//------------------------------//
// Chapter 23: Cruelest Choice 
// Story: Penned IN 
// by Qwix 
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	At himself.

Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. "Hm? Is that so, o' dearest fool of mine? You would sooner raise a blade to your own heart than on defense of it?"
Pennaprose grimaced. "Far more than sooner I would raise it at yours, dearest highness, than mine. But I know that I am a millennia out of my league here. I cannot fight her... in more ways than one."
She contemplated him from her throne, rolling off of it in the process. A small flash of light emitted from her horn; neon green chains erupted from the ground not unlike the ones that bound Gosthette to bind Lyra.
"...Well then. What to do now? I was hoping you would have at least raised that gift from dearest Quitangu in defense of yourself. Quiwi? What do you say?"
Quitangu sighed in her elaborate seat by the throne. "I wanted to see silver stained with rubies. Either hers or his, it's somepony's blood either way. Care to start a chant? A wave maybe?"
Chrysalis chuckled. "I think not. There's not enough of crowd for it to be worth that, don't you think?
"...Meh. Still, that silver, though..."
Chrysalis turned her focus back onto the arena. "But I digress. Pennaprose Lochflow, you've proved yourself admirable in will and resolve here. I was willing to let you join my army unharmed. I had only promised Gosthette to pull you from the coming crossfire of war on Equestria and treat you as a guest whilst in the hive. I have the means to send you back to the human world; such is how Gosthette consented to work for me until she needed to leave... And I would have been content to leave it at that." 
She paused, glaring at him. "But now... you've piqued my curiosity... What say you? I can give you the power to erase your worries, to see the world from the top of the mountain of victory... and to at least be with the one you love. Riches of the hive are mutually shared, an entire community where you will find that nopony denies your dreams or kills your wishes. We are all equals here..."
Pennaprose hesitated, blade lowering slightly.
"Ah. I sense that you are tempted...? The hive offers many things that Equestria cannot. And when we conquer Equestria, everything that Equestria can offer that I cannot shall be ours as well. And you see, Equestria is already mine, in effect..."
"...And how do you figure that?" Yet again, the words came without thought; he made a mental note of it while staring daggers at Chrysalis.
"Oh dear, now you're tempting me to monologue. I like that... I read romance and adventure novels all the time, the antagonist always must spout their motives and goal at some point. Blah-blah-world-domination-blah-blow-everything-up-as-a-back-up-plan, stuff. Though before I do..." 
She whistled. "Krayka, keep to my side. Watch for anything he might try whilst I rant, rave, chortle at, spout, coerce, or otherwise blow out of proportion the nature of my plans and its effect. That's what always screws the villain up; they're too busy caught up in their megalomania that they miss crucial developments."
"You've always been something of an actor, Chris," quipped Quitangu. "Good thing I brought popcorn." She ruffled somewhere beneath the ledge, producing a bag. "Damn, forgot the butter..."
Chrysalis smirked, her fangs glinting in the dim light as she begun. "Now, 'What is her devil-minded plan?' you might think. 'How is she so confident that she has already succeeded?' you might question. Ah, but all so simple the answer, so elegant the implications, that it should have been discovered by past generations of changeling Kings and Queens long ago. At least, the theory... but in no small part to the mind of Apparatus IX, Aloysius 'Pane' Amberaim, our takeover of Equestria has proceeded from the shadows, virtually unnoticed by the civilians and even those royal sisters that had balked me so the first time. I was not sneaky enough... or perhaps, the scope of a mere changeling's powers were simply not enough? One method without a backup plan was my folly then... But!
"I gather the scattered remnants of my kind; they still saw me their Queen, thus it was my duty to find the way to a better life for them. As it had always been... my kind was forced to begin again from square one. But this time, I had one critical asset that no previous generation of gilded glory or pitiable failure had ever had. One so potent to our success now that it was almost insulting to our forefathers of their past efforts."
She paused again, this time producing a small orb that was filled with a swirling substance.
"The science of changeling magic and it's differences from Equestrian magic had always been the focal point. Why we could transform, how we could use the nighttime like no other being save Luna herself, that we would be cursed to thrive off something that was beyond our reach. The magic of Love... and that detestable alicorn that represents it. Procuring the source would have made our lives so much easier... but to no avail."
She set the orb on her throne's armrest. It seemed to notice the change; it stopped swirling and coalesced into a small ball in the epicenter of the sphere.
"Tell me, though. Are you aware with how Equestria was founded? Three leaders of the three common pony races... Earth, Pegasus, Unicorn... quarreled and fought, their coldness reaching from beyond their hearts and freezing the land they previously inhabited. They all thought to move to a new place, but all found the same new land. Nothing had changed, and they fought even worse.
"What was the source of that cold? What hellion's magic would cruelly enlarge the dark hearts of the wicked, bringing the land to despair? Long held tales within the hive tell that the changeling sprung from a common ancestor of this being... the windigo."
She raised a hoof, smashing the orb without warning. A giant, spectral image of a stallion rose from it, loosing form as it expanded. Eventually, it hit the ceiling and dispersed across the room.
"...They feed off hatred as the changeling does with love. The forces are diametric, meaning that the tales of us having a common ancestor must be true... for we must have evolved to be like this; no god among the divine would be so cruel as what nature would intend. A fairy tale passed down from mother to colt echoes this truth."



And Her brother named Djiingoh, resentful to her sister's rule
Had left their ancestral home for find His calling in spite
Great Changeré from the West waved him off, past the East's lored hills
No word had yet come to us, but She wept in the night.

But Great Changeré led us, with her heart of pure Love
While the wicker-willed Djiingoh had stormed the peak mountains
We watched onward as we basked in her warmth
Whilst his lands were nothing but dread snow fountains.

He saw them with cruelty, in His Sister's warm West
He now ruled snowfields, no pony to give him strength
He returned to Great Changeré's land, thinking of nothing but His
And covered Her land with snow at great length

Great Changeré saw this, and wept more for Her brother
That her land would bring war by merely His virtue
But resolved was Her heart to end all the fighting
To bring war upon war and to bring Love's greatest curfew.



She paused dramatically as the last line resounded off of the walls and echoed to silence. "Changeré... and Djiingoh. Queen Changeré is said to be the first changeling Queen, who had deeply loved her subjects. It is thought that her subjects had begun to call themselves 'changerlings'... which time had undoubtedly corrupted into the modern-day 'changelings'. Djiingoh, a stallion beholden of a cold, wicked heart, was once sibling to Her before he left one day for the mountains to the East to find where he might teach the strength of hatred. The same mountains that border Equestria to the East, in fact. The lands that Equestria's founders left were, in fact, the same lands that Djiingoh had found to rule. There he ruled the ponies he had found there, finding their mutual hatred to be his strength."
She sent a blast of magic into the remnants of the released windingo in the ceiling. The vapors rung a hollow, low noise, dropping to form a mist. It floated, then stirred, reforming as small bumps and molehills of ice. He noted with shock that a miniature of Canterlot was sculpted into one of them. "And that... is where Equestrian history divides from ours. The land known as Equestria is native to the changeling. No mention in their version will tell you that changelings even existed. Such is the nature of the victor to rewrite it in favor of themselves. As the second half goes..."



But She could only hold fast against the wind
We watched as she lasted, her strength growing smaller every passing day
She raised her head on the final day and said:
'Dear little ones, I cannot hold forever, be what it may..."

Your Queen knows that the Winter Winds strip the will to Love
But the Earth below does not know it's chill
Find refuge there, my little ones, find peace
Let my Love for you last, rooted within my Will.

We watched as She fell, and wept for a Year
We watched as the ponies drove Him away, and cheered for a Decade
We felt their rejection of us, and snarled for a Century
We know that we're alone now, so we'll rebuild what we made,

We're trapped in the earth, kin to the Night.
While He was driven North, successfully raving
But without somepony to lead Us, a star in our Sky
We no longer knew Love, only it's craving.



She paused longer this time, eyes closed in reverence. "...She could only hold fast against Djiingoh's unrelenting attack. Her final words tell her children to 'find refuge under the Earth'... which is undoubtedly why our race has lived in caves for a millennia. That model of self-sacrifice is what forms the central doctrine of Queenhood in the hive.
"And there you have it. Changelings, scorned by the foreign ponies, remained underground at Changeré's insistence. Her absence had cost us dearly... her ability to emanate the pure force of Love had an adverse effect on the race when it disappeared. Instead of knowing Love, we craved it endlessly... while Djiingoh raves of his success in the North. It is said that he still visits the site of his triumph every year, bringing with him Winter to Equestria. Cloudsdale brings Winter to Equestria nowadays, but very few ponies will recall that it is in solemn remembrance of what they once were. And invented was Hearth's Warming to mar that reality. The result is the same..."
She sighed, the low temperature catching her breath into a cloud.
"I'm terribly sorry to have taken so long, these things require a little... dramatic effect, don't you think? An apocryphal tale or two says that this craving gave us the power to assume other, living forms. Likewise, hate is said to make a pony's true intentions transparent as ice, as cold as the depths of Winter. Windigos are the embodiment of hate, which is why I have pursued them... they can manipulate ice, drift in the winds as nature itself. They can become the forces of nature, unrelenting and unforgiving at times.
"But I found a way to rejoin windigo and changeling. A new step for our race, or perhaps a regression? But we... I can absorb hate as well as love now. Every member of my army, from new recruit to high commander, received a powdered concentration of my new, mixed-race magic to ingest. The powers of ice, and transformations of natural origin, are now open to us all... but something curious happens when it is given to a non-changeling. As Celestia and soon Luna will have already learned... I can control them from the shadows. And with them as my puppets, I effectively say when night comes and day begins. I say what wars are worth waging, and what ponies are worth sparing.
"Such impressive power... I intend to take back the birth home of the changeling race with it. To give my subjects the right to bask in the sun, to walk on the land instead of under it for the first time in a dozen millennia. This was always the highest goal of each successive ruler, but now I am close enough to taste it. An eon of struggle, of rejection, because of who we are and what we believe is just."
She paused and put a hoof to her head as she sat back down on her throne. "Now do you see? Why I have chosen this path? Surely you can sympathize... I only do my utmost to bring justice and peace for my subjects, as any noble leader would... in the face of constant rejection, we return the favor."

Pennaprose said nothing, but his thoughts flew past him faster than Dash could ever even attempt. He stared at Lyra, who's expression was deadened in the green and yellow glow of the crystal light, and realized a single thing.

"Chrysalis... you are more than just a ruler of your race," he began. "Admirable, to be sure... but for every being that basks in the sun, there is always a shadow cast somewhere. Where would it fall, if you led the land above? The ponies of Equestria would fall victim, creating a new race of creatures that hide, shunned into the night... history would repeat itself."
He stepped forwards, towards Lyra, blade tucked behind him. "Earth, unicorn, alicorn, pegasus... dragon, griffon... windigo, changeling... Luna and Celestia, Gosthette and I. The world exists in a fine balance; there must always be one steeped in shadow while the other knows the warmth of sunlight. For gravity brings us to meet the ground whilst the winged are blessed to escape it. Who would truly know the ground if the pegasai did not show what to look up to?
"It is natural for the Lesser to dream of the Upper. For the Upper to be unknowing of the struggles of the Lesser. Because the mere definition of the number one implies that there is always a second. Does this mean we should fight constantly for who should get to enjoy the best in life? That nature itself deems that as Winter gives way to Spring, to swelter into Summer and fade into Autumn, always to begin again... but we stand with nature, the living beings that give meaning to this world by our gift of intelligence."
He stopped in front of Lyra. Though her face remained unmoved, he could see a stirring in her neon blue eyes, streaking slightly with bits of gold.
"Would it be so simple? That the past give way to the future with every passing second, yet both give us reason. The future, for progress of our intelligence... and the past, for the progress of our wisdom. I choose to live for that past, and love for that future. But I also choose to learn for the present, a gift unto itself."
He put a single hoof around Lyra's shoulder and pulled her into a hug, eyes silently streaming with tears. He whispered, not intending for Chrysalis to explicitly hear. "Lyra... let me stand in your shadow. Let me be your past, your future, and grant me the strength and wisdom to learn, live, and love for you... Of this, I ask... if you can hear me underneath this curse... please...?"
He closed his eyes, letting the chill for her changeling body embrace his own. There was a silence that amplified the sounds of low humming from somewhere in the chamber. It was broken by a slow tapping above them.
"Well, well, well... you have a knack for debate, Pennaprose. Or dare I say, a knack for prose... Hah! Hahahahaha...! Ah... haha... ha..."
He broken away from his hug just enough to look up at Chrysalis. She was off her throne, tapping a hoof against the edge of the arena above them.
"You know, I so do cherish these kinds of sweet moments in my novels... in fact, I'm so moved that I think I'll actually let you have Lyra back! Though I feel I must... write my own ending to this tale. Something grand and worthy of your resolve, something... heheh..."
She vaporized into snow, reforming on the opposite end of the room. There, she stood framed by the only exit, clad in pristine ice armor and wielding a pair of blades. One was an imposing broadsword that had most of its inner material carved out, the other a snake-like blade with an elaborate cross guard. They were both pitch black and gold. "This is my final offer of any kind, Pennaprose. I know of your attachments to Ponyville and the wielders of the Elements of Harmony. But with this rather forgettable pony wrapped in the chill of obscurity you've chosen to pursue... it makes me wonder."
She plunged both swords in the ground with her magic in a cross formation. A thick layer of ice swept across the chamber, completely cutting off the upper stands, exit, and holding cell. They were effectively inside an ice bubble.
"You have two choices," she began, drawing the broadsword from the ice and flourishing it. A wave of ice spread lengthwise forming an ice sculpture in the resemblance of Lyra, pristinely cut and formed. "I will let you leave and live with the rest of the ponies... except Lyra," she said as she suddenly swung the broadsword dangerously close to the sculptures' neck. "I will free her from being a changeling, but she will not be allowed to leave the hive. She is already accustomed to the darkness of this world, as you put it... so it shouldn't matter. I'll even let you speak your piece to her after the reversion. My plans to rebuild Equestria as a haven for my race will continue either way, while you and your friends are perfectly free to oppose me on the true battlefield, however futile it may be..."
She drew the snake-like blade from the ice second, sending a wave of ice along its edge. It formed a mirror of pure ice, impossibly reflective; he saw himself and Lyra in it, his mane covered in a layer of frost.
"The other choice is that I just let the others go and do as they please now... while you and Lyra remain here. You will stay a normal pony until the time comes for you and Gosthette to leave for the human realm, and Lyra shall go free into Equestria proper after the fact. She will not return to being a normal pony until after you've left, however. She will not remember the events after she became a changeling, least of all anything you've said—or professed—tonight."
"You're being quite generous with freedom, aren't you...?" said Pennaprose in a deadpan tone. "There is more."
Her eyes narrowed as she began to chuckle, letting the snake sword cross over the reflection of his neck in the mirror. "Clever, aren't you...? We battle to the death this time. The second choice is the outcome if you live... should you fail to defend your life or hers... well then, I will simply be freed of a pesky obstacle. I will still let Lyra go, from the bonds of the hive and changelingdom, but Gosthette will be thoroughly brainwashed into forgetting her human past, and I will end up with more raw force to take over Equestria's outlying borders under the guise of Celestia's command, my changeling army disguised as hers. The lands beyond this one will see Celestia's warmongering, breaking trust between them that she had spent so much effort to build up.
"It matters not your choice to me. You cannot stop me, in battle alone or with your friends. And I can only gain. What is your answer...?"
He turned completely, standing between Chrysalis and Lyra exactly. He drew his gifted blade and threw it like a dagger towards her without hesitation; she blocked it effortlessly, letting it embed itself into the side of the ice replica of Lyra.
"I don't give a right-wing damn about the appearance of Equestria on a national scale, or even returning to the human world by this point. Fuck off."
She snarled in response, bringing both swords to bear in front of her. "Fine... be it your own funeral that you've chosen, this icy grave will grip you in life and in death. Prepare yourself."
She charged forward, ready to strike. He knew throwing his only means to fight meant a death wish, but he no longer cared. He lowered his gaze, waiting for the taste of steel to come. This was the only outcome of three possible that he was at peace with.
You deserve the warmth of sunlight, Lyra. Be free, my Light, be warm... Whether or not I am there to share it with you...

He closed his eyes.