Chapter 1
It was just before sunrise, and Luna was tired. Her hooves were dragging slowly, a hoof rising to wipe the last bits of sleep from her eyes. As she walked down a hall of the castle, she wondered aloud of what her sister deemed so important, when she could be sleeping or at least reading the rest of the chapter of a good book. She looked to the side where a pair of guards stood straight like statues, and chuckled. They were all the same to her; so rigid, so strict to the rules.
“Princess!”
They saluted, their bodies still rigid. She smiled slightly, and with another chuckle stated, “At ease.”
They relaxed, but only slightly. Luna sighed and once again began navigating the labyrinth corridors of the castle towards her sister’s room. Even moving from one tower to another in Canterlot Castle was a daunting affair for anypony without a detailed map or a few decades worth of personal experience. Under her breath, she continued chanting emptily...something about Celestia, something about needing her morning coffee...Luna was too irritated to keep her thoughts in any particular order.
The darkling abyss of her most beautiful midnight skies had already started glowing with the faint traces of what would be the sunrise’s burning blaze in several hours, but even with the flickering promise of morning light, the corridors were heavy in lingering midnight shadows.
Luna strode forwards, doing her best to appear purposeful but she wondered what her purpose entailed She bounded around one of the countless shadowed curves of the castle, but was immediately greeted not with further darkness but instead a surprised yelp and a flourish of papers.
“Oh my!” Luna said with a chuckle. She had been so engrossed in her own musings that she had not even been paying attention to the darkness around the corner she had just turned through, and had collided directly with a prim earth pony, sending her many parchments flying upwards like fireworks.
“Princess Luna! Oh, I am so sorry!” she squeaked, falling to the floor in a bow before Luna in a Manehattan minute.
“It’s quite alright, dear.” Luna smiled, lifting the fallen papers up in her magic and holding them before the stunned mare. This pony was familiar. Luna had seen her around the castle and during some of Celestia’s gruelling Day Court sessions. A secretary, or courtier of some sorts, but that was not the title Luna was searching for.
Eventually, the proper one came to her.
“Raven, is it?” she asked, giving the papers a gentle snap so that the mare would finally take the hint and retrieve them.
“Yes, Your Majesty! Again, sorry—”
“A complete accident,” Luna shook her head. “Think nothing of it. You’re working quite early, Raven.”
“Just dropping off a few things to Princess Celestia’s desk before I leave for Ponyville,” Raven said. She had calmed down enough to form a weary smile, but Luna still saw the traces of intimidation on this poor mare’s face. “You’re—ah...you’re up early yourself.”
“Yes, by my sister’s request,” Luna nodded. Raven had said it with curiosity, and Luna had repeated the sentiment while making her own irritation quite clear. “You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”
Celestia spoke often of Raven, echoing humorous little anecdotes that they had shared during lulls in Day Court or mentioning some incredible bureaucratic feat that Luna feigned interest in. She had been serving Celestia for quite some time and Luna was under the impression the two had become close friends, or at least as close friends as a princess and courtier could be.
“Hm.” Raven brought a hoof to her chin. She carried with her a strange mixture of youthful playfulness and experienced wisdom. “Sorry, Your Majesty. Can’t seem to recall her saying anything to me. Not like Princess Celestia to forget something though—”
Raven riffled through her countless documents, as if expecting the answer to be within one of them. Luna chuckled and stopped her with a raised hoof.
“Not like you to do so, either. I’m sure it’s a recent development.”
“An important one, it seems,” Raven nodded. “One that couldn’t wait until morning.”
“Believe me, it very well better be!” Luna exclaimed with mirthful bitterness, earning a chuckle from Raven. “Thank you, dear. I suppose I’ll ask her myself. Enjoy your trip to Ponyville.”
“Have a good morning, Your Majesty!”
Raven left with a smile, and Luna carried forwards through the castle wearing a subtle one as well. Surely Raven was right. Celestia would not bother her with some trivial matter, nor would she forget one that suddenly needed action. Whatever purpose she was needed for, Luna decided bitter, under-the-breath remarks should be held until she knew precisely the reason.
When Luna finally reached her sister’s room, the promises of some distant glorious sunrise were already lingering on the brightening morning sky. Luna extended a hoof to the door as if to knock, but Celestia’s singsong voice rung out before she even made contact with the heavy mahogany door.
“Come in, Lulu!”
Luna pushed the door forwards with her magic, creeping into Celestia’s room as if it were some haunted house.
“Luna, good morning!” Celestia called, her magic brushing against Luna’s as she herself grasped the door and opened it further. Her room was as posh and proper as it had ever been, a tidily made and surprisingly humble bed in one corner, a tall bookshelf in another. Celestia’s room was little else but a simple reflection of the calm and collected mare who resided within.
Of course, Celestia’s desk was the exception; parchments, maps, and charts were unfurled in no particular order. despite her efforts, Luna could not make out what territory they were depicting from her position hovering in the threshold between the causeway and bedroom.
“Sorry to wake you so early,” Celestia said, inviting Luna in with a smile. “But it’s a matter of importance.”
“I presumed so. And hoped for your sake it was,” Luna said with a grin. Celestia returned the joke with a smile, but Luna was startled to see some greater fear prevent the smile from possessing any measure of joy.
“It’s about the changelings,” Celestia said. She spoke firmly and quickly, wasting very little time as she immediately leaped forwards. “Recently I’ve been in...ah, correspondence...with their Queen.”
Luna tensed in realization.
“Frankly, Luna, they are desperate. I’ve offered my help, but they have no intentions of speaking with me. Instead, their Queen has requested specifically for you.”
“Me?” Luna repeated bluntly, vainly hoping to find refuge in feigning foolishness.
“Not only that, she was keen that it be swiftly,” Celestia continued. “‘Before I change my mind,’ I believe she said.”
Luna grimaced. Any doubt about what “Queen” Celestia was referring to was shattered in an instant.
"I remember before those thousand years, you had a friend in the changelings. Please Lulu as I said they won't speak to me but they'll speak to you."
Luna sighed deeply and closed her eyes. “ I—I can’t even imagine why Chrissy would want to talk with me, after all these years.”
“Chrissy…” Celestia repeated with a tilt of her head, for but a moment, before the nickname registered and she narrowed her eyes. “You never told me your friend was…her.”
Luna shifted uncomfortably next to her sister. She let out another sigh and stated honestly, “You never would have approved.”
“She tried to take over Canterlot!” Celestia said, feeling her emotions leaning towards a breaking point.
“Because she was desperate! See, this is why they won’t talk to you.Tia...you won’t let go of the past.”
Celestia heaved a sigh, a deep frown set on her face before she nodded and looked towards Luna. “Maybe you’re right Lulu. I have been holding onto the past, but this is why I need your help, dear sister.”
“Tia…” Luna began, bringing her gaze upwards from the plush carpet to meet her sister’s eyes and instantly regretted it. She groaned and swiftly looked away from Celestia’s wide, pouting eyes.
“Seriously Tia,” Luna exhaled heavily. “Just because I had a connection with the current Queen of the Changelings doesn't mean it still exists.”
Celestia smiled, although it was not without the distant traces of doubt lining its weary edges.
“It takes a little more than time to kill a friendship, Luna. And if that is truly what you had with Queen Chrysalis…”
Celestia trailed off, but Luna understood all the same. Chrysalis may have been an enemy to Equestria in times past, but in times even earlier she had been a friend, too. If they could restore that relationship once again.
“As usual, your wisdom on friendship is unparalleled,” Luna conceded with a heavy sigh. She wasn’t even sure whether she’d intended her remark to be sarcastic or not. “Fine. I’ll go. But it’s strictly diplomatic.”
“I’d intend it to be nothing more or less,” Celestia nodded. “You’re the best advocate for peace, Luna. You’re closer to Queen Chrysalis than anypony else.”
“What happened?” Luna said sadly. It was a question she had asked many times since the invasion, and never had she been satisfied with the answer history books or her sister had provided her. “She was never on strong terms with us politically...but never before would she try to invade us.”
“I do not fully know,” Celestia started; yet another echo of the same explanation she had always given Luna. One that made enough sense to fill the political gaps but not enough to explain the cruel turn that a mare Luna had once called “friend” had taken.
“When you—when Nightmare Moon was banished, she became estranged. I held communications with the changelings through letters, but as every year passed, their correspondence slowly ground to a halt. Before the first century was past, I recieved no replies and eventually did not bother sending letters into the void the Changeling Empire had seemingly become.”
“You should have tried at least speaking with Chrysalis!” Luna stomped a hoof on Celestia’s floor, the forcible vibrations causing some stray bottle of perfume atop Celestia’s vanity to dance wildly but not fall. “She would have listened!”
“I—I did,” Celestia was proceeding slowly now, cautiously. Luna could see the uncertainty in her sister’s face as she clawed backwards through time to bring forth regretful memories of times better left unturned. “She...asked about you. Why you never returned, why all the letters she received were from me and not you. I tried to explain, but—she didn’t understand.”
“I’m—” Luna was speechless, managing to force out a few stuttering syllables at best. “She—”
“I tried, Luna. I suppose I could have tried harder. I’m sorry.”
“I am too. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything.”
“You had every right to. I know this is difficult for you, sis.”
Luna closed her eyes and nodded slowly. In the darkness she felt something warm and soft descend on her back. When she opened her eyes, she saw Celestia’s wing resting there, her sister giving her an uneasy smile. Luna felt comfort in its shy, uncomfortable midst.
“Do you really think I can do this?” Luna asked, gazing intently into her sister’s wide eyes with a pleading expression of her own.
“Of course I do, Luna. You’re her friend. Friends understand.”
“I don’t know if she’ll even want to speak to me!” Luna brushed Celestia’s wing off her back and gave her own a frustrated flare. “How could she speak to me after what I’ve done to her?”
“Friends forgive each other, Luna,” Celestia cooed softly. “If you don’t wish to go, I fully understand. I can go in your stead. But Chrysalis is your friend.”
“You’re right.” Luna turned back to face her sister, who was staring at her own hooves. “I’ll go.”
“Thank you, Luna,” Celestia said. “I know that she’ll listen to you. This will be good—for changelings and ponies—and for you.”
The world below passed in a blur of blended greys and blacks; a rain soaked wasteland without a breath of life. Had it not been for the painted blue pine of her chariot and the warm orange glow of the lanterns clattering against its side, Luna would have had no trouble believing Discord had suddenly had the urge to remove the world’s colours for a few hours and flood them into a solemn monochromatic daguerreotype. It was almost with regretful sadness that Luna knew this was not the case.
No, there was no chaos-magic-trickery in what Luna saw as she leaned over the polished white trim of the chariot’s edge. The land was simply void of colour. Ragged, straggly trees struggled from the charcoal dirt, alive but only barely so with the pouring rain mercilessly beating the few insect-wing-leaves growing from their wispy branches. It was a land befitting the harsh names given to it by cartographers. The Badlands indeed.
They were descending...Luna had been watching with somber thoughtfulness as they had left the last murky clouds above, and the cracked wastelands fade into legibility from beyond the veil of pouring rain.
They had been flying over these grey wastelands for what must have been a long time. Checkpoints one, two, and three had all been left behind, and at each her chariot had been fervently inspected for defects or signs of intrusion as they flew further and further into the forbidden territories. It seemed a folly pursuit to Luna...any changeling with motivation to brave the lonely plains to reach Equestria would succumb to exhaustion long before reaching even the final fourth checkpoint.
If Luna strained her eyes, she could see this final checkpoint approaching; or rather, she could see the long streak of its lighthouse beam sweeping across the descending shelves of rain. She watched with eager anticipation as this last hurdle approached, as guard towers and barbed electric fences formed from blurred lines, and the steady green glow of magic inhibitor shields began finally offering a contrast to the dreary greys.
This was it. Checkpoint four. The final barrier before she was officially in the Changeling Empire. Harsh spotlights from below were trained on Luna’s chariot, as it flew resolutely onwards like a moth drawn to flame.
Checkpoint four, like the three that had come before it, was really no more than a towering lighthouse surrounded by a square of tall barbed fence. This square, however, was split halfway through the middle, by yet another electric fence, changelings milling about like ants on one side and ponies doing the same on the other. From so high up, Luna could see no difference between races or cultures.
At this point of division—with ponies and changelings no more than specks of scuttling life atop this approaching point far below—they were all quite the same.
“We’re descending upon Checkpoint four,” one of the guards pulling her chariot announced. “On the other side, we are officially in changeling territory.”
“We’ve been in changeling territory since we left the last signs of life behind,” Luna said solemnly.
The guards had no response, and Luna had not been expecting one. Whatever they had thought of the depressing sights they had flown over, Luna would never know, although she could not think of anypony who could look across these wastelands and not feel the terrible emptiness such a lack of life could bring forth.
She’d long since thought she had grown used to the sight of lifeless plains of uninterrupted solitude. She felt comforted to know she was wrong, and sickened to know such despair existed on Equestria, too.
When the chariot finally made contact with the blackened dirt, it did so with a heavy lurch and no measure of grace. Nevertheless, Luna was off the bright red velvet cushioned seat and on her hooves in a moment. They had not landed on the pony’s side of the checkpoint, but rather the changeling side.
Behind her, guards had rushed to the fence to watch Luna approach their changeling neighbors. Her own guards had shuffled out of their harnesses and had taken assertive stances before Luna, sharpened spears already withdrawn and extended forwards.
In juxtaposing contrast to Luna’s arrival—one amidst a flourish of clattering armor and extended weaponry—the changeling Queen herself strode forwards alone, her changelings standing some distance behind her but not daring follow as she approached the Princess of the Night.
“Princess Luna…” Queen Chrysalis said. Luna wasn’t sure if it was intended to be a greeting, or some bitter accusation. Chrysalis was wearing an expression of smug contemptness and pride…and what looked to Luna like bitter, carefully concealed judgement. “Have you brought with you some notice of surrender for me to sign? Or are your intentions even more straightforward?”
“My intentions are for peace, Chrysalis,” Luna fought to keep her voice firm as she felt emotion swell from within her. Chrysalis...her friend for so many years...implying such violence between them. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Is that what Princess Celestia told you to say?” Chrysalis retorted. “And at least grant me the courtesy of my proper title, Princess Luna.”
A deep frown contorted Luna's expression, drawing eyes away from the single tear that trickled down her cheek. It was as if their once fervent friendship had never even existed to the queen of the changelings. In that one bitter glare, Luna felt as though their friendship had ended a thousand times. “What I say is not adjudicated by my sister… Queen Chrysalis, I am an equal to my sister, neither less nor greater than her.”
Chrysalis sneered, and in an almost taunting voice she spoke, “Are you really so positive about that?”
“Yes I am, just like I am positive you weren't always this...cruel.”
“If you knew what I went through…” Chrysalis snarled, “What your precious sister made me become!”
“Nopony made you try to invade Canterlot, Queen Chrysalis! Nopony asked you to distance yourself—”
“Spare me your lecture, oh Princess of Eternal Night!” Chrysalis returned, cutting Luna’s remark short. “I can’t expect you to understand.”
“Chrysalis...that’s all in the past. My sister has forgiven me, Equestria has forgiven me. And I’m here because we are all prepared to forgive you, too.”
“Forgive me?” Chrysalis batted her eyes innocently. “For what exactly? Protecting my kind from extinction? I can’t believe you seriously think I’m the one who needs to be forgiven. And it’s Queen Chrysalis, you traitor!”
“My sister told me—”
“I don’t care what that witch told you!” Chrysalis barked, bringing hooves down onto the charred dirt. Luna’s guards flinched behind her, but she herself did not so much as blink as the impact resounded across the plains and sent spindly cracks across the delicate ground.
“And I don’t care what you have to tell me either!” Chrysalis added sharply.
“Then why did you agree to meet me?!” Luna screamed back with sudden hostility. Her eyes had once more begun to water, but Luna was unsure whether sadness was the cause this time. It very well could have simply been the pouring rain. “Why bother? Your race is dying, we offer to help, you accept, only to turn us down?”
“I wanted to tell it to you. Not through letters, as your sister was so fond. I wanted to see the face of the mare who left me, and had the nerve to call me a friend before doing so. I’m glad to see that face has remained unchanged.”
“I’m...sorry that the mare behind it has changed. And I’m sorry the mare who I called a friend has, too. I’m sorry about everything, Chrys...Queen Chrysalis.”
Chrysalis was silent. Luna looked up to finally meet the changeling Queen’s eyes, and Chrysalis was quick to divert her own gaze someplace else. Luna did her best to try to read her expression, but even without an inkling of magic Chrysalis was a master of deceit and disguise.
Across the bridge of silence, Luna took another wary step closer.
“You act like you were the only one hurt by this. You weren’t. Do you know what it was like for me, looking up at the tiny blue speck hanging above me on the cold surface of the moon? Do you know what I was thinking of?”
Chrysalis remained silent, although she finally turned her expressionless gaze back to meet Luna’s pleading eyes.
“You. I was thinking of you, Chrysalis.”
The two locked eyes unblinkingly, for several eternal moments. Then, hanging her head back and howling upwards at the rain pattering against her face, Chrysalis erupted in laughter.
“Oh, Luna! Damn you, Luna!” she howled, once she had composed herself enough to form a sentence through her hysterics. “I hate you, you know that?”
Luna blinked, and said nothing.
“Alright. You win,” Chrysalis said, with a fang-filled grin. “Get in your prissy royal chariot, Princess Luna. My changelings will lead the way.”
“We’re...we’re negotiating?” Luna asked dumbly.
“We’re talking. That’s it. And not in the pouring rain.”
A thousand years had turned since she had last set hoof in the Changeling Empire proper. Sometimes, they had passed like moments to Luna. Other times, they seemed to have stretched into eternity.
And yet, with so many years between when she had last been in the Changeling Empire, Luna truly was shocked by how little some things had changed.
It would perhaps have been simpler for the common pony to comprehend if the underground cavern Chrysalis called her kingdom’s capital was some hideous lair of slime and malice. If Luna were in the Canterlot Galleries, leafing through foolish artist’s renditions of what they believed the Changeling Empire to look like, she perhaps would have seen such portrayals.
The shocking reality, however, was that the Changeling Empire was in many ways one of the most beautiful places Luna had beheld. It carried its beauty humbly. Indeed, it was beauty of the most alien kind, like some impressionist abstract painting in which the sun and sky and sprawling landscapes carried no natural array of colours, and yet flowed beautifully together nonetheless.
The walls glowed with phosperant light, when Luna peered up at the tall ceiling of the underground changeling hive, it was like she was looking at her night sky set out on display with pride and humility. A thousand stars of pulsating crystallized slime, fashioned like lanterns, splaying their purplish-green light across the walls carved with precision.
The changelings, in their underground habitat, made up for the lack of light and colour with these magnificent crystallized slime figures; they lined the walls and ceiling and floors, some as stalactites, others like lanterns or tiny glowing moons. The changelings were never content letting the slime they produced fall into simple usefulness. Even amongst so much desperation and fear, the species seemed intent on filling their humble home with as much beauty as they could muster.
When Chrysalis turned to see a silly smile plastered on Luna’s face, she snorted loudly in derision.
“Beautiful sight, you think? I should take you to the feeding chambers, Princess Luna. I’m sure you’ll be breath-taken by the strifling beauty of a thousand starving changelings.”
“Sorry,” Luna said simply, muttering nothing further.
When she gazed around the immense cavern, tracing the smooth walls and various passageways snaking their ways to other places of the hive, Luna quickly realized that something was wrong. The cavern was deserted. Other than her and Chrysalis’s heavy hooves beating against the stone, and the accompanying symphony of echoes resounding across the cavern, there were no signs of life elsewhere.
For some time, neither mare spoke, and the lonely sound of their hoofbeats only served to fuel Luna’s doubting thoughts. If Chrysalis would have at least spoken...even if they had been words of criticism and derision, she could have responded. But instead, the Queen’s silence left Luna stranded in the middle of a desert of self-doubt.
Eventually, Luna could stand it no longer.
“The changelings,” she said, “Where are they? I don’t see a soul here. Even the checkpoint had more changelings than here.”
“They’ve moved on,” Chrysalis said simply. “Other hives, or closer to the edges of the badlands in the hopes of finding some nomad settlement to seep love from. They have no reason to stay here and starve. And yet many have anyways.”
“The...feeding chambers…” Luna echoed.
“Indeed. Even I don’t know what’s driving them to continue waiting there. It’s like, against every inkling of logic, they suddenly expect love magic to just start flowing once again.”
Luna said nothing.
“I must admit, I am proud of them,” Chrysalis shrugged and continued speaking when Luna had not. “Their commitment to the hivemind...I thought I’d long ago lost control of it. I suppose with many changelings I have.”
Many years had passed, but Luna remembered Chrysalis’s sentiments on the hivemind clearly. Yet another pony misconception Luna had observed had been the assumption that the changelings were some mindless drone species, obeying what their queen told them without exception, venturing into certain suicide simply if it meant benefiting the hive. It was how ponies explained the battles the changelings had won, the sheer amount of losses just to benefit the queen and the general well-being of the hive. The changelings had no mind to object with.
But Luna knew the truth. And indeed, it was a simple truth.
The changelings were simply braver than the ponies.
The hivemind did not dictate the actions of the changelings. Instead, it merely communicated the will of the queen. A will that, if every changeling wished to disregard, would go unheeded.
As if reading Luna’s mind, Chrysalis next spoke with an air of somberness.
“I...willed them to flee. Told them to find some other colony, and some other queen who didn’t let her changelings die.”
“They didn’t?” Luna asked.
“Some did. Many did. And many didn’t.”
“I’m sorry, Chrysalis,” Luna whispered. The words that left her lips had little volume, but in the bitter silence of the dead caverns, they carried to Chrysalis all the same.
“Other queens?” Luna questioned, after her apology heeded no reaction.
“I don’t know,” Chrysalis sighed. Their walk through the tunnels had slowed to a crawl; they had entered a smaller tunnel that snaked its way into further depths. The beautiful slime gems that had lined the walls were all but gone, Chrysalis illuminated the way with the light of her jagged horn.
Wherever they were next headed, it was clear Chrysalis was in no rush to reach there.
“I know I’m not alone,” she muttered. “There are other colonies out there, I’m sure. I...I hope.”
“Chrysalis, you’re the only changeling colony in Equestria. You always have been.”
“As such, I’d expect better hospitality,” she responded bitterly. “But you’re right. I am alone here. But maybe across the sea there are other colonies.”
“It seems like a suicidal quest to me,” Luna replied.
“That might be, but staying here is suicidal, too,” Chrysalis returned. “No matter what we do, the end result is going to be the same. Extinction.”
“Which is why we want to help you.”
“Don’t act like it’s some righteous act!” Chrysalis snarled, whipping around. “I asked you for help. Accepting to help a species you previously deemed unfit to live isn’t righteous at all. It’s basic decency.”
“Well, for a mare striving for peace, you seem quite keen on shovelling as much blame onto us as you can!” While Luna did not disagree with Chrysalis’s logic, she could not help but be indignant by the changeling’s hypocritical attitude all the same.
“Striving for peace? When was I striving for peace? When did I ever say that?”
“You—you implied it…” Luna countered meekly. She’d done her best to sound firm, but it still seemed more like a question than a statement to her.
Chrysalis snorted loudly in derision.
“I implied it? ‘Stop killing my species’ isn’t the same thing as ‘let’s all be friends and have tea,’” Chrysalis retorted. “Frankly, I couldn’t care less about you ponies. Not after what you’ve done to me.”
“And what that might be?” Luna snapped with sudden intensity.
She knew the moment the words left her tongue that it had been a mistake.
“Wh...what might that be?!” Chrysalis did not so much as speak the question, as she shrieked it. “You took everything from me, and you have the nerve to act oblivious? You stole from me the one chance I had to save my changelings, you banished us to these wastelands and set up your checkpoints to prevent us from fleeing, and then you sweep in when we’re on the verge of extinction and expect me to act like you’re a hero? You and your sister are monsters.”
Ahead, the narrow passageway Chrysalis was leading the way through seemed to be widening. Luna could see more traces of the phosperant slime lighting this section, too, and Chrysalis let the light from her horn die away.
It was a strange gesture, Luna thought, for the caverns were still largely dark. And then, the bitter realization struck her. Chrysalis was conserving her magic, as though every ounce of it were some resources to be coveted like a flask of water in some cruel desert.
Now aware, Luna thought she could even see the traces of weariness in Chrysalis’s walk. Too subtle to be a limp, not pronounced even to the closest of observers, and yet Luna thought she could see it all the same.
“Here we are,” Chrysalis announced, motioning upwards with a hoof. “The Feeding Chambers.”
Luna willed her pained gaze in the direction of Chrysalis’s outstretched hoof, taking cautious steps forwards until she had passed the changeling queen and had entered the cavern proper. It was immense, and although it was lit the same as the first one she had entered into, it was lacking in even the most distant traces of beauty that the former had possessed.
It was damp, musty, and the slime secreting from the walls had dried up completely, looking more like mould than the magnificent glowing crystals from before. Water dripped from some point far above, into a lake of black water that lined the floor of this cavern. Sections of rock had crumbled away, the changeling resin that had once given it magnificent form whittled into nothingness by neglect and the omnipresent moisture.
“Get a good look, Luna,” Chrysalis’s voice resounded from behind her, cold and sharp as steel.
The changelings themselves...Luna could see them lining the far-up walls of the cavern, looking more like bats then the insects they were associated with. Indeed, they quite resembled some hibernating, cave dwelling creature from their perch on the damp walls and roof. Were it not for the slow rise and fall of their chests, Luna would have truly believed that they were dead. Thankfully it seemed they weren’t, but their forms were frail and thin that it seemed to Luna to be an impending fate.
“I’m...Chrysalis I’m so sorry…” Luna gasped. Her legs felt weak, her eyes had begun to water. “We did not mean for this to happen. We had no intention of letting such...atrocity take place.”
“Yeah, well, changelings can’t feed on apologies,” Chrysalis had finally paced forwards next to Luna.
“Then accept our offer for peace instead,” Luna turned around from the terrible sight before her, to lock eyes with the despondent changeling queen. “Accept our friendship. I know we’ve done injustices to you, but we are trying to right them.”
“Accept your friendship…” Chrysalis repeated. For one lengthy, beautiful moment, she spoke it almost as though it were a possibility. For one moment, Luna felt hope.
“Please.” Luna said placidly.
“Friendship? Peace? With you? Why should I?!” Chrysalis snarled and looked back at her changelings, “You and your sister are monsters! You can't help us, all you can do is destroy. Isn’t that right? Nightmare Moon.”
Luna stood there stunned. She had some meaningless words about forgiveness on her mind, but had no drive to actually speak them aloud.
“I am Princess Luna,” she said simply instead.
“Princess Luna is Nightmare Moon,” Chrysalis replied through another fang-filled grin. “Once a monster, always a monster.”
Maybe Chrysalis was right…maybe she was a monster.
The ponies had forgiven her, Celestia had forgiven her, but what right did she truly have to be forgiven at all?
Nightmare Moon. Princess Luna. Was there ever a difference?
Luna looked down, her eyes cast elsewhere as a lone tear fell down her cheek.
After seeing what Chrysalis had endured, and what injustice she had done to the changelings...part of her had made an attempt to cling onto what she desperately told herself was the truth: she had done all she could to care for both changelings and ponies; Chrysalis, once her friend, had been the one who had struck against Equestria. She had only been defending her ponies.
What a brainless lie.
She hadn’t even tried to understand. When she returned to Equestria, she had not even tried to reconnect with Chrysalis. Had she been frightened? Had she simply forgotten? In her desperate sorrow, Luna could not even remember.
Her former friend’s judgemental words echoed in her head, not with subtlety, but like war drums.
Nightmare Moon. Monster. Nightmare Moon. Monster.
For a species so specialized in deceit, Chrysalis’s judgement of her was the first honest one Luna had heard in a thousand years.