//------------------------------// // 24 - Guilt // Story: Change: The New Kingdom // by tom117z //------------------------------// The hive felt oppressively quiet today. Usually flourishing with life, a place where one could not breathe without running into some kind of activity down one hallway or the next, the home of the Equestrian Hive was a silent grave without a single instance of the mourning bereaved in sight. But there was mourning. There was no end to it. It filled the very air, the changeling residents could all but taste the bitterness of loss. For a species of empaths, it was the literal definition of hell. A clustered soup of depression and bitterness that no one could avoid. In truth, they couldn’t even leave the hive, for the link shared by all was too tainted with it. And how could it not be? The mind that connected them all together held the largest sense of loss of them all, on the deepest personal level possible. Their Princess was dead. Avia, the bright-eyed idealist they’d all come to know and love, was gone. A fact Carduus knew all too well. He let it happen. “You can’t sit there all day…” Panacea called out to her husband gently, the elderly changeling mare standing by the doorway with a distracted look on her face. “It’s… not your…” “Don’t.” “Don’t what? Tell you it’s not your fault?” she asked in turn. “I know the futility of telling you that. And I’m not going to pretend I know what exactly happened between you that day, what she said to you, and what you said to her. But what I was going to say is that it’s not your place to sit and keep to yourself when you have a very worried granddaughter out here wondering where her grandfather is.” Carduus sighed, turning to look at his wife. “I know. I know… I just wish I knew what to tell them. Or any other changeling for that matter. We’ve lived a long time, have we not? Our lifespans pale compared to the Queens, of course, but still… We’ve lived a lot, seen a lot, but never have I felt so…” “Responsible.” “Yeah. That’s the word for it…” “Well, you’re not.” “I thought you weren’t going to tell me that.” “I married you, I’m used to talking with futility,” she shot back. “Look, the Queen is silent. I don’t know how she feels about it, aside from the obvious. Avia is… Well, please, think about your own children for a moment. The hive is in grief, and if we don’t support one another, what can we do? What can I do?” Carduus sighed again. She was right, of course. But her being so was only a shallow comfort; retired or no, protecting the royalty of the hive was his job. And he’d seen two slain in a lifetime. The first time around, he could take solace in that he protected the then-princess. But what did he have to say now? He let her go. The final time they’d laid eyes on one another, she’d asked something of him, and he’d acquiesced. Let her walk through the doors of the hive never to return through them again. That was a harder thing to live with. Still, he rose from his seat and faced his wife, giving her a solemn nod. She just stared at him in kind for several moments, before turning and leading the way through into the living room. Sure enough, the two lights of his life were indeed there. Iuvenes and Tutela, both looking at him expectantly. For the latter in particular, he forced a smile. “What? You weren’t waiting for me, were you?” he asked the child. “I’m fine, just getting some shut-eye is all.” “...It’s the middle of the day,” the nymph deadpanned. “Ah, who can tell down here?” he playfully dismissed. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’m not going anywhere, so let’s do something fun to pass the time. Can’t be sad all the time, can we? Where was that Equestrian game you like…?” “Twister! And you’re really bad at it!” she reminded him with a chuckle. “I guess because you’re all old now.” He gave a gasp that was half for show and half genuinely offended. “Now that’s a challenge, and I never run from those!” Panacea coughed into a hoof. “Ahem, back injury?” “Psh, I don’t see the issue.” “Oh, dear…” This was going to end with a grumpy and mildly injured changeling… “Now, go find the box,” Carduus told his grandchild who, now thoroughly distracted from recent events, rushed off to do just that. And as she did so, it was Iuvenes’ turn to step forward, though with a far less placated look on her face. “I’m not about to get more platitudes from you, am I?” “I’m a little beyond being distracted by Twister,” his daughter replied. “By some decades.” “I know. Days that have passed us by…” he noted wistfully. “Alright, out with it.” “I just wanted to see that you were really okay,” she stated. “It’s… bad out there. Puelulla is spending the time with Rose, Soronis too. So… I guess we hold onto each other for now. And Twilight too, when she returns.” Carduus’ eyes found themselves drifting away from hers. “Yeah…” “She’ll be fine. Hurt, but… The Queen has always steered us right. I mean, I’ve never known her to be down for long, even in the worst of times. Since the day I ran into her outside our old home, all bright-eyed and in awe of the returned Princess of the Hive.” “I remember. She’d been panicking, you helped convince her to come back.” “I do my best,” she said with a grin. “What can I say, everything good that has happened with her rule since was because of me. You can save your applause.” “Hilarious.” “I thought so. Just… be sure to speak to us a bit, yeah? No more hiding in the bedroom.” “Pinkie promise…” His heart lurched again. She’d made such a promise, just before the end… “I’ll take you on that cursed phrase,” she accepted. “Now come on, I think my kid was about to trounce you at a game.” “When did you get so snarky?” “At the age of thirty, I think.” “Hardy har.” He followed on behind his daughter, Panacea moving to one side as she anxiously awaited to administer inevitable medical aid. Still, he found himself having what could almost be mistaken as a pang of normality as he joined his grandchild, box held in her magic with an eager grin on her face. And yet, Avia’s fate never strayed far from his mind. “I forgive you…” came a whisper, barely audible, over the hive link. It was all he could do not to cry then and there. “It’s ridiculous, Broad Sword. Completely off the charts!” Vladimir seethed into his cup, his prosthetic wing twitching in indignation. “You’d think after serving as Captain for as long as either of us, we’d get a straight answer about something like this. But no, I guess not!” Broad Sword and Scarlet Snow just looked at him sympathetically, sat across the dining table from him within the aged couple’s home. So too was their son present, though Valiant’s eyes seemed cautiously focused on the fifth of their number. Sitting silently, his eyes far away and his mind clearly focused on other matters, Façade continued to quietly reflect on recent events. Events that had taken his child away. Valiant coughed into a hoof, getting his lunar counterpart’s attention before subtly nodding his head in the changeling’s direction. “I- right…” Vladimir sighed, his metal wing twitching irritably, sitting up straight in his seat and composing himself. “Sorry, Facade.” “Hm?” he blankly looked towards the thestral, before shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. “What about?” “I… nothing, it’s just… I was just telling Broad how I still can’t get any answers regarding my missing ponies. They up and vanished around the same time as… it all happened. Luna isn’t saying anything, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m just not being kept in the loop these days.” “You’ve never doubted your princess before,” Broad noted. “But these are… strange times.” “You… don’t think there’s a connection there, do you?” Valiant asked. “My people know nothing and are all accounted for, but those guards vanished alongside those treasures and…” Multiple sets of eyes turned to Facade, who just shook his head in annoyance. “You don’t need to dance around it,” he told them with a huff. “It happened the same time that my daughter was murdered by a warmongering alicorn from the far west. Just say it, dammit! My girl is dead, my wife is an infuriated mess, and I’m unable to do a fucking thing about it. So just say her name and be done with it.” Valiant flinched guiltily at his harsh words, but the others just eyed him sympathetically. “There is a likely connection, aye. Mayhap they got themselves involved with her intentions behind your back. Maybe something else is going on,” Broad Sword noted gruffly, leaning forward and staring daggers into his comrades. “But for now, as much as I hate to say it, it must be put to one side. Equestria is at a dagger’s edge the likes of which hasn’t been seen since the changeling invasion.” “Oh, I’m accurately aware,” Facade responded. “And I know what you’re trying to do, Broad Sword. Perform your old blunt galvanizing speech to get the ball rolling. But you needn’t bother. I know where the wind is blowing, and my daughter’s death can only lead to one outcome. I know that, and I know I need to be the beacon of strength for those that follow me and for Twilight’s sake. But at this table, just let me be a father who lost his little girl. I beg that much of you.” “Facade…” Scarlet muttered sadly. “He never meant to say otherwise. No one can deny what your feel, as much as we can’t imagine it…” “She’s right, if anything were to happen to Valiant in the years I have left…” Broad trailed off. “I can imagine, but cannot truly understand the loss that has struck you.” “Well, you could always just lose me instead. Make things easier,” Vladimir attempted to inject some small levity into the conversation. It failed. “I think that a poorly timed jest,” Broad scolded the Captain of the Lunar Guard. “Besides, you’re too much of an idiot to die.” “You got that bit right…” Vladimir replied, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “What I mean to say is that you have friends in here you can be yourself around. We all know this ends in war, Celestia help us… It takes precedence, I can’t be distracted by what happened to my missing guards, as Broad said, but for the moment… take the time. Whatever you need.” Facade nodded appreciatively. “Thanks. But… I’ll stow the tears, there’s only one mare who needs to see that, and we’ll work through it together. Hives know she’s just as bad and shouldering it all anyway.” “Will she be okay…?” “I don’t know. I don’t know if I will be okay. But if Avia were here, she’d tell me to keep my chin up and look at the facts. Write an essay on those facts, even. Hah, or multiple. Ever her mother’s daughter… So, the facts are there’s a storm coming. And my conclusion is that we need to stop it. As best we can.” “She was a good kid,” Valiant said. “The best,” Facade replied with a small smile, blinking away tears that threatened to breach in spite of his vow. “She’d want us to… My daughter would… I…” It was never a vow he could keep, no matter how hard he tried. And no amount of blinking could hide what now streaked down his cheeks, eyes screwing shut as he silently cried for a child lost. The others sat in silence, quietly and patiently lending their supporting presence for a friend in the midst of despair. And as friends and family lent one another their comfort, Facade was not alone in the pit of misery. Out through the window and along the winding streets of Canterlot, snaking one’s way through the distract of nobles and into the ground of the castle, traversing higher still to a single window overlooking the mountainside city, where an alabaster alicorns’ mind wandered to that very family, her eyes lingering where their house was known to lay. Celestia closed her eyes, her mind troubled and clouded. A child loss. A daughter in mourning. A sister plagued with guilt. A war brewing amidst it all. And a lie that could sink all she held dear, or preserve it. The gamble was the worst of all, no matter how necessary it seemed. Necessity… How much harm had been done with such lofty intentions? Luna and Avia had found that out the hardest way of all. “Oh, sister…” Celestia muttered. “What webs we weave. Are we to entrap ourselves so...?” “Yes yes, very dramatic, but it isn’t your web you should concern yourself with,” a voice that was very much unexpected sounded from inside the glass of the window, echoing ethereally around her. “Oh no, there is so much more at work than an angsty two-hundred-year-old alicorn teenager. And given your comparative lifespans and recent events, it’s not an inaccurate comparison I think.” “Discord…” “Oh, you see right through me…” Discord remarked, his visage barely becoming visible within the window. “What a pane…” “You’ll forgive me, but my mood for your jests is even lower than usual. I trust you have at least some understanding of what has happened and why any decent soul would find it within themselves to be kind and mellow during these hours?” “Your biting remarks wound me, it’s for that very reason I’m here to provide a salve,” he explained, appearing fully next to Celestia in a bright flash of light. “Besides, my intervention here can wipe away old debts. I do recall at least two previous changeling-related incidents where my wanderlust proved detrimental.” Celestia rolled her eyes. “Fine. Speak.” “Truly? You must be down in the dumps to not even try to throw me out of the castle, Tia my dear.” “Nothing about this is a laughing matter, Discord.” “...No, I suppose it isn’t. Believe me when I say I know what the cost has been, and I was the one who sent Twilight on her way.” The Princess of the Sun’s glare would have melted anyone not the immortal Lord of Chaos. “You knew. You knew what awaited us there, and you waved us away with cryptic remarks as you usually do. Now people are dead and more shall surely follow, so I am sorry if my patience for your nonsense is all but spent!” “I truly believed Twilight could handle what she found, and do it far better without my ‘meddling’ getting in the way!” he defended. “And she should have! It was all in the cards, little Twiggles would go in and do her friendship thing and long-lost brothers and sisters would do a random musical number to celebrate… Only that didn’t happen.” “Clearly.” “Indeed. They threatened for ransom. And then they got violent. Thing is, they’re xenophobic to be sure, but from all I’ve observed, they should have just ignored you at worst. King Ignis is not a conquering king. You two have much in common.” Celestia grimaced. “You’re comparing me to a tyrant?” “Tyrant? Oh no, far from it. He’s a hero to his little ponies. Tell me if you’ve heard this one; a people in despair, on the cusp of oblivion, and in comes an alicorn to solve all their problems and then gets shoved onto the throne for their trouble, and not by designs of their own.” “...Like when we defeated you.” “Quite. A millennium in stone, a nation hiding across the sea,” he confirmed. “Like all you parent-types you coddle and spoil your many annoying brats, and would never drag them into a fight that could harm the hairs on their little heads. Not unless you thought it the only way.” “And how does murdering a child accomplish that?” “How indeed? But like any angsty, naive teenager who is as worldly as you are able to resist the allure of chocolate sponge, all it takes is a bad crowd whispering the right lies into a gullible ear.” “You say he’s merely gullible?” “Oh, a complete idiot so desperate to save his people he’s imagining villains where there are none. Except, of course, the liar…” Celestia’s gaze steeled, the alicorn turning on Discord and approaching him until no gap remained between their muzzles. “Who? Who is it you claim pulls the King’s strings? Who really killed Avia?” “I don’t know, not yet. But I do have suspects. Not every Changeling Queen has been thrilled since they got all colourful.” “A changeling? But… Twilight’s planning on bringing them into this conflict.” “All part of the plan I’d say, but whose? And where to? There’s the real question, and the real answer to all your problems if I so graciously provide you with the answer,” Discord responded with a grin, a detective’s outfit forming around him spontaneously. “A Changeling Queen has betrayed you and is fuelling this conflict, playing both sides as it were. But how far does it go? Give but the word and the game is afoot!” “...Get that magnifying glass out of my face.” “Oh, very well. You have six new wrinkles, by the way.” “Discord.” “Hm, so, what do you say? They aren’t the only ones who can be sneaky, and I can go anywhere. I’ll find them, and I’ll even wrap them in festive paper when I deliver them to you. You couldn’t ask for more.” Celestia looked aside, her eyes returning to the building where she knew Avia’s father sat. And someone else in the castle, a mother yet mourned her child… “Do it. Find who did this, and end it before it goes too far.” “Oh, it’ll be my pleasure, Tia.” And then, in one final flash of light, the Lord of Chaos was gone.