Chrysalis

by Horsetorian

Chapter 4- Cadance

It was many years before I met the fourth one of my kind. Cadance too had both flight and magic, but when I met her she already knew most of what she’d need to know of either.

By the time I’d met her, I had already heard the rumors of another allicorn. As usual, a few questions about succession and even a whisper of overthrow could be heard throughout the land, but these were murmurings best left alone.

After a few months I had an opportunity to meet with her myself. Amidst the bustle of yet another Summer Sun Celebration, I spotted the pink pony. We spoke for only a few minutes, and while she was amiable enough she hardly seemed like anything one would expect from an Allicorn. On a whim, I invited her to come to Canterlot and become my first student in decades. Flattered, she came to live at the castle.

Cadance never learned very much from me. While one could easily assume her birth granted her fantastic ability to begin with, she was no prodigy. It didn’t take long to realize she’d already learned about as much as she ever would. Her cutie mark had already designated her place in life. While she would never raise the sun (much to the disappointment of a handful of treasonous minds) her magic was of a somewhat unique nature.

A pony could hardly talk to Cadance without liking her. Her unfailing cheer and friendliness would border on obnoxious were it not so sincere and well-communicated. Merely talking to her was a comfort. Cadance knew what to say and almost always left those she talked to feeling loved.

She was always quick to pick up on slight expressions and correct any harsh feelings. In fact, Cadance struggled with any sort of negative emotion. Fear, anger, even mild irritation was painful for her to experience or even watch.

As her awareness of the ponies around her grew, crowds became increasingly difficult to handle. While she could usually quiet distress immediately surrounding her, she found it difficult to tolerate a squabble that happened to be a stone’s toss away.

Once, when she was young, Cadance found herself adjacent to an intense quarrel. Neither pony stopped yelling except for the occasional sharp inhalation of air, which was naturally consumed with continued yelling.

At first, Cadance tried to break the two apart. She gently tried to pull one or the other away, tugging lightly or talking softly. Neither did much good, and the fight continued. She tried yelling herself, but could hardly match their impressive volume. After a few agonizing minutes, she merely caved in, kneeling on the ground and more distraught than either of the participants. It never occurred to Cadance that she could merely walk away; her duty had always been to create harmony among those around her.

Finally, Cadance stood up. She struggled for a moment, and the tip of her horn sparkled faintly. Silence followed.

The speakers hesitated, looking at one another, abashed. They thanked Cadance, stumbling a little, and walked away together. It was only when she arrived home that Cadance realized she had earned her cutie-mark.

From then on, Cadance could quiet disputes with her words and with her magic. Cadance’s place in the world was in restoring love and harmony.

An observer may confuse Cadance’s skill with a clever sort of manipulation, meant to create false feelings of love and fondness. Much the opposite of a petty deception, Cadance’s talent was in reminding, in helping people recall feelings and emotions for each other that were often held at bay as inconvenient or childish. A fight between siblings was easily ended with a reminder of their common childhood and care for each other. A squabble between friends could end in remembrance of how their friendship had started.

There were, nevertheless, some ponies which recalled more bitterness and sadness than kindness or caring. Usually, Cadance’s magic ended whatever harsh emotions the ponies had for one another, temporarily filling them with poignant shame for the bile that filled them. Each side would apologize and part ways, sometimes for moments and often for years. A few particularly furious individuals might continue fighting after the spell, but with less fervor or certainty.

And yet, for all her skill in making and helping friends, Cadance seemed to have few close friends. She rarely understood another pony’s life or could appreciate its complexities, and few seemed to appreciate the depth of her character. While her relationships were never superficial, they rarely possessed much depth either.

This suited Cadance. Save for a couple dear friends, she didn’t require an intricate or overly personal relationship with anypony. Her numerous friends asked little more of her than love, and she took pleasure in the happiness she provided and the love that was returned. It was a simple, symbiotic sort of relationship in which happiness radiated from Cadance and benefited numerous citizens.

In effect, Cadance fed on-- and provided-- love.

Today, Luna finally paced the halls of her kingdom again. Her homecoming had been warm enough among the citizens and in the streets, but her own home seemed foreign to her. The palace was nearly untouched, save the occasional dusting, yet she seemed to walk uneasily, peering down hallways with great curiosity yet advancing slowly, perhaps even fearfully. It was almost comically fitting, that she should return in the body of a filly and peer as though she were one.

Leaving the bustle of crowds and the watchful eyes of guards, we paced slowly to our chambers. The century old paintings failed to catch her attention and the decor seemed of little interest, but every dark room or closed door, every hint of movement had her staring unabashedly. Her focus was enough to make the handful of cleaners jumpy, though she continued to look just the same.

Since entering the palace, neither of us had spoken a word. For a moment I’d wondered if she still held some small bitterness towards me, a grudge that had survived even the elements, or had arrived after their use. I could hardly hold her anger against her, and was content to let her speak her mind as she chose.

As the steady sound of eight hooves on tile continued, I realized it was no harsh feelings towards me that quieted her. She was distracted, even agitated, something she had attempted to hide among the hordes of citizens. It was not petty fury, nor discomfort at the prospect of returning to her kind after a hundred years.

I glanced down at her. Stranger even than her shrunken size was her shadow. It was now almost plain, a small outline as dark as anypony’s shadow. In a few moments, I realized what had changed. She was no longer plagued by her minions. A few of her most loyal had followed her to the moon and had even returned with her, clinging to her, even her very heart and mind, as a cold sort of protection, an armor from emotion. Even those had apparently left her in the cleansing; her shadow was little more than a dimming of the light.

As we rounded the last corner to our chambers, Luna stopped. Outside my chambers stood Cadance, pleased to see us. She’d known Luna was coming, and was probably even prepared with a warm welcome. She opened her mouth, but Luna’s blank stare made her falter. She stopped, confused.

Luna merely continued to examine Cadance. Her expression broke just enough to glimpse pain mingled with burning curiosity. Eventually, with some effort, she spoke.

“Where is she?”