Not a day passed where she didn’t wish for the cold embrace of death.

Only her eyes were capable of movement anymore, her hooves rooted to the floor by strong brass shackles. She’d long since given up trying to pull free of them—they were stronger than steel, and her magic was ineffective against the toughened metal. She could do little more than fidget, which caused a spike of pain to rocket through the young mare’s body. That pole (that damned pole!) was both her savior and her soul-crushing curse. The very reason she was alive, and the very reason she was in her place. Impossible to break free. She couldn’t move her head to look up at it, any sort of movement was as hopeless as any misguided dreams of escape. Her violet eyes were permanently fixed towards the exact spot on the blood red carpet in the massive throne room where any undesirables were forced to kneel to fruitlessly beg for forgiveness before their inevitable execution.

And it was all her fault. The Element of Magic, reduced to nothing more than a decoration, an example for anyone who might be foolish enough to think they could overthrow him.

The pole itself extended as far as one could see, straight into the ceiling of the high throne room. She had no companion on the other side of the throne, but she didn’t need one. The sight of Celestia’s prized student, Equestria’s last ray of hope, in such a position was enough to quell even the boldest rebels. If she and her friends hadn’t stood a chance, what chance did they have?

Her friends…the ones she cared about the most. They had fallen right alongside her, their deaths at the hands of his men, his corrupting power that crushed their minds and turned their bodies to blackened husks. Their elemental halters were still hung on the top of his throne, hung around the necks of her friends’ remains, the twisted and burnt skeletons of the other five Elements of Harmony, hung above his throne like hunting trophies. Occasionally, he would turn her around on the pole to observe them, to remind her of the futility of her efforts to stop him. He was all-powerful, without peer.

The doors to the throne room opened. Between two of those damned soldiers, a figure was being dragged. The prisoner cried out in protest, the voice bringing a tear to the silent mare’s eyes. They’d finally caught him. Her closest friend since she’d been a filly, who managed to evade capture and had not heard about Twilight’s fate since escaping. The small dragon was flung to the carpet with all the care of a side of meat, and tears started to spill down her face as he looked up at her. The brass shackles around her hooves, the bit and bridle in her mouth, and the towering metal pole that impaled her, connected to the floor and ceiling. Worst of all was the gentle glow of the pole, the spell keeping her alive and in constant agony forever. Even as his eyes froze on her, a fresh trickle of her blood ran down the length of the pole. She saw anger in his eyes, and he barely managed a word before he was given one simple command.

“Kneel to your King.”

The dragon started to rush for him, and was immediately halted in his tracks by a bolt of black energy. The dragon screamed, an ear-wrenching noise that she couldn’t turn away from. She was forced to watch his scales melt, his eyes burst, and finally his charred and blackened body slumped to the floor. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, yet she was unable to make a single sound. In her mind, she cried out for the sweet release of death, to take her away from this nightmare that she had caused. The nightmare that she had caused by thinking she could defeat him, instead causing her friends and family to die, and she had been forced to watch each and every single one. Then he spoke again as the guards dragged the dragon’s remains from the throne room. His voice broke the silence with a deep chuckle.

“All hail King Sombra.”

Story by Sabata. Story posted with permission.