//------------------------------// // Chapter 9 // Story: The Changing of the Sun // by brokenimage321 //------------------------------// Celestia was the first to crest the hill. She surveyed the landscape below with a sharp eye, then turned to look behind her. “Come on,” she said, “We’ve made it.” Up the hill came Twilight Sparkle, holding a worn sheet of parchment in her magic, followed closely by Rarity, who wore both her mane and tail in a tight bun. The three of them were leaner, hardier than they had been. The road had not been particularly difficult, at least until they left Equestria, but still: spending two full weeks travelling by hoof, without a cushy reading chair or weekly visit to the spa does something to a pony. And, though Twilight’s notes had, indeed, gotten them here more quickly than Celestia had hoped, they’d still had to walk the whole way. (Celestia had tried to magic wings onto Rarity and Twilight to try and speed things up a bit, and, though Rarity had caught on fairly quickly, the test flight alone had very nearly made Twilight ill; she had sworn, despite both their pleadings, that she would never fly again, if it was the last thing she did. ) Celestia herself had changed, too; her hooves and wings had sprouted holes and her carapace had grown a sort of hard angularity. All that was left of who she had once been was a single white hoof, topped by a little fur that stopped just short of the ankle. The rest of her body was orange-and-black, hard and sharp (One cold night, she had thought of asking Twilight or Rarity to snuggle with her for warmth—but she knew that, for them, her shell would be literal cold comfort. Besides, they already looked so peaceful in their sleeping bags…). Rarity glanced up, and saw, for the first time, the valley spreading below them. “Oh, my,” she breathed. Celestia turned and followed Rarity’s gaze. “Oh my, indeed,” she murmured. Below them stretched a blasted and desolate valley, with only a muddy stream and a few tufts of thick, coarse grasses to break the monotony. Roughly in the center of the expanse stood a structure that looked like it had not so much been built as hatched—tall, crooked, misshapen, full of gaping holes. “This is the place, right?” Celestia asked without looking at Twilight. “The Changeling Hive?” She didn’t need to ask. Even if she hadn’t memorized Compass Rose’s description of the place, there was little else it could be. And yet, it was still comforting to hear Twilight’s voice. Twilight herself cleared her throat and consulted her notes. She looked up over the top of the parchment, then rolled it up. “Yes, your Highness,” she murmured. “Well,” Celestia said, trying to fake some chipper enthusiasm, “No time like the present.” And, without giving either of them a chance to dissuade herself from her course, Celestia set off down the other side of the hill. For being what it was—the heart of an evil kingdom bent on the domination of the entire civilized world—the valley was surprisingly quiet. Nothing moved, aside from the dust blowing in the breeze and the occasional black speck fluttering around the exterior of the hive. The three of them walked quietly towards the hive. The mile or so they had to cross gave the three of them plenty of time with their own thoughts. Rarity made a gagging noise as the thin grass eventually gave way to bare dust, but Twilight shot her a dirty look, and she fell silent. Celestia for her part, tried to keep her mind off her fears. She was a big girl; she’d been doing this Princess thing for a long time, and, all told, she was pretty good at it. Don’t let the thoughts of what might happen distract you from what has to happen, she tried to convince herself; think about what you can control, not what you can’t, As they drew close to the hive, they noticed a small squad of Changelings, wearing dark armor and hissing at each other in some incomprehensible tongue. They huddled at the base of a blank wall, made of mud, without so much as a window to break the monotony. One of the guards glanced up, spotted the three of them, and said something to his companions; all of them turned to stare. They said nothing as the three of them came to a halt ten or fifteen paces away. “I am Princess Celestia of Equestria,” she said calmly. “My friends and I would like a word with your Queen.” The guards each bowed, then wordlessly stepped back. Behind them, the muddy wall puckered, then irised silently open, leaving behind the smell of wet earth and decay. The doorway revealed a narrow hallway running around the interior wall of the structure, crosswise to the door. “The Queen expectsss you,” hissed one of the guards. Celestia nodded. “Thank you kindly,” she said, then stepped forward into the portal. Twilight and Rarity shot nervous glances at each other, then jogged up behind Celestia. She stood just inside the open doorway, waiting as another hole opened slowly in the wall opposite. Twilight yelped as the wall behind them began to close, then edged away from it. “It’s a trap,” she moaned, clutching her head between her hooves. “I’ve read about things like this—it’s a trap, and we’re all gonna die—” “It may be a trap,” Celestia said, her voice supernaturally calm. “Though, either way, we almost certainly are not going to die.” The wall ahead was now fully open, and Celestia stepped through the hole into a wide corridor that appeared to cut across several smaller hallways. “What do you mean?” Rarity demanded. “We’re in the middle of their hive, for Pony’s sake!  If they want to kill us, then there’s nothing—” “Rarity.” Rarity glanced up, then shrank back. Celestia glared at her, her alien gaze hard and sharp. Celestia stared at her for a heartbeat or two, then turned her gaze forward again. She was quiet for a moment longer before she spoke. “The two of you have meant more to me than you know over the past few months,” she said. “And, though your support has gotten me through this—” another pause as another wall opened “—your skills were what really made this whole crazy experiment work. Twilight, your research helped me cope with what was happening—” Twilight blushed a little “—and Rarity, your knowledge about makeup and gossip—” Rarity made an impatient little noise, but didn’t speak “—gave me courage. But now,” she said, “It’s my turn to help.” Twilight swallowed. “H-how can you help, Princess?” she asked. Celestia shot her a roguish grin. “Ponies,” she said. “I know ponies. Had more than a thousand years of practice, after all—and, if I don’t miss my guess, Chrysalis isn’t going to hurt us.” “Why not?” Rarity asked with a gulp. “She’s too much of a showmare,” Celestia replied. “If all she wanted was to kill me, she would have done it in Canterlot, where everyone could watch. She wants us here alive—though, for the life of me, I can’t guess why…” Twilight glanced over her shoulder again at the wall closing behind them. “You may be right,” she admitted. “I mean, they’re kinda rolling out the red carpet for us…” Celestia shot her a questioning look, and Twilight pointed. “All these holes have been opening in a straight line,” she said. “And we’re moving upwards. I think it’s leading us to the throne room—or whatever it is Changeling hives have...” “Plus, you know,” Rarity added casually, “them.” Both Celestia and Twilight turned to look—and saw two dozen electric-blue eyes watching them from the gloom of a side-hallway. “Let’s keep walking,” Celestia said quickly. “Agreed,” chipped in Twilight. They walked on, through doorway after doorway opening before them and closing behind, trying to ignore the watching eyes and the buzzing wings. Like Twilight had pointed out, their own personal hallway continued to lead them higher and higher up, and further and further in, always in a straight line. And finally, after what felt like hours in the damp, dark hole, following a hallway that followed no guidance but its own—another portal opened, and the three of them stepped into open space. The room they stood in was tall and cone-shaped, with small openings, high up on the walls, letting in shafts of light. In the center of the room, on a twisted throne that looked like broken glass, sat a tall, slim, dark form. “Chrysalis,” snarled Celestia. Queen Chrysalis glanced up. For just a moment, her face remained blank—then she broke into a wide, toothy grin. “Ah, Princess Celestia,” she purred, “long time no see.” Twilight stepped forward. “You—you’re the monster who—” “Ah ah ah,” Chrysalis chuckled, “Watch your manners, Sparky. After all, you’re in my hive now.” Twilight shrank back, then looked up at Celestia. Celestia glanced down at her, and something in her eye made Twilight stare. Chrysalis stretched, then stood. “I must say, Celestia,” she said, “I always thought black-and-red was a little garish, but you—” she grinned “—you make it look good.” Rarity snarled and took a step forward. “Yeah?” she spat. “I still think she looks better in white! Change her back!” Chrysalis cocked her head. “Pardon?” she said mildly. Rarity opened her mouth again, but Celestia put out a warning hoof. Rarity looked up at her and saw, behind the softness in her eyes, something hard and sharp. “I’ll handle this,” Celestia said gravely. Rarity swallowed, shot a nervous glance at Twilight, and stepped back. Celestia cleared her throat, took two or three steps forward, and straightened to her full height. Twilight’s eyes went wide: for as long as she had known her, she had always been regal; even in her quiet, casual moments, she had still been a Princess. But now? Now, she was a Queen. “Your Majesty, Queen Chrysalis,” she called out, her voice deep and loud and echoing, “you have invaded my kingdom. You have terrorized and murdered my subjects. You have made each and every one of us fear for our very lives. And—” she swallowed. “—and you have cursed me beyond all toleration.” Chrysalis snickered. A muscle under Celestia’s eye twitched. “We will yet have words to say about your other crimes, but for now: I demand you give me the means to break this curse.” Chrysalis chuckled, a deep, throaty chuckle, then stood and stepped down from her throne. “That sounds lovely, Princess, it really does,” she purred. “But what’s in it for me? Really?” Celestia’s eyes widened. “What’s in it for—?!” she spluttered. “Indeed,” Chrysalis said. “You can’t honestly expect me to roll back one of my longest-running schemes simply because you asked nicely.” Celestia shook her head, took a deep breath, then set her jaw. She looked up at Chrysalis again, already halfway down the stairway to the floor, and glared at her with fire in her eyes. “You forget,” Celestia said icily. “Last time we fought, I nearly beat you. You only won because you had stolen the love of Shining Armor…” she grinned a little, then glanced theatrically around the chamber. “...and I can see no one you can leach love from now.” Chrysalis scoffed. “Empty threats, and you know it,” she said. “True, you almost beat me once—when you were an Alicorn. Now that you’re a Queen—and only half of one, at that—I could crush you like an insect, if I wanted.” “I don’t need magic to destroy you,” Celestia growled. “Oh, really?” Chrysalis said. “What are you gonna do—ask your generals to come marching to the middle of nowhere to wage war over a personal grudge? Against enemies that, it’s already been proven, cannot be beaten with sword or spear? Not to mention,” she added, her eyes glittering, “You’re not exactly the Princess you used to be.” “I’ll get Luna. And Cadance.” Celestia said. “They’ll—” “Not against a hundred thousand changelings, they won’t,” Chrysalis growled. “You and I both know that Cadance can barely stand to hurt a fly, and Luna is too afraid of her own power to use it. Try and get them out here. Try to make them your attack dogs. See what happens. Besides,” she added, turning away, “they won’t be able to do a thing about the real reason you’re here.” “What does she need to do, then?” Twilight piped up. “To change her back—what does she need to do to make you do it?” “She can’t, Twilight, dear,” Chrysalis said. “In the first place, I’ve invested far too much in her to simply undo it all. And, in the second—” she shrugged, then grinned wickedly. “I don’t know how.”