Edited by Chapter 13 and TuxOKC.
News spread quickly of the impending arrival of the changeling known as Chrysalis. The Crystal Ponies, ever curious of changelings, were still wary. A king had once enslaved them. The scars were still fresh. Would this queen attempt to do the same? Queries were made from worried citizens to the royal court. Tensions were high. Princess Cadence did what she could to diffuse fears. This was a conquering queen making a state visit and she did what she could to assure her frightened subjects this would be the open negotiations for a peace settlement. Reparations were to be made, perhaps even a formal apology. Still, there were whispers of war. What reassurance was there this queen was not merely turning her warlike eyes upon the Crystal Empire?
Preparations for a state visit took time and money. Cadence soon made an announcement, assuring her ponies and with a cheerful voice, proclaimed the Crystal Empire must prepare as though a festival would soon be upon them. Her speech was given from the same balcony she gave all of her speeches to her subjects. The changeling queen was coming offering a laurel of peace, she said to them. War had made her weary and she wished to embark on the path of reconciliation.
“To have Harmony,” she cried during the climax of her speech, “one must first give it!” The resounding cheers made her feel better, but there was still a lot of work to be done.
Rumors of impending war had to be squashed and to the quick. A festival was announced to celebrate the impending peace. It would be a good distraction, even if it had the potential of being misleading. The upcoming event was worrisome for Cadence, but she was determined to show strength in the face of Queen Chrysalis. Her changeling subjects were grateful for this: welcoming a queen seeking peace was considered good manners. Wilda had earlier advised Cadence opening her doors to the queen was a good thing; it would be bad form indeed to turn hostile and attempt an invasion. Changelings did have some form of honor, even if some of it was strange to the pony princess. Cadence decided to be clever and began to send out invites to various nations through their respective embassies.
If Chrysalis dared to attempt anything, there would be witnesses.
The denizens of the Crystal Empire were vaguely aware of a changeling civil war. The ponies turned towards their changeling neighbors. They were inquisitive as well as wary. Was this a queen bent upon conquest? Would their princess defend them? If this was the very changeling queen who had taken Princess Cadence prisoner in the past, why was there an effort to reach out to her now? The more inquisitive of the Crystal Ponies realized this was the birth mother of their very own Prince Reign Cloud.
The city became divided. As more information on this Queen Chrysalis became common knowledge, speculation varied. A hundred different citizens had a hundred different opinions. The Crystal Ponies were not a violent lot, but they were quite animated and vocal in their discussions. The city rippled with nervous tension. The announced festival was welcomed by the changelings. It opened up a lot of discussion in regards to changeling culture. Very little had changed over a thousand years for changelings.
But Cadence, gentle Princess Cadence, used her wisdom, her voice, and her magic to reassure her subjects. She promised to receive the changeling queen with open hooves and a steeled resolve. Peace through love, she promised. Canterlot would send a legion to bolster the princess’ ranks. It would be a show of strength. As much as it gave the citizens some comfort, it also felt as though they were preparing for war.
Celestia was more than happy to assist her niece. She wrote of her concerns, asking if it would help if Canterlot sent a more official presence to show support for the Crystal Empire. Correspondence flew between the two rulers. Luna kept her distance, preferring to watch. Working best under darkness, her methods were subtle. Her agents gathered information in their own ways.
Cadence, in the meantime, kept her doors opened and held public court for three hours a day every day leading up to the night of the queen’s arrival. She was determined to reassure her subjects they were safe and no harm loomed on the horizon for them. As the days passed, the burden she placed upon her shoulders became heavier and heavier.
To her subjects, she seemed unflappable.
A son felt he was forgotten in the chaos. As the city divided, so did his heart.
Princess Cadence, his mother whom he loved dearly, was so calm and beautiful when she spoke to the ponies and changelings who lived under her rule. Behind her, stoic as granite, stood Shining Armor. His imposing form was the force behind his wife’s will. He was an okay sort of fellow, the citizens had decided years ago, if a bit common in his duties. This suited them fine as it made Shining more like them than the nobility which still lurked within the Crystal Empire.
Reign Cloud needed his mother. His own anxieties taxed his patience and understanding. Wilda did what she could, but she was not his mother. The young prince asked time and time again to come home. His requests were always met with “not yet” or “soon”. Reign did his chores and puttered around the flower shop. Beyond his duties, he became withdrawn and sullen. Maggie tried to keep him company, but what did she know? She was just a stupid filly.
Reign Cloud wanted to go home. He refused to eat with the changelings. He was homesick, confused, and felt as though he was being left in the dark. Wilda worried, telling him so in her brusque way. This meant forcibly hauling him from his room, protesting loudly as she carried him by the scruff of his neck with her teeth. After plunking him down in his seat, the broodmother placed a plate of food in front of him.
“Eat, child. You will do yourself no good by pouting like a spoiled foal!” Her tone was firm and brokered no foalishness, but her eyes were filled with worry. Reign had seen it for himself. The dinner table soon became a quiet place, quiet and dreadful.
Outside, a city wondered if a queen would claim it for her own. Inside a house, a colt wondered why his mother would not come and tell him everything was going to be all right. His dreams were filled with sinister dark figures with glowing eyes. Their laughter echoed and voices promised to take him away from everything he loved.
Aunt Luna came once, when his nightmares threatened to consume him. She tried to chase away the shadows, but the colt’s fears only brought them back. She tried to explain to him her responsibilities were not just to one foal. Luna brought him into an embrace of dreams, singing a lullaby in a language that had not been spoken in an age. “Fear not, my nephew,” she whispered in his ear, “for all shadows must pass, as none can survive the light.” Then she was gone, off to do her duties as the Princess of the Night and Watcher of Dreams.
Three days before the visit, Zeala came to visit the flower shop. She bore news of what was going on in the palace. She asked for Prince Reign Cloud, bearing news from Princess Cadence. Reign hated her. The small scar on the tip of her muzzle was the only blemish to her perfect face. He always found himself staring at it whenever he was in the same room with her. Wilda bustled him into the kitchen and reminded him to mind his manners. Her patience with him was running out. Reign promised to be good. Somewhat satisfied, the broodmother put him at the dining room table and sat him in a chair. Then she went and ushered in the priestess. Zeala sat at the opposite side of the table and regarded the colt coolly as she pushed back her hood.
“My prince,” she greeted with a sage nod.
“Lady Zeala,” he returned as best he could without hissing at her. His chair was uncomfortable and he fidgeted his wings.
“Your mother is a bundle of frayed nerves,” Zeala said. Wilda brought tea and served the priestess. The big mare was always a polite hostess. The priestess gave a porcelain smile to Wilda before refocusing on Reign, “She is worried about you. Your behavior as of late has not gone unnoticed.”
Reign bristled, then felt deeply ashamed. He stared at the edge of the table in front of him. His ears flickered towards the sounds of the eavesdroppers in the kitchen. Anger slowly began to rise from within. He hated Zeala. As his mind raced, he lifted his head to look the priestess in the eye. She was sipping her cup of tea, her horn glowing as she held her drink in her telekinetic grasp. The cup tilted and her sip was small and measured. Her throat moved and the cup was placed down. A smirk appeared on her face.
“All this trouble for a battered and scarred shell of a queen,” she noted, arching a brow just enough to be noticed if one looked close enough. “A barren princess, your mother. Both of them. One is unable to conceive and the other can never conceive again. Did you know this?”
Stunned, Reign shook his head, his eyes round. Zeala’s horn continued to glow.
“I’ll have no unwanted ears on this conversation,” the priestess declared loudly. “Control your brood, broodmother!” Her horn flared and Reign could no longer hear anything beyond the dining room. He was ready to bolt from the room. Curiosity and anger held him in place.
“Oh, you poor child,” Zeala cooed as she poured herself another cup. “Your mother is fraught with worry. I know you want to be with her. She wants to be with you. Please, don’t think for a moment she does not think of you. She won’t stop talking about you! But you must understand an empire’s needs far outweigh the needs of an ill-tempered, ill-mannered foundling such as yourself.” She took another sip and swirled her cup as if to speculate. “Indeed, if you would but for a moment put aside your selfishness and think of the subjects that look to your mother for guidance…”
Reign wanted to tell Zeala he wasn’t selfish, that he loved his mother. His anger boiled into guilt and hot tears began to cloud his vision.
“I don’t understand,” Reign said through a quivering bottom lip.
In a motion of blurred shadow, Zeala was beside him, her hoof upon his shoulder. “I suspected as much. I should think this blame should be placed upon the one who birthed you. Her line, as I understand it, has a problem with focus. As a changeling, she is quite a powerful emotivore, perhaps the most powerful one our kind have seen in an age. However, the more powerful an emotivore is, the more susceptible that changeling can be to the intoxication of emotions. This is what made you so physically weak, my prince.”
Reign flinched away from the priestess, “I am not weak!”
“Your body begs to differ,” Zeala noted in a dry tone. “You can’t catch a cold without causing a minor crisis. You can’t go outside for very long. You know this, Prince Reign Cloud. I have spent the last ten years doing my best to keep you healthy enough to give your parents hope. They have had all this time to seek out some answer to what ails you.” She made no move to go after him. Her hoof hung in the air where his shoulder had been before she slowly allowed it to drop. “Then of course, there is that temper of yours.”
The colt could not answer the accusation. It was true. Then again, why was Wilda allowing Zeala to speak to him this way? Where were the guards? “Go away,” he snapped.
She straightened herself, flicking an ear and flaring her nostrils as she inhaled deeply. “My prince, I am responsible for you being alive today. I am responsible for keeping whatever spark of happiness your parents have by keeping you alive. Without me, they would be broken. Mark my words when I say without me, you would be very dead. You owe me much, my prince. You owe me so very much.”
Zeala reached into the folds of her cloak and produced a vial familiar to Reign. She shook it with her magical grasp, showing how little of the clear liquid was left. “It is almost gone, Prince Reign Cloud. What will you do when it is gone? Why has your family not yet found the answer?”
Tense silence filled the room. “I-I don’t know,” he admitted. “They promised me. They promised me there was a cure out there. Aunt Twilight promised me! Aunt Luna and Aunt Celestia, they promised me!”
“Broken promises, my prince,” Zeala said, her words sympathetic. “Useless words because the truth is, they had more important things to worry about than some Halfling.”
She lit her horn, clamping Reign’s mouth shut when he tried to protest in anger. “But I have the cure, my prince. You see, I do care about you. This nation needs you, far more than your young mind can comprehend. I have the cure for you, Reign Cloud. I have it!” Her lips peeled back in a broad smile. Her fangs revealed their full lengths.
Confused, Reign blinked. “What? Cure? You have it?”
“Yes! No more pain. No more weakness. You’ll be able to play with the other nymphs. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To be normal, to be like the other foals? To be able to go outside and play and enjoy the feel of the sun on your pelt? Wouldn’t you like that? I have the answer for you, my prince. I have the cure to that which ails you. However…” Her voice trailed off and she became troubled.
As much as Reign detested the priestess, she now had his full attention. Cautious and distrusting of her, his quavering voice echoed, “However?”
“The magic involved is old, almost forgotten,” Zeala lamented with a sigh. She became resigned, her shoulders rolling into a slump. “Forbidden.” A sudden, placating smile erupted. “Of course, I would never go against the will of Equestria, my prince. After all, what is the life of one mortal compared to the will of a goddess? This magic I speak of is what King Sombra used. It was a part of his legacy and it is the same ancient magic which gave him power. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna would never allow such arts to be used.”
“Why not?”
“They fear it. Why should they want others to know of this magic if they feel threatened by it? All they see is the destructive potential of this magic.” She looked away for a moment, her eyes becoming distant. “I knew him, my prince. I knew King Sombra. He was a strong king. He wanted what was best for his subjects and he wanted his kingdom to be unassailable by his enemies.” Zeala turned her head and tilted it to the side as she regarded Reign with one fixed eye.
“King Sombra was evil!” blurted the colt, flaring his wings. He folded them in, his heart pounding in his chest. A cough seized him. Covering his mouth with his hoof, the event became violent and his chest wracked with sudden pain. Flecks of blood flew from his mouth.
“Yes. He was.” Zeala again moved with blurred swiftness, her hoof at the colts back and rubbing gently. “But he was loved, despite what you have heard in your lessons. He taught me much and I became his student. He was a good teacher. He wanted his magic fostered and spread throughout the land. Those who were weak were to be purged. In their place would be those who would be strong of mind, body, and heart. He understood what he was doing was not popular. Ponies and changelings don’t want to die and that is completely understandable. King Sombra had a vision. It was a grand vision. But the goddesses would not share their power with him.”
Zeala produced another vial from her robes. It was small, the clear glass showing a red liquid inside. “Drink this,” she instructed. “It will help your lungs.”
The colt did as he was told and with the priestess’ assistance. “But my aunts are good ponies,” protested Reign in gasping breaths.
Zeala spat, “Warmongers! They invaded the Crystal Empire with their armies. Do not look at me with such doubting eyes! I was there! I saw everything! I can forgive all those who were misinformed of what happened here. I am not a changeling to cast blame upon those who are ignorant. Celestia and Luna brought war to the doorstep of my king and he responded as any good king should.”
Reign did not believe her.
“Nor should I expect you to understand, child. Your life was expanded by the efforts of King Sombra. I have been hesitant to bring about the rest of the cure.” Zeala pulled back her hoof and adjusted her robes, smoothing them out. “You are the first of your kind since anyling or anypony can remember. You are unique, Prince Reign Cloud. You can be the vessel for enlightened rule, a bridge between changelings and ponies! Do you not know what you represent? Don’t you see how special you are? You will be a unifier, my prince. This is why I offered my help to your mother and father. I can finish what I started and make this disease which has wasted away your body disappear.”
Reign blinked. “The magic you can do is illegal?”
“Yes. It is dark magic, Prince Reign Cloud. I will not lie to you about that. Your mother and father would not understand. They have been made blind to the truth by the falsehoods your aunts have taught them and ponykind. The world has been blinded by the will of immortals, especially Princess Celestia.” Zeala huffed, fixing the colt with a serious look. “You are of the age where foalish thoughts are behind you. You need to be prepared for life as an adult, and that includes hearing things unpleasant to your ears. You must be open minded to the world and all the things that exist within it. You must understand where you fit in the wheel of life.” A smile formed and was warm and welcoming. “A new age is dawning and you could be in the middle of it, a shining beacon to show the way. All you have to do is one thing: accept my help.”
Reign mulled it over. “Can I think on it?” he asked. “Can I talk to Momma and Poppa about it?”
Zeala regarded him before taking in a deep breath. “If you feel you must, then do so. I warn you, they will not understand and they will become frightened. I know you do not trust me, my prince, but I do the things that must be done which the others are too afraid to even consider. I am the High Priestess of Love. Love is my weapon, my strength, my shield. All I do, I do for Love.”
The colt blinked up at her, unsure and very confused. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t like you. I never have. I’ve never trusted you. You’ve never given me reason to trust you. The medicine you give me tastes gross. It always seems like you enjoy seeing me squirm after I take the medicine.” He narrowed his eyes and glared, “I think you hate me. I always have thought you’ve always hated me.”
Zeala jerked her head back. “Hate you? I don’t hate you, my prince. It wounds me to think you believe I take pleasure in your discomfort, your pain. You are my prince and you will be a figure of leadership when you are older. You will rule one day, your own kingdom, with your own crown upon your head. I would see to it. You must understand, my prince, I love you as my prince, just as I love your mother and your father. What will it take for you to trust me? If you wish me to depart from your life, I will do so.”
Reign didn’t know what to say.
“Think on it, my prince. There is time. Know I will be there for you, even when your family believes there is nothing more they can do. If I heal you, then I will become a fugitive. I would sacrifice my life for your health. You are my prince.” Zeala paused, then added in a wistful voice, “King Sombra never had any foals. He would have liked you. Think well on my words, Prince Reign Cloud. I will ever be your faithful servant.”
The priestess rose to her hooves and bowed in deep respect to him, her horn flaring. The room shimmered as the dampening spell was released. Composing herself, she turned towards Wilda, who was wearing a worried frown. “Thank you for the tea, broodmother. It was very excellent. My business here is done. Will you be at the arrival three days from now?”
With a slow nod Wilda replied, “I will. We have invitations from the Royal Family to attend. The princess wants a festive atmosphere.”
“A wise decision. One must not show weakness in the face of a potential enemy,” she replied, casting a sidelong glance at Reign.
“What did you say to Reign?” demanded Maggie. She emerged from around Wilda’s legs, her wings buzzing angrily. “You made him upset, didn’t you? Why are you such a meanie?” Her lower lip protruded and she threw icy daggers with her eyes at the older changeling.
“Prince Reign Cloud is old enough to learn a few things. I am trying to help him. If you wish to know more then I would suggest you ask him. It is in regards to his health and wellbeing.”
The nymph hissed at the priestess, only to have Wilda boop her on the snoot with the tip of her hoof. “Mind your manners, Maggie.”
Chastised, the nymph hid her ears into her thick mane and pouted. “Yes, momma.”
“Apologize to the priestess!”
Zeala tutted, “It’s really not necessary.”
“Oh, but I insist my brood be respectful to their elders,” countered Wilda, casting admonishing eyes upon her adopted daughter. “What they think of them is irrelevant. Elders are to be respected, especially if they are pillars of the community.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Zeala.” Maggie appeared admonished.
Reign noticed something between Maggie and Zeala. He could not quite place a hoof on it. For a moment, he thought they appeared similar to each other. Their expressions, their mannerisms very much alike, yet they also seemed so opposite of each other.
Zeala departed at a stately pace, saying her goodbyes as she made her way down the stairs and out the shop’s front door. She was gone and in her wake a family of changelings pressed their faces up to the glass window of the flower shop to watch her leave.
“Who wears a thick black cloak on a warm, sunny day?” observed Rose. The elder nymph had been minding the store and had been the one to let Zeala in. Her rose colored mane was up in a bun and she wore a green apron emblazoned with the name of Wilda’s shop in bold white letters. “I mean, she’s gotta be a gazillion degrees under that thing!”
“All priestess wear black robes,” Wilda reminded her daughter. “It represents the burden they have accepted upon themselves.”
“Yeah, but black? It makes her seem evil.”
“Most changelings have black or dark gray chitin. Does that make them evil? Does that make you evil?”
“She looks like a two-bit villain.”
“Rose!”
“Well she does, momma!”
The next day, a carriage arrived to pick up Reign Cloud. He was spirited away home and he found he was torn. Reign was glad he would soon see his parents. Wilda gave him a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek before he left. He really liked her. She was nice, even if she was a bit stern. In a way, it felt as though he was leaving home again. The girls bade him farewell in their own way by glomping him and showering him with icky kisses!
Wilda laughed merrily at his expense.
Maggie was not amused. She let her sisters know how she felt by starting a brawl with them as Reign’s carriage pulled away and headed down the street.
Soon, Reign was home and he was ushered to his mother’s study. His mind was filled with confusing thoughts, thanks to the conversation he had with Zeala yesterday. Doubt filled his mind and heart when he looked upon his mother. In public, she was almost always the perfect image of a princess ponies had come to expect. Behind closed doors, away from the eyes and ears of the public, it was a much different story. Momma looked like a wreck and paced, threatening to wear a trench into the crystal floor of her study. She stopped pacing and a smile exploded over her muzzle when she saw her son. She seemed so worn and there were bags under her eyes.
“I am having a tailor make a new suit for you,” she told him when they broke their embrace. Cadence used a hoof to brush strands of Reign’s mane behind one of his ears. “I want you to look your best when Chrysalis arrives.”
“I don’t want a new suit,” whined the colt.
“We have an image to project.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Why is your cheek wet?”
“Wilda,” he replied in a sullen tone.
Within an hour, as if it had been scheduled, the tailor arrived and was soon taking Reign Cloud’s measurements in his room. He was perched on a short, wide stool and was miserable. Reign was uncomfortable and cranky. Cadence paced around the tailor and her son, offering her own thoughts on how the new suit should look. The scratching of pencil on floating notepad filled the silence between the two adults while the colt stood there feeling ridiculous.
“I’ll just outgrow it,” he warned her while the tailor was measuring a foreleg.
“Then I’ll just have another one made for you,” came the bemused reply.
“If I live long enough,” he mumbled to himself.
“What was that?” Cadence asked, blinking. Her ears had perked upon Reign’s words and she gave him her undivided attention.
He wanted to tell her. He wanted to! Zeala’s words echoed in the back of his mind. Frustration bolstered his doubt. A sliver of pain crept along the length of his spine, making him go stiff for a moment. “Nothing,” Reign whispered to the floor.
Momma could be such a cruel monster when it came to demanding the best from her family. Aunt Celestia was worse. At least Aunt Luna would have understood. She hated formal functions, having adapted to modern times by keeping to her nights and snubbing political intrigue. It was not as brutal as she remembered and therefore no longer fun. At least, that’s what the colt had heard her mutter under her breath once. It had been a boring dinner with several monkey dignitaries. The only reason Reign remembered was because they were Howlers.
Momma wanted Reign to resume his studies, having put them on hold during his stay at Wilda’s. Sullen, the colt thought she was pushing him away again. Anger began to take a hold in his heart. It throbbed and caused pain, but it was bearable. Pain had to be tolerated. Pain was a part of his life. What was a little bit more?
Reign Cloud wondered if such stories he had been told were true. Aunt Celestia and Aunt Luna were both mischievous. The Howler monkeys, well, were very loud and obnoxious. The memory always left him shuddering. It had been a very boring night indeed, punctuated by the occasional howling sound one of the simian dignitaries would rattle the castle with.
With the stories came reflections to the conversation with the priestess. Was she speaking the truth? She had to be lying.
The seizure struck without warning.
The rage started shortly after breakfast, leading up to a seizure. Reign Cloud was in the middle of one of his tutoring sessions for world history and international relations. The question his tutor had asked was one the colt did not know the answer to. Reign was certain the answer had to be on the tip of his tongue. For the life of him, it was not forthcoming. The question was repeated, the tutor’s tone patient and expectant. Reign Cloud had always been an attentive student. His grades weren’t spectacular, but he was never in danger of failing any of his courses. Instead of answering, he became angrier and angrier. It was as though something else took control over all of his functions and Reign was unable to do anything more than watch.
Then, despite his best efforts, Reign Cloud snapped.
He exploded at his tutor, flaring his wings and baring his fangs. He hissed in frustration, shoving his books and papers off his desk. His little body seized up and the colt toppled over, frothing at the mouth. The frantic tutor scrambled for help, screaming at the top of her lungs. Reign Cloud’s body contorted and froze, his body rippling in agony. An eternity passed and he felt his tongue roll into the back of his throat. Wide eyed, he struggled to breathe, unable to move. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His vision began to fade, his hearing tuning out the world. The faint sound of thundering hooves left him musing if it was all too late.