Guilty Hornet [Old Version]

by Zombificus

Chapter Four (Part Two): Necessary Negotiations [Old/Non-Canon]

The three of us made quick progress along the labyrinthine passageways of the castle's lower levels; Starlit Scrolls to my right and Princess Maxilla to my left. Though Scrolls did not as yet know where we were headed, she remained silent as I led us onwards, electing to trust my judgement and wait for things to be explained in due course, or perhaps a little intimidated by the grim purpose which had gripped me since last we spoke. Either way, she did not break the hoofstep-punctuated silence, and as Maxilla and I were both quite content to leave our thoughts in our heads as well, although the way the unicorn was acting made me wish she would share what was on her mind.

The worried glances towards my fellow royal and the anxiety radiating in waves from the unicorn indicated fear, and I found myself once more attempting to puzzle out what was going on in that head of hers. She had shown some small fear towards many of the other changelings we'd encountered together, but this was something more, perhaps stemming from Maxilla's royal status and accordingly imposing stature.

If it was her appearance which unsettled my unicorn so, then that only made her easiness around me more puzzling: of all the changelings Scrolls had met, Maxilla was by far one of the most pleasant looking, with wide, genuine smiles and bright eyes full of eagerness as opposed to the jaded majority.
I, by comparison, was a downright haggard-looking creature: even ignoring the insectoid features and hole-ridden limbs, there were sizeable bags under my eyes and my body was tall, thin and looming in stark contrast with my counterpart's youthful curves and Prench-taught elegance.
My face, its flaws brought daily to the surface by the mirror in my room, was drawn and lined in such a way as to give the appearance of a changeling many years ahead of my own twenty-six, and my snout did less to suggest delicacy and elegance like Maxilla than it did bring to mind the sharp, angular proboscis of a mosquito.
Complete the image with my lank green mane and one would have a sight that should rightfully terrify a pony, but inexplicably my unicorn seemed to not only not mind this, but take comfort in it. With every passing moment, the theory that her amity towards me was a result of her backfiring teleport gained more and more credence. The idea made sense, but it also saddened me - the unicorn was the closest thing to a friend I had outside of my advisors and guards, and to believe that her friendliness was the result of a mere accident was to write whatever we had off as nothing more than a convenient turn of events, rather than anything more meaningful.

By the time I shook myself out of that line of thought, we had arrived at the third and deepest level of the Royal Canterlot Dungeons, and I had to take a more active role in our navigation, being the only one in our party who knew anything of this final level of the dungeons. Leading my companions left and right, through branching corridors and sudden dips, it was another long few minutes of silent concentration before we arrived at the most heavily-guarded portion of the palace. No less than four full Legionary squads, each led by one of our very best Decani, stood alert and ready for action with glaives drawn and horns lowered in the direction of the one - and only - entrance.

The sight was at once impressive and intimidating: five rows of eight morbidly glimmering blades stretched out from the seamless silver ranks, the coloured, rank-indicating crests on the helmets revealing that the most experienced soldiers formed the front line. The standard formation of Decanus on the left, Sub-Decanus on the right repeated four times across the narrow chamber, a row of grim faces somewhat at odds with the gaudy crimson and azure of their crests staring out from under their helmets. Behind them, two ranks of green-crested shifters leveled their weapons in readiness to use them, horns lighting in anticipation of a fight, and to their rear a further sixteen amber-crested drones adjusted their glaives for improved manoeuvrability. I could not help a grin - these were soldiers I could trust to do their job well.

Near-imperceptibly, one of the Decani glanced without even the slightest twitch of the head towards his fellow squad leader on the left, and a silent conversation took place between the four leaders and their seconds in command.
In combat, a changeling squad did not fight as ten individuals, but rather one ten-cog machine: the ponies had discipline, but we had more than that: advanced mind magic, and skill to use it well.
Each individual retained their motor control and the freedom to move wherever they needed to, but their minds and their senses all served the Decanus, providing a constant stream of vital information along with the raw brain-power to process it.
Every part of the whole was simultaneously commander and commanded, and the moment one spotted a threat, they all knew - the ten-part squad worked incredibly well, and it would be hard to imagine a better group of fighters without having met the Praetorians.

What was happening here was even more sophisticated: command decisions were spread between not one but four minds, the situation analysed by another four, and streams of input poured in from no less than forty different sources - if someone were foolish enough to take them on, it would be like fighting a sentient sea of steel and magical fire. I knew, the moment it happened, when the decision had been made: as one, the forty retracted their weapons and stood down, a chromatic sea of dissipating magic rising up from the ranks as twenty-four horns powered down.

After a second, the middle-left Decanus marched smartly forwards to greet us, smoothly enacting the simultaneous salute and bow the military preferred to use when greeting royalty and sending a curt nod the way of Starlit Scrolls before opening his mouth to speak for the group.

"Your Highnesses," he barked, "how may we be of assistance?"

I responded with equal conciseness, the to-the-point nature of military speech a refreshing break from the sycophantic warbling of the noble elite.

"We need to speak with the prisoner. You know what to do."

"Understood, Your Highness," acknowledged the Decanus, saluting once more before turning smartly on the spot.

He immediately strode back to rejoin his nine Legionaries, unseen communications flitting back and forth between the amassed minds, and after a moment the entire mass of forty armoured changelings split neatly down the middle to allow us access to the miniscule gateway behind them. As we strode briskly towards our final destination, the closest half of the soldiers turned to face the entrance, glaives forming a crescent of blades behind us while their higher-ranking comrades at the front adjusted their own positions to better cover our way in.

The chamber we were about to enter had been constructed by Celestia as a backup in case the Bearers of Harmony failed to defeat Discord, and it must have taken centuries of research for ponies to even lay the basis for such a powerful magical device. The proper name for it was a State-Maintaining Order Field Generator, and it was worth far more than the palace under which it resided. There had always been the very real risk that the near-god draconequus would have found some way to circumvent the Elements of Harmony, and Celestia had known from experience how dangerous he could get; and so she had prepared, and researched, and finally built something truly incredible in both power and complexity.

In appearance, it did not look like much besides a very large, spherical hole in the rock; but if it had been built for the sake of appearances it would not have been sitting as far out of the public eye as it could get, guarded by the best soldiers its possessor could throw at it. Its actual purpose was very simple: fuel it with magic, and whatever was inside would be affected more and more by the order field it created, the greater the sum of magic fed into it. At low power, all it might do would be prevent any sudden movements, spells or other chaotic happenings, but at the power level it had been intended for, with all the Royal Guard's unicorns giving their all, it would be enough to freeze even a near-god of chaos itself like Discord permanently in place, unconscious and unchanging, and feed off of his own chaotic magic to keep the field running.

In short, Celestia had built a prison for a god... A cage which had become hers, unlocked with a key that had become mine. The irony of the situation was not lost on me, but I did not take pleasure in it: I bore my predecessor no grudge, in fact respecting her a great deal for the unwavering leadership she gave her ponies, and the weight of what I had already taken from her prevented any amusement at her expense from taking flight.

We emerged at last, on the far side of the long, narrow cylinder which we had entered, into the vast spherical space of the order chamber and took a moment to sweep our gaze over the room. We could not see much: the material which lined the interior was utterly black to the point where no light at all reflected off of it, lending the chamber a shapeless quality which did nothing to ease our minds, and everything within it was bathed in brilliant white light, which threatened to blind us. The furious illumination did, however, allow us to see the one thing we'd come here to find; suspended in the very centre of the sphere, curled into the foetal position and with her mane motionless and weightless, was the statue-still form of Princess Celestia, the ever-present brightness making her appear to be made of the very sunlight she brought.

Reaching back into my mind for the stolen memory of the magical code required to operate the device, I lit my horn at the various, very specific frequencies which signified each digit of the great machine's shutdown index. As I worked, Starlit watched wordlessly, waves of interest radiating from her like ripples in a pond; Maxilla stared instead to the sun-goddess herself, slack-jawed and enthralled by the awesome sight before her.

The last digit lit in my horn, and at once everything changed: a contracting, spherical tidal wave of chromatic radiance rose from the once-black sphere and sped into the centre, leaving dull green-grey where once had been ultimate darkness. The sphere of light shrank into Celestia and vanished, and moments later she drifted slowly towards the ground, dropping the last five metres to land in an unceremonious heap as the machine's effect died once and for all.

Glancing left and right at my companions, I gave the silent signal and we advanced as one towards the downed alicorn.

She rose slowly, visibly pushing through the viscous waters of her magically induced coma to surface, gasping and disoriented, in the cold air of consciousness.The alicorn's eyes were glossy and unseeing for her first fleeting moments in reality, and she staggered to her feet without truly being aware of our presence.

Her vision soon cleared, however, and those drooping eyelids snapped back instantaneously in an expression of simultaneous shock and fury. She frowned in concentration, evidently trying to cast one of the many spells she had leaned over her long life, but no change occurred to the appearance of her horn no matter how much she screwed up her eyes and tried to force out some measure of defence against us.

Shock and rage turned to frustration and desperation as she tried and failed to cast even the most simple spell, and from there; with her attention now aimed at my companions and I; to dread, fear and the tiniest hint of betrayal - directed, no doubt, towards Starlit. She took one hesitant step back, faltered and fell onto her rump, and I in turn took that as my cue to speak.

"Save your energy, Princess, you won't be able to use your magic until it's regenerated enough... Which, given that this fine machine of yours drained everything you had, might take you a little while.
You must now realise that you are completely at my mercy: I, myself, am powerful enough to defeat an alicorn on my own, something I have already done twice.
While perhaps not as experienced as I, Princess Maxilla here is similarly powerful, and the only way out of here is blocked by the very best and brightest soldiers we have.
Your palace has become our stronghold, your bedrooms our barracks and your country our dominion. Let that just sink in for a moment, would you, before you try anything... ill-advised."

Her response was nothing more than a weak "No..." and I smiled openly as I assured her that I spoke the truth.

"I'm afraid the correct answer is 'yes', actually. You still don't believe me? Well, riddle me this, Princess:
if we had not won, how could we keep you inside your very own god-prison for as long as we have?
How come none of your Royal Guard has come to save you?
Why has your sister not freed you from your cage?
You already have the answer: if we had not won, we could not be having this conversation. Equestria is ours, Princess, and the sooner you accept that fact, the sooner we can all move forward from this."

"How...? Why?!" was the only response the downed alicorn could muster, her voice cracking as the words left her mouth and reflecting a deep sorrow within, which radiated out from her in cloying clouds of emotion.

"How? We had soldiers scattered throughout your entire city, disguised as ordinary citizens; it was hardly a difficult task to have them simply take off their masks and put on their armour.
As for lowering the shield... Well, your p-perceptive little student was right: Princess Cadance was not at the wedding, I was, and from there it was not difficult to persuade my new husband to lower the shield and let my people in.
The most complicated part of all of that was finding stunning spells strong enough to get past your armour's protective enchantments, so that we could take over without any deaths - although your Guard certainly tried its best to kill our Legionaries."

This revelation seemed as much a shock to her as the invasion's success had been, and for a moment she forgot to look furious, her eyes sparkling with interest.

"You... You didn't kill anypony?" She asked; I shook my head.

"...No. I've lived through enough bloodshed without creating more where none is needed. Your soldiers are imprisoned but safe and will come to no harm so long as they cause no harm to us.
We didn't invade out of spite, out of some idiotic desire for power; we invaded out of necessity. We needed food, and Equestria had more than a small surplus in production; so we did what we needed, to get what we needed: no more, no less.
We are in control, but we don't need to change the system to better suit our needs when it already suits us fine: the only thing we want to change is whether or not our people starve to death, and we've done all we needed to that end.
Necessity, not power."

Celestia merely seemed more confused after this, although quite understandable given her viewpoint.

"If you needed food, then why did you not request it? We are a reasonable nation; we could have made a deal to send your nation food without all this trouble of invading! I do not see any necessity here, merely greed."

"Our nations are gone, Princess.
The griffons take what the griffons want, with no regard for bloodshed or morality. They drove us out of city after city, drove us back into the desert to die - that is, if we had not already fallen defending the only homes we have ever had - and then they left again.
The land is useless to them; they only drove us out because they wanted us dead. By the time we reached the other side of the desert, we were starved and exhausted and your nation seemed to offer everything we needed.
If I had been able, I would have waited for all the official paperwork and treaty-signing and the rest of it to go through, but I did not have the luxury of time. I saw an opportunity to save the majority of my people and I took it, and for that I am not sorry...
That said, that we had to damage so much in the process is something I will readily apologise for, and we will endeavour to repair what we have broken."

I finished my explanation and looked expectantly at Celestia for an answer, but she appeared unhurried in her decision, seemingly content to let the silence drag on. Sighing, I tapped my hoof lightly against the cold stone floor and waited.

After some time, she looks up, hesitance seeping out from under her mask of composure to whisper through vibrations on my horn and betray her deliberate appearance of serenity, and finally deigns to answer my unspoken request for some small reduction in her dislike of me.

"I cannot forgive you, but if what you say is true, I cannot damn you for your actions either. As much as I dislike war, in your position I might well have done the same. Now, I doubt you woke me up just to have a casual chat, so go ahead and get to your point... Uh..."

"Hive-Queen Chrysalis De Vespidae-Alveare... And you are correct in assuming I didn't come here to assert my dominance. A particular turn of events has arisen, and I find that you may be able to help in a certain matter of importance."

"I'm listening."

"Your sister, Princess Luna, escaped from Equestria to one of your allies along with a sizeable contingent of Guards. We think she's going to try and take the city back at some point, but that isn't as important as what she herself has threatened to do.
With you out of the picture, she is now the only one controlling the sun and moon, and she has stated in no uncertain terms that the moment she so wishes, she will use that control to harm my changelings and I.
The sun and moon are enormously powerful, but their ability to affect anything more specific than a region of the country is practically nonexistent - if she tries to kill us with either one of them, she will risk the lives of everyone in this city and very likely kill more of your people than her intended targets.
Changelings are quite resistant to extremes of temperature and we can adapt fairly easily to higher or lower light levels... Ponies don't quite have the same luxury."

Her expression became a mix of frustration and disappointment - the first likely directed at me, and the second almost certainly meant for her ever-unstable sister.

"And how am I supposed to do anything about that? If she is as far away as you say, I can't talk her out of this, and I fail to see what I can do from in here, much less without my magic. Did you even think for a moment about how this harebrained scheme of yours would even work before wasting my time with impossible demands?"

Sighing, I continued and explained the plan, heart already sinking at the open hostility from the deposed alicorn.

"In the event that she tries something, we would transfer our magic onto you and you in turn would prevent her plans from coming to fruition. Such a show of trustworthiness might also convince us to let you take a more direct role in the running of the country, should you wish to work alongside me. You have experience that I can only dream of, and if at all possible I would like Equestria to remain much the same as it has been, only with the addition of my people, so any agreement we might reach is bound to be in both our interests."

Celestia's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and I had to resist the urge to express my frustration at her continued skepticism as she spoke her mind once more. "Are you trying to bribe me, Queen Chrysalis?"

"I am making you an offer. It is up to you whether you take it, but you really don't have much to lose right now. The situation with Princess Luna is a worst case scenario, and we would dearly like to avoid such action ever being necessary. I just want your word that if we need you to step in, you will: nothing more and nothing less."

She fell silent again, but it was thankfully not long before she came up with an answer this time around, though the hesitance she was feeling seeped into every word of her response.

"I... I will consider it, so long as I am no longer a prisoner of my own device. It is not a pleasant experience, being drained of your magic, and I can hardly think things over if I am frozen in time, can I?"

I mulled it over, eventually answering her with a concessional shrug. "Fair point. Come, we can find you somewhere else right now..."

"Wait," she says, holding out a hoof in a signalled request for me to stop, "what about my student and her friends? What have you done with Twilight?"

The question caught me off guard, and as a result my answer was far from convincing with its hesitant air and nervous tone.

"She's fine," I say, far too quickly, "Twilight is perfectly alright - they have come to no harm, we're just keeping them prisoner until we can be sure they are no longer a threat."

The suspicious glare returned, but the following bursts of emotion indicated that she had begrudgingly accepted my white lie, voicing her satisfaction with the reply a moment or so later.

"Very well; lead me to my new cell," she said, "I am more than capable of walking, don't you worry."

However, when she attempted to get to her hooves, she staggered off to one side and collapsed back into an awkward crouch. Midway through my reply, I trailed off to look at her in mild concern. The machine's effect should have worn off by now, especially given that she was an alicorn, but apparently even standing was a challenge for her.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she repeated hurriedly, feigning an unconcerned smile which contrasted jarringly with the sharp stab of confused fear striking out from her. Her next attempt to stand bore fruit, but only for a moment, as with her third step forward her right foreleg spasmed violently before buckling underneath her, her other legs following suit moments later and turning her three-legged lurch into a sudden, hard fall.

Muttering incomprehensibly, she tried to drag herself up for a third time but didn't even manage to raise her body an inch off the ground before fresh spasms rocked her body and she cried out in fear and pain, eyelids twitching wildly as her eyes widened and began to roll up into her head. She was shuddering constantly by this point, and her breath had become short and ragged, tears of silent terror rolling down her cheeks.

I needed to act.

The only thing I could think of which might have gone wrong is that her machine might have affected her mind in some way, and in that case I would have to take active measures to stop the damage from taking root permanently. Even in this time of dire crisis, the changeling Code drilled into me from birth made me instinctively ask for consent to step into her mind. Predictably, I received no response, and without a moment's delay longer I cast the spell and took the leap into her mind.

The first thing which struck me when I entered Celestia's mind was the sheer size of it: I could sense it stretching out for what felt like miles, and the scale of what I'd stepped into was momentarily paralytic. The second thing I noticed, looking through the metaphorical window I'd opened into her mind, is how pristine it all seemed; how ordered and even every facet of thought and memory and emotion seemed to be. There was no sign whatsoever here of the damage which should rightly have been scattered across my view like a city in the aftermath of a hurricane strike, and now that I was in there I could sense no fear or confusion from the alicorn.

It hit me far too late that I had been tricked, and I flee back into my own head, mere seconds passing before I felt the window into my own mind shatter with the force of a hundred million hurricanes, my whole world becoming pain and terror and confusion. Everything was blurred, even the most simple thought being squashed and dragged across the surface of my brain like an insect being stomped under a city-sized boot, and I fell back on the most simple mental exercise I could remember. It would not save me from having my mind torn asunder, but it would at least let me check the damage. Focusing myself inwards, I began to list.

It was getting a little easier to think now, the scattered papers of my thoughts finally beginning to spiral back down now that the hurricane of the alicorn's will has passed deeper into my mind. My senses were going haywire, though, and vaguely I was aware that I was falling, the dull pain of the impact rolling through the spell-blocked passages of my mind to arrive belatedly in the shattered throne room inside my skull. I could only guess that she was passing through the sensory part of my brain in the same ruthless manner she had done my conscious thought, but my head was in such a state of disarray that guessing was all I could do.

Finally, I understood why entering another's mind without consent was treated so seriously: even the guilt of Sparkle's death was a far preferable feeling to the sheer, gripping horror of being rendered powerless within my own head while another ransacked everything that makes me who I am. I was afraid, even more than when the griffons invaded and I had fought for my life and the lives of my people in hoof-to-talon combat, even more than when I had thought Twilight Sparkle completely removed from the land of the living, even more than when my mother hung me from the flagpole of our mansion by mane and left me there until the dehydration and exposure had nearly killed me. That was nothing by comparison - this was true terror.

I could no longer feel my body. The detachment hit me like a tidal wave, and I am sure that if I'd had any control left over my physical self I would have curled into the foetal position and cried. As it was, I had no idea what my body was doing, only that I could no longer control it: briefly I considered that if I could not control my body, then maybe my heart would stop beating and my lungs cease to open, but the icy stab of fresh fear was enough to scare me away from that particular line of thought. Eventually, I clawed my way back to a semblance of sanity, and as I finally convinced myself that if I could not change the outcome, then there was no use fearing the inevitable, a peculiar flood of calm rose up and submerged me in its warm waters.

Out of curiosity more than fear now that I had so fatalistically detached myself from the events overtaking my mind, I started to list the same things I had done the first time.

Briefly, I wondered what the point of checking my memory is - how exactly was I supposed to know if I was remembering the right thing if I couldn't be sure any of my memories were right? Still, something about those thoughts didn't seem right. Maybe she was in my memories, maybe she was somewhere else, but for now all I could do was list endlessly until something else happens. And so, I listed on...

After a while, these lists became - although I had no way of knowing at the time - much further removed from the truth, and looking back it is quite easy for me to assess Princess Celestia's ruthless path though my brain. The closer or further she got from my most recent memories, the more I listed what I might have done at those points in time, and if I had had any recollection of what was correct for the present and what was simply the result of dredged-up memory, I would have known ahead of time that the alicorn was growing closer and closer to the one memory which I wanted her least to find.

My first and only warning, had I been in any state to understand it, was my final, increasingly incoherent list:

It would not have been much of a warning, but I might at least been able to prepare for what was about to happen. As it was, I was caught completely off guard by the first tangible contact I had had with the alicorn since she broke into my mind. She had stumbled upon the memory of Twilight Sparkle's fall, evidently having been searching for information on her student's whereabouts, and was momentarily dumbstruck by what she found. This allowed me to complete my slow slide into lavender-coloured insanity without interruption, and for a split second ponder the sudden silence and absence of movement within my brain.

Then, the screaming began. The suffocating silence which had reigned over my shattered mind for what felt like hours erupted into a cacophony of agony, driving into me like a knife of condensed sorrow. At long last, I was able to sense the alicorn's position within my head, my view shifting to focus on her tiny, glowing avatar as I followed the trail of pain to its source. The micro-Celestia lay crumpled on the cold stone floor of the crystal cavern, sobbing loudly over the broken body of her student and occasionally running a hoof through the mane of Sparkle's corpse.

At some point my own consciousness had coalesced into a miniaturised version of myself, though I did not notice this until I caught the sight of my twisted reflection in one of the remembered crystals, and it was not long before the sound of my imagined hooves clopping across the stone of memory drew the grieving alicorn's attention. Whereas my soul-form was a nightmarish caricature of my physical self, hers was even more radiant than its real-life counterpart; an idealised image of a god-princess forged from the sun itself. This magnificent visage was spoiled quite effectively by the twin waterfalls of tears streaming down those glimmering gemstone eyes, by the posture-less slouch she had sunk into, by the quivering lower lip and by the sobs like miniature earthquakes shaking her once-regal form. Seeing that memory, finding what she had sought, had hurt the millennia-old alicorn more than blades or magic could ever have hoped to; in her eyes was no light, merely the deathly darkness of a mourner's stare.

She stared at me blankly, mouth opening and closing wordlessly, and I once again took advantage of the momentary reprieve to say what needed to be said.

"I will ignore, for the moment, what you did to get here: I think you'll agree the most pressing matter is right in front of us."

She took a deep breath in, let a shuddering sigh back out, but did not speak to contradict me, so I continued.

"It does not end here. There is more to that memory than that fall and that landing.... She is not dead, Celestia; not yet - I can still save her, and I will.
Even if I was, somehow, capable of living normally with the weight of her life on my heart, I vowed to save her, and save her I would.
A changeling's word is a precious thing; a changeling's vow even more so: it is binding, even sacred, and to break it would be like breaking off a part of one's soul.
I will do my best to save her, even if the chance of success is infinitesimal."

She stared at me differently after that, perhaps expecting more, but I had nothing left to say that would be appropriate for the moment: trespasser in my head and mental assaulter as she was, I could not bring myself to let loose my thoughts on that matter. There would be time later for trials and justice; now was for the grievers. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she made her reply.

"I... I am sorry. Truly, I have misjudged you quite severely, and I can see now that my reckless actions in coming here were quite undeserved. I do not expect you to forgive me, but perhaps you can understand why I did what I did.
Twilight, she... I love her. She is like a daughter to me, Chrysalis, and your answer as to her whereabouts was less convincing than it was damning. It seemed likely to me, given your invasion and your insidious methods in enabling that act, that you had harmed or even killed her and that you were lying in an attempt to retain the altruistic image of yourself you were creating.
I thought you a killer, Queen Chrysalis, and I'm afraid I acted upon that assumption without thought for consequence or morals - the idea that my dearest Twilight was dead by your hooves was catalyst enough for a rage you did not deserve. Again, I cannot stress how sorry I am for what I have done: it is clear to me now that I have lost not just a political allegiance but what might have been a friendship - I saw you as an enemy, when in actual fact we were on the same side all along.
I will help you against Luna, should the situation require it, and you have my blessing to rule Equestria in my stead. Again, I do not expect you to do so, but I hope that one day, perhaps, you might forgive me and we can both move forwards from this."

The way she smoothed over the subject of the harm she had caused me as if it were some minor discomfort to be forgotten after a moment's distraction made my blood boil, and all the broiling rage and hurt came rushing up and onto my newly sharpened tongue.

"You are right: I cannot forgive you. What you have done to my mind, no matter the reason, has been the most traumatising experience I have ever had - we changelings have a very strict code of conduct when it comes to mental magic, and you just trampled every rule in that book into dust on the incorrect, shortsighted and downright idiotic assumption that I had killed your precious student.
You showed no restraint in your systematic ransacking of my mind, never entertaining the thought that you might be wrong at any point, and as a result I may be permanently impaired - the amount of damage you have done here is incredible! I might never even wake up from this, let alone regain control of my body or rearrange my memories!
For all I know, my body is shutting down as we speak and in a minute or so I might be dead - and for what, exactly? So you could make sure your precious little Sparkle was alright? To find proof enough in my mind that I had hurt her to justify killing me?
Do you still not understand what you've done to me?
Let me put it into real world terms for you, then: you have just enacted the psychological equivalent of beating me to the brink of death and having your way with me whilst I bleed out. Even if I do recover from this, the wounds you have made today will never heal, and all because you are somehow under the impression that no idea in that oh-so-wise brain of yours might be wrong.
I will use you if I need you, but do not expect any more than that from me."

She seemed taken aback by that revelation, and her next words made as much abundantly clear.

"I... I had no idea I had done so much damage! Please believe me, I never meant to cause you any harm - I just wanted to know that Twilight was okay. I thought I was just poking my snout in where it didn't belong; breaking your personal privacy. If I had known what I was doing I would never have... Oh, heavens, I am so sorry!"

My mouth set in a grim line, I shot her fumbled apology down with a dismissive wave of my hoof. "I wish I could believe that."

Fear, real fear this time, filled her eyes and she began pleading as if her life depended on it:
"You have to believe me, please! I didn't mean to-"

"I don't have to do anything, especially not what you tell me to. Whatever respect I had for you was shattered along with the rest of me, and all I see when I look at you is a detached, amoral sociopath with no regard for the lives or cares of others besides those she fixates her unhealthy obsessions upon. You say she is like a daughter to you, but she has no need of a second mother, much less one as cold and far removed from equinity as you. I will not tell you twice: get out of my head, before I take your body and trap you in the crippled shell of mine."

"I-I... You wouldn't-"

"We reap the seeds we sow, Princess, and from where I stand you are due more than a little harsh justice. You have ten seconds before I pay you back in kind for what you have done to me."

"I'm sorry, Chrysalis-"

"Nine..."

"-please believe-"

"Eight..."

"-I never meant to-"

"Seven..."

"I swear, I meant you no harm!"

"Six... Five... Four..."

"I'm sorry!"

"Three..."

"If there is anything I can-"

"Two..."

"-do to make it up to you-"

"One..."

"-I will do it."

She disappeared before I could finish my countdown, her parting promise echoing in the shattered husk of my mind for several minutes after her departure. But now that she had gone, taking her stabilising influence with her, my mind began to chaotically piece itself together however it could, with shattered bits of memory and consciousness fusing into a demonic collage of young and old, new and ancient, good and bad, and I felt my own conscious thought merging with the discordant, confused mess.

Thought and memory swirled like the tumultuous tumbling of the river at the bottom of a waterfall as my bubble of consciousness fused into place amongst the poorly reassembled pieces of a lunatic's jigsaw puzzle, into the Frankensteinian bastardisation of thoughts and memory that had once been my mind. Feeling rushed back into my body, the reunification of body and mind nearly complete, and with a sickening feeling of sudden acceleration I lurched awake, eyes opening involuntarily and remaining pinned back as wide as they could go, my newly regained vision swimming with tears and lurid, blurring colours. I was conscious, at least, but I was still damaged beyond the limited capabilities of my self repair - I had thought Celestia's mental invasion more terrifying than anything, but this nauseating blend of familiarity and alienation within my own body produced its own kind of horror.

Even as hooves touched my body and voices rang incoherently in my ears, I was alone, my barely-functioning husk of a body my only companion, a companion whose usual comforting responses had disappeared completely in favour of fresh nightmares of twisted sensation and shattered comprehension.

Even as those same hooves lifted me, the voices asking what, exactly? Could I move? No, no I could not, despite how much I might crave the return of control over my body. And so, as the stone corridors passed in a dizzying blur, I did the only thing I could: I cried for everything I had lost, and tried to ignore the humiliating sensation of hot liquid trickling down the insides of my thighs, yet another bludgeoning reminder that I controlled nothing in this horrible new reality besides my lungs and my tears.

When, at long last, we stopped, I took a long, long time indeed to notice it; lost as I was within the broken labyrinth inside my head, and no longer caring about the world which no longer belonged to me. Voices; calm, soothing, but still incomprehensible, cooed this and that and tried to soothe the unsootheable. I was right in the middle of one in a series of fragmented, raging rants about their - to me, incredible - inability to do anything of use besides talk, when I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my left foreleg and the world turned to still, comforting blackness.

Unconsciousness enveloped me like a blanket, and I flew into its embrace with open hooves. For now, at least, the nightmare would be over.