl had grasped in the realization of her apparent freedom slipped away as the last few moments sunk in. She darted forward, shoving the purple unicorn out of the way. Crouching over the young lad, she commanded, “Show me.”

“Excuse me?” Twilight snarled. Her horn lit, and she dragged Spike away from her bipedal attacker. “You did this to him! I’m not letting you near him!”

The young woman narrowed her eyes, folding her arms before her, squishing her breasts together. “Do you take this boy as your slave then?” she intoned, warning heavy in her voice. One hand darted forward, her open palm stopping a few inches short of the Twilight’s muzzle. “Are you his master, pony?” she asked, her teeth bared just enough to reveal her incisors.

From this angle, Twilight could see the glossy, almost plasticy surface of the creature’s palms. She’d seen burn scars before, but none that reeked of brimstone. “No!” she screamed. If her burgeoning hypothesis was correct, this being was dangerous. “He’s my friend!” In a quieter voice, she added, “He’s my little brother.”

“Well then,” she said, softening her expression and lowering her hand. “That attack wasn’t intended for you, and had it been anything other than a graze, his soul would already have been consumed by the hellfire.”

Suddenly very wary of the being before her, the young mare swallowed. “You can help him?”

Holding her hand palm up, the woman nodded. A dark purple sphere of swirling clouds appeared in the air above her hand and she seemed to see something in it. She brought her other hand up, pointing one finger at the void—Twilight couldn’t help but surmise that it was a pocket dimension of some sort—flicking it occasionally. “Let’s see, breakfast, no... blanket? Maybe later. Playing cards? No time for solitaire.” She growled quietly to herself and one of her eyebrows twitched. “How did that even get in there? Who messed with my inventory and filled it with crap?”

A few moments passed before a smile lit up on her face. “Aha! There we go.” When the cloudy sphere vanished, a small crystal jar sat atop her open palm. “Here. Take this and smear it on the wound. It won’t heal it completely, but it’ll keep the hellfire from doing any more damage than it already has, and it’ll ease the pain considerably.”

Two full minutes passed as Twilight considered the offering. Although the creature did not appear to have any reason to lie to her, the fact of the matter was that she was still the one to attacked her. Given that she had been sealed away in that crystal for a reason, there was some doubt as to how trustworthy she was. This could all be some ruse, and she might even be an agent of Sombra. Could she really risk Spike’s health on what could be contact poison?

Another pained cry from the poor lad made up her mind.

With a grunt, she popped open the container with her magic and began to coat the smoking, exposed flesh. Almost immediately Spike shuddered and twitched, before letting out a relieved breath. To Twilight’s surprise, he was even up on his feet again. One appearance of the being’s pocket dimension later, and the dragon was wrapped in a soft blanket.

“Thank you miss...” Twilight frowned. “I’m sorry, I just realized we haven’t exchanged names.” She pressed her hoof against her chest and said, “I’m Twilight Sparkle, personal protege of Princess Celestia. What is your name?”

The being’s ears twitched and her body tensed at Twilight’s words. “I see,” she murmured, stepping backwards. “Is she here now? Celestia?” Twilight shook her head, and as surprised to see the girl sag upon hearing this. “My name... my name is—”

“Shantae the Blood Dancer, the Butcher of Malachite Hill, Sombra’s pet.” All three occupants of the room jumped upon hearing the voice. There, in the still-open doorway of the chamber, stood a unicorn and a haggard alicorn—Shining Armor and Princess Cadance. The princess stepped forward, exhausted from her efforts in protecting the Empire. “I had hoped to deal with you after your master. In the name of Equestria and all that is good, you are under arrest.”

Shantae sank to her knees and moaned. “For fuck’s sake.” She looked at the alicorn princess with exhaustion. “Really?”

Author's Notes:

Edit: Thanks to Architect for spotting an overlooked issue in the first paragraph and the suggestion for an extra embellishment on the sentence that followed.