Chapter 11: Identity crisis

The music blared; there was a thumping to the beat. Blood-red lights illuminated the club as smoke rose from the ceiling. The hours had passed well into the afternoon; enough hours had passed that outside the club the sun was just beginning to set over a frosty Empire. Yet Umbra felt no fatigue or tiredness from the rigorous sex and lewd dancing that she had spent every second doing. It seemed with every moment there was a new opportunity to gain more control, to conquer another willing fool, to be powerful once again.

Now she was mingling among the visitors, clubbing as if she were a normal guest. Of course she was far from a normal guest; that much was self-evident from the number of perverts drooling over her body, hanging on her every word, and fulfilling her every request. It allowed her to indulge in certain comforts that she had been denied before.

“Your Queen’s glass is getting empty; who will fix this?” She asked, shaking her glass, drained of all but a few ice cubes.

“Me, my Queen! Please, I have plenty of bits; I’ll get you one."

“I could make you a drink myself, free of charge!”

"Hey, I spoke first! Stop trying to steal this chance from me!”

“Fuck you! This isn’t about who came first! It’s about who can get our queen the best drink!”

Umbra shook her head and smiled, rubbing her ass against the back of the mare who’d volunteered to be her stool. Oh how she loved to watch them fight over her, to squabble over the privilege of serving her. She leaned back into her impromptu throne; another of her particularly busty fans served as her backrest, while two other ones served as her armrests and another as her footstool. A far more comfortable throne than the cold crystals of the Crystal Palace throne.

Flash Sentry was still here, tied to a leash on all fours. He alone knew that Umbra was the real deal, the real Sombra, unlike the rest of these gawking fools. Occasionally, Umbra liked to glance at him. Enjoying the way he would whimper or shiver as he watched. His thoughts were a mix of silent horror and arousal as he watched the enemy he'd sworn to destroy be pampered like a queen. No magic required.

A drink was offered to her lips, and Umbra all too happily took it. She'd chosen another mare for the role of maid and cupbearer. Umbra may have gained a new appreciation for stallion cock (especially that stud Shining Armor's), but she still had a preference for the female form. Most likely a remnant of her time when she had been Sombra. Perhaps it would pass in time the more she became Umbra.

Umbra's eyes widened; her red eyes became fierce slits like a tiger's. Her right hand, which had been patting her pony armrest, suddenly clenched into a fist, taking a fistful of the mare's orange mane into it. The music and sound around her seemed to quieten compared to the sound of her own heart, and it was like her throat was being strangled. Her mind started to replay the treacherous thoughts in her mind, as loud to her as an alarm.

'When she had been Sombra?'

'The more she became Umbra?'

Her red eyes darted around the room; a few perverts seemed to notice something wrong, but most seemed oblivious. Flash Sentry was the one who had noted her distress the most. "My Queen, is everything al-"

"DON'T!" Umbra snarled, a blast of red magic erupting from her horn and striking Flash Sentry in the chest, knocking him onto his back. "Call me that."

The talk and discussion in the club froze in an instant; soon the only sound was the blaring music that seemed so much quieter than it had been before. Every pair of eyes was on Umbra. From the perverts that had been serving her to Flash Sentry and her pony throne to the bartender staff and the other strippers. Radiant Hope might be staring as well; Umbra didn't know. She didn't care.

The silence was maddening, and only added to her mounting confusion. Her panicked mind frantically searched for an excuse to escape and leave her alone with her own thoughts. Eventually all she could think off was a timid: "You bore me."

As she left, Flash Sentry turned to Radiant Hope with a concerned frown. “Do you think we should have told her that was all roleplay?

But Umbra didn’t hear him nor Radiant Hope’s response. She marched out, ignoring their pleading and begging for her to stay. She did not bother to dress herself, not quite caring who looked at her, and taking turns at random to try and avoid those that she was certain must be perusing her. Once she was sure that she had lost them, she buried her head in her hands, as if it were melting off her face.

She was losing herself more and more. Every time she sought the carnal delights or power that Umbra provided her, the more and more she lost her identity as Sombra. It was a viscous cycle, the lure of power through pleasure tempting her into embracing her new identity as Umbra. Of relinquishing her old identity as Sombra once and for all.

Umbra’s fists clenched. She wouldn’t let it happen. She wouldn’t be redeemed like those other weak villains. She would be feared, despised. She might have the body of Umbra, but she was still Sombra at heart. A pony to be feared.

"No pony fears you anymore." A small, treacherous voice whispered. Umbra’s thoughts were brought back to Radiant Hope’s conversation. Nobody feared her any more. No one feared Umbra or Sombra. "You're becoming a fucking footnote."

“No.” Umbra snarled, her fist slamming against an alleyway wall. Mercifully, she must have ditched her fans some while ago and was alone now. “I am Sombra. I may be trapped in this body, but I am still Sombra at heart. I am a tyrant. A dark king. And I will be feared!”

She marched out of the alleyway, each step thundering as she walked with renewed purpose. She would prove that she was still a pony to be feared; she would never be forgotten. She just needed an opportunity.

She spotted it in a group of schoolchildren making their home from a long day at school. Two fillies and a colt, young enough to not have their cutie marks and without their parents. It was too easy.

She formed into dark smoke once again, but this time it wasn’t for stealth. She allowed her dark form to spread far and wide, eclipsing the sun and draining all the light from the sky.

“W-what’s going on?” Said the youngest filly, glancing around, trembling.

“Are you casting a spell, Green?” The colt asked the older filly with a notable quiver in his voice. “This isn’t funny, you know.”

“I-it wasn’t me!” The older filly answered, though she tapped her horn as if checking it for a malfunction.

“Stop it! Stop it!” The younger filly, a little older than a toddler, screamed. “Make it go back to normal.”

Umbra smirked, a small thrill of relief. At least these ponies seemed to show some fear. Summoning all her grandiose terror as she spoke in a dark, sinister voice. "There is nothing your friend can do, not against power like mine."

The three young ponies looked around in terror as Umbra swirled around them. She was little more than a red streak to them, and she moved so fast that they had to keep turning to keep up with her. "Who are you?" "I-I warn you, my Daddy is a member of the Crystal Guard!"

The colt's voice betrayed him; there was a noticeable quiver to it, and Umbra could see his knees shaking like jelly. She grinned; this was proof. Umbra couldn't help but feel relief well up inside her heart. There had perhaps been one small part of her that had been worried that not even children would fear her now, but alas, it seemed that she had been wrong.

"Your father cannot save you. Your parents cannot save you." She said, her dark voice echoing from every direction, enchanted as it was by magic. Her smoke form landed before them and formed into her true form before them. She had landed on one knee but soon rose herself to her full height. "For you have drawn the ire of Sombra. Dark Lord of the Crystal Empire. And with it, you have drawn your doom."

There was a beat; three eyes looked at Umbra. But the terror seemed to have been wiped off their faces. Umbra could feel a nerve twitch. "WELL? Aren't you going to say anything?"

"You mean you're finished?" The oldest filly asked. She looked to be about fourteen; she sounded a little disappointed. “Isn’t there any more?”

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IS THERE ANY MORE?" Umbra screeched; all the malice and terror she had meant to project had disappeared, and she sounded as petulant as a teenager.

"Well, it looked like you were just warming up. I mean, it was cool what we had, but it wasn't long enough to be scary." The fourteen-year-old filly said. "I mean, in all the horror movies of Sombra I watched—"

"THIS ISN'T A—" Umbra paused, red eyes glaring. "There are horror movies of me?"

"Well of Sombra, some cheesy B-movies have him as a big scary monster. We love binging them; they're so funny." The colt, probably ten or eleven, admitted, not a shred of shame on his face.

"F-funny?" Umbra gasped, voice going hoarse.

"Hey, isn't Sombra like a guy? And he's way bigger than you, all strong and muscly." The youngest filly, perhaps six, seven, or eight, babbled. "And he would go HAW, HAW, HAW!"

"No, it wasn't; it was more like HE, HE, HE!"

"Nah, it was more like HO, HO, HO!" The colt answered, giving what sounded to Umbra like the worst Santa Claus impersonation she had ever heard. What was worse was that the other children were nodding along.

"That was it." The eldest said, snapping her fingers. "HO, HO, HO!"

"HO, HO, HO!" The seven-year-old echoed, giggling as she did so. The three of them walked along, seeming to have forgotten about Umbra's presence, each of them doing their own different emotions of the B-movie Sombra's evil laugh. Meanwhile, Umbra just stood there frozen, the wind kicked right out of her sails. She didn't know how long it was until she moved. She just was defeated.

Eventually she found a way to will her numb body to move, even if she walked as slowly as a snail. She opted to find a nearby tree and bang her head against it, her horn carving a nasty crack into the trunk of the tree. She felt faint; perhaps her lack of sleep was starting to catch up with her, but more likely she was faint from despair. The simple, horrifying truth that she had tried to deny was creeping up on her, and she couldn't deny it any longer.

Sombra was dead. The feared, malevolent tyrant that had once made ponies quake and shiver was no more. She was Umbra now, or if she wasn’t Umbra yet, then it would surely be only a matter of time. Her life as a king who struck terror was over; now there would only be a queen.

A Queen who would rule, yes. She had not given up her dreams of power and domination. But she could not gain that power with the **** and conquest that Sombra would use. She would rule instead with lust and seduction and tap into the sin that seemed to run through the hearts of every stallion and mare in the Crystal Empire.

But… it was hard to give up her last ties to her life as Sombra. Paradoxically, her heart felt both heavy and light as she admitted her truth to herself. Heavy from the enormity of her past self that she was giving up, and yet light, almost relieving in some way. It had, at least, been so hard to pretend that there was still a part of Sombra still inside her.

Umbra pulled herself up from the tree. She was relieved to see that no tears had escaped her eyes. She had no time for that foolish weakness. She could not afford to be distracted by emotions from what she had to do. She had to slam the door on her old life as Sombra to bury any trace of that old stallion and embrace Umbra completely.

And she meant the "bury" part literally. She summoned a magical shovel into her hands and started to dig at the base of the tree she had been wallowing at. It was probably illegal; this park was probably owned by the city council, but Umbra didn’t care. If anyone tried to interrupt her, they’d soon come to regret it, likely with a simple magic blast.

With the hole suitably deep enough, Umbra took the only possession she had left from her time as Sombra: the crown on her head. It was the only article of clothing she had that didn’t get replaced or modified in some way when she had been transformed into Umbra. She placed it into the grave as tenderly as if she were holding a corpse.

She took a deep breath. “We’re here to say goodbye to the great villain known as the Dark King Sombra. For life has been cruel, and this great man has passed, and I know he was feared and loved by many.”

A moment passed, the only sound in the air a small cricket in the park. Despite everything, Umbra couldn’t help but be vexed that her former life’s funeral would apparently be so empty.

“There will never be another like him. For a great man has fallen.” Umbra cried, tears now forming in her eyes. “He was magnificent. The whole world knew his name, and they feared him like they do with all great men. Yet he was a stallion that did no wrong, even when he was burning down innocent towns, for Sombra was king. And though his people didn’t always appreciate him—

Umbra shot a nasty glare at the Crystal buildings around the park. “He always did what was best for those who deserved it. Though there were few who deserved his best, for he was unlucky enough to be born in a world like this one. One that was ungrateful, cruel, and did not accept his rightful place as their ruler.”

Umbra wiped a tear away from her eye and sniveled; the tragedy was simply too great.

“And so now we must bury the greatest, most powerful, most feared, most handsome, and most well-endowed stallion that the Crystal Empire and the world have ever seen.”

With a heavy heart, Umbra levitated the pile of dirt that she had dug before and buried the crown under it. And as a final touch, she carved an epitaph onto the tree with her magic.

‘Here lies Sombra, you bastards didn’t appreciate him enough.’

It wasn’t enough. Had she had all the resources in the world, she would have constructed a tomb grander than the pyramids and taller than the sky. But considering her limited resources, this would simply have to be enough.

She made her way from the grave and started to roam the streets of the Crystal Empire aimlessly. At least until her stomach started rumbling, and it occurred to her that she hadn’t eaten anything since that impromptu tea party with Twilight and Cadance. It wasn’t her first choice, not by a long shot. But where else was she supposed to eat?

She sighed, this time out of frustration, more than anything as she reluctantly made her way to the palace.

She arrived at the Crystal Palace around half past seven in the evening. About the time the royal couple tended to have their dinner with their young daughter. She noted the guard’s confusion at the front gates at the palace, as their supposed prisoner walked in through the front of the palace. As casually as possible.

The royal couple didn’t like to have breakfast in the grand royal dining chamber. That was a place for feasts and royal guests, and it felt so empty and awkward without a host of at least a hundred.

So instead the royal family had selected one of their smaller and more cozy living rooms. A room that wouldn’t make a poor impersonation of diplomats and nobles if Flurry Heart’s food stained the surfaces or if someone spilled their morning coffee. No, this place was a place for family, not guests. It might not be as grandiose as the rest of the palace, but it was homely and cozy, and the royal couple loved this room more than any other.

But Umbra hated it. It was a poor man’s breakfast table. Beneath the dignity of a mare like herself. Worse was that Cadance and her family would insist on inviting her to breakfast in this cozy, cottage-like place every morning. It was nauseatingly sweet and loving, a home fit for those who couldn’t afford real luxury.

Adding to the humiliation was that the Royals should have been waited on by servants (or, in Umbra’s personal preference, slaves). But instead it seemed that Cadance stupidly insisted on cooking everything herself. Told them it helped her relax, because of course more work was certainly relaxing.

Alas, if Umbra didn’t turn up, then she expected that they would fear that she had gone on the run. Or worse, they'd be concerned that she was going hungry, and they would start to worry as if she were their own child. Umbra had no desire to be smothered like that.

So she made her way to their breakfast table. Making an active effort to avoid making eye contact with Twilight, Cadance, and Shining Armor as she slumped into her chair. Two maids had been invited on this occasion, and one of them shoved a plate of some fancy pie made of hay and flowers before her. Umbra had no patience to wait for a fork and simply buried her face and gnawed at the food that came closest to her mouth. Only distantly aware of the conversation taking place around her.

"Sombra...what's wrong?" Shining Armor asked, but his voice was tentative. Umbra could tell that part of him really hoped that he wouldn't have to have any kind of discussion with Umbra, but his nobility **** him to ask.

"Mmmm...." With great effort, Umbra managed to lift her face out of her hoof flakes. She barely cared that pieces of the melted cheese stuck to her face or the grass that dripped from her hair onto the table below, and she chewed with a dull melancholy. She didn't want to remain here; her hunger seemed to be sated with only a few nibbles. Or perhaps it had been silenced by despair.

She stood up so suddenly that she surprised even herself. “I’m finished.” She said curtly, and she all but stormed out, leaving a confused royal couple behind. The door slammed with more **** than Umbra had intended to use.

“What was that about?” Twilight asked, but both Shining Armor and Cadance seemed just as confused as her.

For Shining Armor, although he’d never admit it, there was a part of him that was glad that Umbra seemed so distressed. After all, it served to distract Umbra, and in so doing, it put off the all too inevitable confession to Cadance.

Shining Armor did not doubt for a moment that Umbra was planning something with their affair with Silver Shield earlier. It was what Sombra would have done, after all. If Shining Armor had to guess, he would guess that it would be ****, or perhaps she was just waiting for the best opportunity to reveal the truth that would make for the most dramatic fallout.

Shining Armor’s insides felt as if someone had poured a whole gallon of acid down his throat. He knew he needed to confess, but his shame kept him from doing so. And the more he avoided it, the more ashamed he became, which meant he found it harder to confess.

Across from him, though, his wife was very much not pleased by Umbra’s sudden change in attitude. She was picking at her own breakfast and rarely even putting any of the food to her mouth. She had been so close, so close to taking her first real steps towards her dream of ultimate submission. She had been practically vibrating with excitement as she wondered what Umbra would do next, what new depravities she would lead Cadance to embrace.

Cadance stabbed at her food with a fork. She could not quite keep the bitterness out of her. She would have to be patient again. After coming so close. The most painful part was that she had no idea what was wrong. She wanted to help, wanted to be active, wanted to offer advice, and wanted to give suggestions. She wanted to do anything that would put her on her knees before that sexy tyrant again.

She was a **** after all; that was what she loved being. But what good was a **** who could not serve her Queen?

Cadance couldn’t do anything about it, of course. But she opted that instead she would have to find some kind of distraction.

“How about a movie night, Twilight?” Cadance asked, clapping her hands together with a smile that was a little too wide to be believable. “There’s a whole collection of scary movies we still haven’t gotten through.”

“If they were anything like the ones you showed me already, they’re bound to be a laugh.” Twilight said, smiling. “What was that one where Sombra went ‘HO, HO, H!?’”

“Terror of the Shadow King?”

“That was it.” Twilight said, a smile breaking out across her face. “HO! HO! HO!”

Cadance smiled more, but there was a spasm of unease that crossed her face at the mention of Sombra, for it reminded her of what she was meant to be distracting herself from. "Yes, indeed, that was the one. Perhaps, however, a different franchise. I remember there was one of Tirek, but they managed to get the pony and horse ends mixed up!"

"Wait so he has the head of a horse and the body mixed up?" Twilight asked incredulously, a bemused smile on her face.

“Yep, and he just goes, 'Neigh.' And you’re in it too as the warrior princess who fights him. You even have a magical girl transformation and a battle cry?” Cadance gushed, picking up a giggling Flurry Heart from her high chair. Trying not to get too stained from the mess that the cheerful young Flurry Heart liked to make with her food and cradling her in her arms.

“Let me just put this little tyke in her crib, and I’ll get straight to it, Twilight.” Cadence said as she carried Flurry Heart out of the room with Twilight following close behind her. Leaving Shining Armor alone in the room with two maids.

The room felt unnaturally silent now; the sound of Shining Armor’s chewing seemed to radiate through the room like the banging of a drum. Shining Armor’s eyes were darting around to find the source of this awkward silence or perhaps to distract himself from it.

His eyes fell instead on the two young maids whose eyes were watching him so very intently. Except when they would flicker to each other as if sharing some kind of untold secret. Every once in a while their hands would twitch and their mouths would threaten to open, but then they would silence themselves.

By their fifth attempt to try and say something, the silence simply became unbearable. Shining Armour placed his cutlery down and turned to his two maids, a warm smile on his face as he pretended to be oblivious to their previous anxiety. “Did one of you want to say something?”

The one on the left hesitated and looked to the one on the right. The one on the right swallowed, a silent conversation broke out between them. Eventually the one on the right spoke first. “Umm… Floor Polish wanted to say something to you.” She said, whilst pointing at the maid on the left.

Floor Polish seemed to not want to be the one who said anything to Shining Armor if her glare towards her fellow maid was anything to go by. But eventually she swallowed and stepped forward, her brows furrowed as if she was carefully thinking through every word that was about to come out of her mouth. Shining Armour simply waited for her to answer patiently; he had more than enough experience doing the same when it came to nervous new recruits in the training yard.

“We…we spoke to Prancing Pony, Shining Armor. -Sir!—Shining Armor, sir!” She said, words following out of her mouth more loudly and more quickly than she meant to. Her spine seemed rigidly **** upright.

Shining Armor’s patient smile became fake, and he could feel beads of sweat trickle around the back of his ears. His knuckles changed from a pale to a sickly white, and he gripped them firmly against the table.

“Oh…”

It was impossible to keep the panic out of his voice. Every second now seemed to be agonizingly slow; he could practically hear them ticking by. Each one passed like a minute as he awaited their judgment.

“Umm… what did she tell you?” Shining Armor’s voice was like that of a mouse, unusually squeaky. His blue eyes darting between the two maids with a look of near abject terror.

“How you fucked her.” The right maid spoke out, a little too quickly. She stopped herself when she realized that she had spoken perhaps a little too eagerly. Her face was flushing red.

“What Dusty Shine means to say.” Floor Polish said, staring daggers at her fellow maid. “Is that Prancing Pony? She told us how well you and she had sex. How she massaged you, how intimate you two got. How big your cock is a-and well…”

She stammered, unable to **** the final words out of her throat. Shining Armor could feel his heart hammering in his throat. His treacherous cock stiffening, hardening, rising. He didn’t know if he should hide it or not, or if it was even possible to hide his mammoth meat. It was clear that both Floor Polish and Dusty Shine had seen it, though, and they were impressed.

"Well, what?” He said, his voice hoarse, almost daring. There was a spark of anger in his voice. Why? Why did everyone seem eager to remind him of his shame?

“It’s just…” Floor Polish stammered. She could hear the anger in his voice, and her voice trembled with sincere hurt. Shining Armor’s anger immediately vanished to be met with genuine concern. But his attempts to apologize were quickly cut off by Dusty Shine.

“We weren’t criticizing Mas-Sir. We just…” She pulled down the collar of her maid outfit to reveal another collar underneath. One that was made of a beautiful, dazzling blue crystal but was still a very snug and restrictive fit around her neck. An image of Shining Armor's shield-based cutie mark could be seen on it. Floor Polish pulled down her collar and revealed an identical collar. “We wanted to join.”

Shining Armor’s jaw dropped, his head turning between the two maids. First Umbra, then Silver Shield, then Prancing Pony, and now these two maids. Perhaps… perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad. Cadence was the Princess of Love after all. She would understand what these girls were going through.

And wouldn’t it be cruel to leave these two girls wanting? Look how **** they both were. How much they both needed it and how eager they were. Was more love going around truly a bad thing? Cadence had always been a generous pony; would she really object to making multiple girls happy rather than just one?

Only one fact gave him unease. Would this make him like Sombra? An entitled tyrant who saw people as objects for his own pleasure and power. But this wasn’t what Sombra did at all, was it? After all, it wasn’t like these girls were being mind-controlled by him, was it? They were throwing themselves at him one by one, and he didn’t need to lift a finger. He wasn’t controlling them; they wanted this. Perhaps even more than he did.

There was a small shred of guilt taking the form of a voice in his head defiantly screaming that he would regret this later. That he was still betraying Cadance, that it wasn’t worth it, but his dick seemed more than capable of silencing those thoughts as he turned to the girls.

A big smile spread across his face as his mental nugget of doubt was vanquished. He stood up, dropped his trousers to the ground, and enjoyed their ‘eep’ of delight as his massive phallus finally broke free.