Within the car we were free of the guises Sombra had made, although we tried to stay away from each other as much as possible, which was fitting since not too much happened in terms of excitement during the first week in the cargo car. This wasn’t to say we had nothing to do. Sombra alternated between many activities, such as re-sorting his gear in a suspicious manner and shooting me many completely undeserved dirty looks.

Did he really think I would steal anything from him? I'm not a thieving pony!

Other things he did were less interesting, such as pacing the other side of the car on the and sitting in corners. He seemed to do this quite a bit so I always assumed he was sleeping. He also did things I found much creepier, like spying on the crew in disguise. Occasionally he would curtly update me on their activities. For example: three had a cold, up one from the previous couple of days. Outside of that, he didn't talk, and I didn't know how he could take it. I loved to be around other ponies, or at least just to hear their voice, while he sat in silence for hours looking more content than ever.

When I there was conversation between the king and I, it was strained, most likely out of shared suspicion, since I couldn't exactly get him to respond to a friendly-ish hello and the only thing I know about him is that he's smug, kinda creepy, and that he usurps empires. Sombra further retreated into his solitary behaviors primarily by freely stealing things from the cargo, like cloth. I had no idea what he did with it or where it went. While he did all this, I performed less interesting feats.

Namely, I read my book.

It is here that our tale picks up. As the council took place in the great hall of Farreach, the leader of this clan, Fredrick Ironhoof was listening to an offer that the caravan had proposed. The offer was perfect in mind of Farreachers. Fredrick would have his precious only daughter Finola, lively dryad of a young mare, be sent to the rich land of Gildentundra to marry the wealthy Lord Vainblade. It seemed like a fantasy because the fey tale of Farreach was only a deceptive notion.

At this moment the train lurched and I looked up from Lore of Yore. One of the train's car doors had been opened revealing a star-dotted Western Equestrian sky. A small breeze swept over to my makeshift reading corner and chilled me as a few small snowflakes, each hardly bigger than pinheads came to rest in my coat.

Why is the door open? It's freezing!

I bookmarked my page with a singed feather of mine that I had been keeping since I didn't have the heart to get rid of it and walked across the car, gripping the door in magic so I could slide it closed. Sombra was cold enough, I didn't need snow on top of everything else.

“Don't close it,” mumbled a voice through my miniature internal rant.

Where did that voice come from? Is somepony else here?

Nervously, I lit my horn and shined it through the dark car. The werelight’s gleam revealed Sombra, sitting mostly obscured by his cloak, with a windblown mane.

“How long have you been there?”

By the gods, I had hoped that he slept at some point.

The wistful look that was in his eyes faded.

“…About eight solar hours and two lunar hours… probably more.”

This was another one of his pony-from-the-past quirks, sometimes he called the twelve hours of daylight solar hours and the twelve hours of night lunar hours and became confused when I didn't.

“That’s over ten hours… why?”

Wouldn't he be worried about the cold? I'm pretty sure he's from the Empire, since sometimes when he talks he slips into some incomplete variation of a Crystalline citizen's accent but then act likes he has to correct that and while he might have lived near the cold, he's not immune to it.

But who would spend that much time looking at the heavens, as nice as they are? For a moment he looked embarrassed, then he shook his head. His mane obscured his eyes even more.

“It’s… um… nostalgic in a sense, I guess. I used to look at the sky a lot.”

I cocked my head to the side. Was it me or might he have been acting a bit ‘off’ there? Wasn't I the awkward one? King Sombra is definitely not a social creature but he's hiding something here and I doubt it's something I want to know.

“Alright then… I'm going to go back to reading, or maybe sleeping.”

Please go to sleep, you weirdo. As creepy as you are you don't seem too scary but I imagine even tyrants ought to sleep even if it is to preserve the sanity of a dorky princess like myself. I may not like you very much or even understand anything about you but I don't hate you.

He didn’t respond. As I walked back over to my corner, around the load of cargo stacked in the middle, I sat down and picked up the book once more. One glance at the sky blue cover and I felt my eyes began to falter, lids lowering. The pale gold bindings twinkled like fireflies.

‘Sleeeep...' They seemed to say.

I left Sombra to his stargazing as the conscious party member. My eyes shut obeying the silent will of a storybook.

There's only eight more days.

A sharp eyed pony may have noticed that none of the pony folk of Farreach appeared to be over their thirty-fifth winter. Ah, but Life here was far from eternal youth, for the fore-stated assumption was true: nopony did live past their thirty-fifth winter, although not a single mare or stallion could figure out why, having no study of magics and only whisperings of 'gods' to guide them. That was tragedy of this paradise. Every mother and father wished that a chance might come to send their foals into a hope beyond the endless blizzards and snows of the great mountain range that barred them from the rest of the world. It was only now that the chance emerged for Fredrick Ironhoof and Lila Cloverheart to send their daughter elsewhere now that they knew there were lands beyond the mountains and these lands were far more civilised than they could hope to be, where ponies were organised into classes and gems were not unheard of but things one might wear with things that were not as coarse as the wool many were used to.

As I was reading this, I wondered that if this were history and not prose, would Sombra have known these ponies?

Where was he anyway?

Looking up from my corner, I felt my eyes drift between the loads of cargo towards the corner diagonal of me, a familar figure clad in the stupid cloak was curled up there. Based on the breathing he was asleep, which I had almost thought was impossible, but I was not foolish enough to try and wake him. What was I going to do, poke him with a stick?

Not happening.

I resumed reading, awaiting the fairy tale ending or a rescue or something happy to compared to what my eyes currently viewed. The book went on to tell how Finola was sent to Gildentundra. She had a tearful farewell and six of her cousins, who were all evidently much younger than she since they were only ever referred to as fillies, were sent to be her respective maids of honor. Then, apparently on the trip four of her cute little cousins froze to death, and I admit this part made my eyes tear up a little. Fairy tale characters occasionally die but it is normally not the children that do, or at least not in almost all Equestrian fairy tales. I've never been as big a reader as Twilight since I get invested in characters so easily - she used to tease me about how much I'd laugh, cry, or fawn over the creatures who populated the books I used to read her.

When she arrived at the mansion she was immediately wedded to the unicorn pony, Silver Price. It was described how she had difficulty adjusting to new customs and was slandered for her ‘nymph-like antics’. Later, gold was reported to be stolen. The greedy ponies of the manor blamed Finola’s maids - her two remaining cousins - and had them executed.

Did I really make out King Sombra to be so bad? I've never even met these ponies and already Sombra seems way nicer by comparison even though I've heard worse about him. I already think better of a pony I don't know well or trust. Maybe it's the writing, then. In that case, no more reading for now.

I closed the book and walked over to the opposite side of the car. As I peered around the cargo I spotted Mr. Creepy Magic himself staring indifferently at the evening clouds through the side door, which he had opened once again. Despite the daylight, his hood was drawn, masking his features.

He didn’t turn but I could tell he sensed my approach.

“Ah… hello… ’hi’?”

I was quiet. Was he trying out less formal modern greetings?

He cleared his throat. “Princess Amore? I think we are going to be, ah, approaching the Empire soon.” To show this he gestured outside at the landscape: vast marshes not unlike those that surrounded the outskirts of Vanhoover greeted us; the Empire wouldn't be far from here!

I blinked in surprise. This was good! “My results must have been off, then; we will approach the Empire in four days, not seven.”

Sombra just shrugged slightly in reply and I gazed out the train car.

Soon I will be home and Shiny and I will be able to ready the Empire's troops and defeat this foe! That will work better than King Sombra's plan-

My mind blanked for a moment.

But, what about Sombra? What will happen to him if I were to go through with this?

“Princess Amore…?”

I jolted back, shaking my uncurled and slightly bedraggled mane and tail. “Yes, Sombra?”

What could he possibly want right now? Didn't he want to head to the Empire, couldn't he just wait until we were almost there to resume the course of action we were going to take?

I could hear gulping under his hood. "What is the one thing you want most in this world, Amore?"

Umm, what? Where did this come from? He's trying to talk openly with me isn't he? "Does it have to be a thing, like as in an object?"

"Absolutely not," he says brusquely, despite almost sounding feverish, "a thing, a concept, somepony, it doesn't matter who, where, or what, each and every one of us only wants one thing."

I didn't respond, still baffled by this... well, for him, I guess a somewhat typical conversation would qualify as an outburst, based on how he's acting right now.

"And of course, there's nopony to help you."

"Err, Sombra, what about friends and family? Or everypony else?"

"Really?" he retorted. "Do you think anypony who has ever gotten anywhere in actuality did so with help? Of course not! To obtain whatever it is that somepony seeks they can only truly do so alone, you may rule because the Crystal Empire was just passed to you but I doubt that sitting on a throne is what you have wanted, now is it?"

"Alright?"

"Gods, pink one, are you really that dense? It's like a bridge - a path not only leads in multiple directions but is downright abstract when you get down to it. It's one bridge and only one pony is on it in order to seek what's at the other side because as I previously stated, there's only one thing that any of us want whether we are smart enough to realize it or not. Of course, it would vary for each individual, but I don't really care since hardly anypony else is relevant to me."

“What?!” I stared at him, mouth agape. A bridge? Was he implying travel? Or Celestia forbid, re-conquest? He claimed he would help me!

I stood firm. “No! I will not help you re-enslave the empire since you claimed you would HELP ME! I take back anything even close to nice I've said or even thought about you since you're nothing more than a power-mad lunatic who seeks a crown that they never deserved.”

He stared at me blankly, then a look of what I almost believed was hurt, emerged on his face.

“No, that’s not what… ugh… just, nevermind. I thought that you of all ponies would understand.”

He left in the form of a teleportation spell, leaving me alone.

I stood there, standing as the sun set, wondering… what could he possibly have that I would understand?

But just as important: Was the real evil in Lore of Yore, and might Sombra actually be trying to tell me things that are important?

I gazed up at the clouds as the last light of Celestia's sun touched them, their fluffy white appearance now masked by rumbly gray, almost black if somepony looked close enough.

Maybe if I had looked close enough Sombra wouldn’t have been so upset. But, once again: how could he possibly have a problem I could solve? I'm the crystal monarch, Princess of Love. How could I have helped him with anything? We're hardly on good terms as it is.

The marshes glared back at me almost in a taunting manner. I bet they knew more about Sombra than I did. I know he isn't the best pony, but I could have been so much nicer!

He hasn't even tried to purposely hurt me! Sure, he's a somewhat creepy recluse who probably isn't the most trustworthy of ponies, but he doesn't seem to enjoy hurting them either.

I let the coming rain hit me, just as I let my tears hit the floor.

Shivering, I wondered who they were for. Me? The Empire? Shiny? The fairy tale?

Did it really matter?

I shuddered slightly, both from the sobs that racked me and distant rumbles I felt in the ground, causing the train to whimper with me.