//------------------------------// // Keep Your Friends Close and Your Enemies Closer (Twilight) Part 1 // Story: dC/dt ≠ 0 // by I Thought I Was Toast //------------------------------// Changing Times’ Notes: Forgive me the deception last chapter, as I thought it better for you to see what happened to Twilight from her point of view, rather than read it from me and my notes. Regardless, this report – it must be noted – is not for the faint of heart. It is a testament to the darker side of our integration, a glimpse of the worst of what both ponies and changelings had to offer. I lost friends during the events contained therein. Ponies and changelings died – as loathe as I am to admit it. Yes. That’s right. We’ve reached one of the bigger turning points in the unseen war with the lords that Prince Morpheus has only hinted at in his reports. I’m not sure if he avoids talking about it out of shame or simple protocol, but this part, right here, needed to be said, and I am truly grateful to Twilight for doing this. It would be an insult to the memory of the changeling I promised to do all this for if I failed to publish this report just because it doesn’t fit the theme of hopes and dreams. Keep Your Friends Close and Your Enemies Closer: A Report by Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria Talking to Lyra about caring for Morpheus during his metamorphosis was odd to say the least. For one thing, it was apparently expected that I feed him myself. The others – both my friends and the prince’s followers – had objected, but Lyra had insisted that it would be good for me to get used to it now. She had really pressed that I had to be careful not to overfeed him. Indeed, after what we’d seen on Nightmare Night, the biggest threat to our relationship wasn’t when a changeling chose to feed, but when a changeling fed on instinct. Love offered freely – even the simple infatuation of a crush – is inherently difficult to resist for some reason. Amusing though it may be, I think Mo phrased it best for me when he compared it to being fed grapes by a pretty mare fawning over him. Regardless, it took a while for me to get a feel for how my feelings started to shift over time. And depending on how he fed – which varied based on how much time passed between feedings – my feelings would begin to either dampen or magnify. The first time I’d tried, I’d gotten lost in the euphoria. If Lyra hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened. Despite that, I can still smile a little at the memory. The second time, however… it still sends shivers down my spine. The happiness. The joy. The warm bubbly feelings. They just faded away before I knew what was happening. I vaguely remember shouting at him for something stupid and storming from the room with a flash of light. After that brief burst of anger, though, even negative emotions didn’t seem to want to come. I was left lethargic and apathetic, curled into a ball upon a cushion in the library, until Lyra found me. I’ll be honest. Going through that made me really reconsider whether or not I should enter a relationship with Mo. However, I was able to hold onto the fact that Mo would never do that to me if he could help it. Our first kiss – that magical melding of our feelings for each other – was how it was supposed to be. Neither overwhelming nor draining, but empowering. Relationships were a two way street, though, so I learned to adapt. I learned when to pull back with my emotions and when to give a bit more feeling to it. In the end, Lyra was right. That added control to my emotions served us well. It would let Mo cut loose a little more like Lyra thought it might – and that did wonders for his nerves – but it would also heighten my own awareness. It helped me learn to control my emotions in a way that I’d previously thought I’d need years of studying under Celestia to master. It would still take time to master, of course, but I would soon be thankful for her advice. “Twilight, you got a letter from the Princess!” Spike skidded into my room, huffing and puffing. “So. Many. Stairs…. Are there usually that many?” The lights flickered to leave a pile of dietary books in front of my assistant. “Oh, ha ha, very funny, Castle.” Spike snorted a bit of smoke as his brow furrowed. The books disappeared in another flicker to leave a winking smiley face peering up from the floor. For my part, I let them have their antics as I rested on the bed to watch the pulsating cocoon beside me. I kneaded at the blankets as my stomach roiled – trying to focus on all the feelings I’d felt on Nightmare Night. According to Lyra, Mo should be out any day now as long as I continued to feed him properly. “Hey, Twilight!” Spike prodded me with a claw. “I don’t need to grab Lyra, do I?” “No,” I sighed, pulling away to look down at my number one assistant. “I was just finishing up for the day. I’m a little worried, though, you know?” Spike rolled his eyes. “A little? Twilight, you’ve basically shut yourself in here for the past few days. Whenever I come in with meals, you’re either reading those books Lyra got you or making googly eyes at ‘His Royal Highness.’” Spike made little air quotes with his claws. “You’re way past worried. It’s honestly concerning me and the girls.” He held up the scroll he’d come in with. “You didn’t even react to getting a letter from the Princess!” “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing important.” I waved a hoof dismissively. “She’s probably just wondering where my weekly report is. It’s Wednesday, right?” Spike snorted. “Try Friday.” “See, I’m even later than I thought.” I nodded. “I just lost track of time waiting for Mo to come out. I’m sure she’ll understand. I really should get started on it, though….” “Well—” Spike gave a sudden belch, and a second scroll appeared. “Odd, she doesn’t usually send another so fast.” I snatched the parchment from the air and unfurled it. “P.S. Before you start panicking about having to make some impossible choice about leaving young Morpheus, know that I have already written to Third Eye on the matter. He, unfortunately, can not lend much aid in Manehatten. In fact, he projects that any presence from his Hive will backfire spectacularly. “He did, however, assure me that Morpheus can live off of what his followers provide second hand. Lyra’s insistence on you feeding him was solely made from her personal experiences with Bon Bon – something you may wish to talk with her about when you have the chance.” I blinked. “Umm…” Quickly grabbing the first scroll, I unfurled it. “Twilight, we have an emergency in Manehatten. I’ve just received word via emergency messenger spell that there has been an unauthorized changeling incursion. Some giant, chitinous, monstrosity apparently came flying in to land in front of city hall – the same city hall that’s been blockaded by protesters since we announced negotiations. “The guard’s report states that the last thing he saw before galloping to the station was somepony – or rather, someling – stepping forth from the maw of whatever landed at city hall. I need you to get there now and handle it. Let Spike handle informing the others. Your job is to teleport there as soon as you get this and make sure this doesn’t turn into an international crisis. “I wish I could be there to help you, but Luna and I are both mobilizing the guards in case this turns serious. For that you have my sincerest apologies, Celestia.” At some point, I’d started hyperventilating. I needed to breathe calmly and slowly. Yes, like that. It would not do to panic here. “Spike,” I hoofed him the letter, “Hera’s just outside, right? Show this to her so everyling can start generating ideas. That is, if they don’t already—” “Lady Antiquity did what?!” A fractured echo thundered through the walls. “Figure out what she’s doing there, now! No, better yet, figure out how we didn’t know about this until she was literally in the middle of Manehatten!” A lesser yet still omninous grumbling rumbled through. “Hive-forsaken son of a Widowmaker… Of course he’d designate me second in command. Idiot! I’m not a lord! Ve’re not made for this…. Stupid, moronic, bit-brained… How in the name of the First Father do I tell Twilight about this?” “Nevermind, they know.” I pressed the letter into his claws again to snap him out of his confusion. “Take this to the rest of the girls and make sure they know what’s going on. I need to teleport to Manehatten right now.” “Twilight, what’s going on?!” Spike hissed as he grabbed my foreleg tightly in his claw. “Well, if I just heard Hera right—” there was a loud swear in Chi’tri from the other side of the door “—then the head of one of the four main changeling houses just waltzed into Manehatten like she owned the place.” I pulled back and lit my horn. “Twilight, wait!” Spike surged forward. “My Lady, no!” Hera burst into the room. “For all ve know, you could be playing right into her hooves!” Both were too late. With a flash of light, I vanished from the room only to reappear on the frigid outskirts of Manehatten. A blanket of snow already covered the city, with piles of white as big as a pony in some places. The sun burned with a harsh, cold light that reflected between the steel and glass and ice to sear into my retinas, but I didn’t dare look away. For I was a mare on a mission. With a furious flap, I launched into the air and soared into maze-like confines of the city. I forced myself to maintain a low altitude, curving from street to street, so that ponies could see that I – their princess – had arrived. Several who saw me cheered – those who seemed to be going about their lives as best they could. Of the many who remained, those who seemed on the edge of panic stood a little taller at my name. They stopped casting their eyes at every shadow to look up and see me in the sky. I smiled and waved at them all, so they would know everything was alright. Twisting and turning through the myriad of skyscrapers, the town hall finally loomed before me. A round, bulbous carriage sat at the steps of the building before the throngs of angry protesters barely held back by the guard. The… transport… appeared as a pulsating green orb held in the clutches of four curved chitinous spikes. Said spikes grew from the back of a many-legged abomi— creature who’s massive maw had split open, revealing an inky black abyss only slightly lit by the bioluminescent organs within. It took me a moment to realize its azure eyes were below said maw, and then another few seconds to realize that it had a real mouth – or rather mandibles – below that. Above its many, many legs were an equally large number of small membranous wings that vibrated in a buzzing wave that kept it floating above the ground. “That’s… new.” I shook my head and looked back at town hall. I itched to examine the carriage, but I couldn’t afford the time right now. As I alighted on the steps, protesters both cheered and jeered. Some found solace in my presence – shouting encouragement for the princess who came to save them. Others… others shrieked barbed insults at me. There was a snowball or two that needed deflecting as I hurried through the door, and a guard even took an egg to the face for me. Ponies were not happy, and a small part of me cringed at the knowledge that I was partially to blame. Some of the things they said about Mo and me – about our now very real relationship – made me want to go curl up in my bed and cry. I could have probably shrugged it off before, but now it cut me to the core. But princesses don’t cry – or at least, they must pick and choose what battles to cry over. Everything I was doing here would have consequences, even shedding tears, so I entered the building with my head held high. The interior of the building was smooth. Pristine. Sterile. Unlike the dingy grey of steel and concrete outside, the inside of the town hall shimmered with a cleanliness that felt dirty to look at. It bespoke of mountains of useless red tape – far more than even somepony like myself would tolerate. Each marble desk – yes, they had marble desks – proudly bore a golden plaque bearing many long and convoluted identification numbers for purposes I couldn’t even begin to guess. My eyes, though, were focused on the lord in front of said desks. She was tall and slender, even more so than Chrysalis, while her currently wither length mane was done in an elaborate bun with two chitinous spikes to hold it in place. Without that bun, she’d probably be tripping over her own mane – a thought that made me giggle internally – but with it she maintained a sort of dreadful elegance. Chrysalis had left an impression of smugness and arrogance when I’d met her, and Mo had left a sort of mangled feeling of hope after I’d gotten over my initial scare. The changeling in front of me gave neither of those. She was calm, confident, and chillingly conserved. “Princess Twilight Sparkle.” She bared her fangs in a small, polite smile. “I am—” “Lady Antiquity Antipathy. It’s a pleasure for you, I’m sure.” I smiled in turn. Interrupting where appropriate to show my knowledge? Check. Not lying even for the pleasantries? Check. “Indeed.” Her smile grew a tick. “I see Prince Morpheus has at least found some time to teach you the essentials as he ambles about making his little ‘friends.’” I could hear the air quotes even if she was too polite to make them, and I barely caught her rolling her eyes slightly at the word. “Oh, I wouldn’t call knowing your name an essential lesson.” I tittered, holding a hoof up to hide my frown as I’d been taught. Was it by Celestia or Mo? Rarity? I couldn’t remember, but I was thankful for the trick now. “Really, the important part is knowing what you stand for.” Subtle mocking barbs she can’t call me out on? Check. Gosh, I was on fire. Maybe that was why I wanted to run about, flailing my forehooves in panic? “Oh, come now, dear Princess—” a slight pout on Lady Antiquity’s part “—assuming I’m evil already? What could I have possibly done to deserve this? Ve can’t think of a single crime that merits your bitter distrust, and you wound me just for doing so. “You gave your boy toy—” her voice dripped with sarcasm and venom for just those two words, “—a chance without knowing anything about him, so why let a few second hoof stories color your perception of me?” I had to try really hard to not bite my lip. “Tea?” Antiquity conjured a fancifully crafted teapot set from the aether. It was made of chitin, of course, but thankfully seemed to be carved from that hardened cement Morpheus had shown me – rather than being an actual, living creature. Celestia give me strength, we had reached the part Mo warned me about. “Yes?” I couldn’t stop the hesitance from reaching my voice. “It’s a simple yes or no, dear. Not, ‘Yes?’” She mimicked my voice perfectly on the quote. “If you can’t even decide something as simple as an invitation to tea, then—” “Yes.” I affirmed, taking initiative and grabbing one of the two saucers and cups she held. “Marvelous,” she chittered in a way that failed to reach her eyes, “although we are sadly lacking a proper parlor to partake in.” She turned to look at the restroom built into the side of the room. It was a cavernous affair of yet even more white marble and opulent gold filigree. “Oh, my dearest little secretaries, I know you’ve been hiding in there since I entered the building!” she thrummed. There were several whimpers, a squeak, and one very loud and masculine squawk. “Ah, Mayor Pencil Pusher! So nice to hear your dulcet tones!” Antiquity gave a predatory grin that had me questioning whether or not she already knew the mayor was in there. “Would you be so kind as to lend us your office for tea?” “W-will you let the other ponies who work here go free if I do?” The muscular pegasus poked his head out of the ladies room. “Oh, so brave…” Antiquity thrummed, “...but you seem to be misunderstanding something.” “I am?” The mayor’s deep baritone shot up a few octaves. “Yes,” Antiquity nodded somberly, “like so many foals before you, you think you actually matter enough to be a hostage. Frankly, I don’t care what happens to your secretaries, and I care even less what happens to you.” She grinned at me as she continued, “Perhaps, dear mayor, if you were actually friends with the Princess of Friendship here, ve’d consider holding you hostage. But, as it is, you’re all nothing but wriggling maggots not even worthy of being squashed beneath my hooves. You were free to go the moment I walked in.” The mayor squirmed. “T-then why didn’t you—” “Because it amused me not to!” Antiquity hissed at him. “You dare to question me in my mercy?! You’re naught but food, and you should be thankful for even that honour! Begone, before I change my mind! You. Matter. Not!” She stomped a hoof, afterwhich everypony who had hidden in the restroom blew past us like a hurricane. She sniffed. “There. I do so hate it when pawns speak out of turn.” “He was asking a question.” I frowned. “He was being stubborn,” Antiquity huffed, sticking her snout in the air. Apparently, she was rather arrogant beneath the earlier facade of calm. That was good to know. I could take advantage of that when the time was right. “Daring to question me?” She breathed deeply, then looked back at me with that predatory smile from earlier. “That’s only attractive if you have the clout to back it up.” “Oh, sweet Celestia, you’re a Widowmaker too.” I backed up a step, caught completely off guard. Antiquity frowned only slightly. “I despise that word, dearest.” She smiled again as I squirmed. “I much prefer the term ‘corruptional enthusiast.’ Ve’re not surprised sweet little Morpheus didn’t warn you, though. It’s so rare to find somepony to my tastes that ve can barely recall the last time it happened.” She drew uncomfortably close, forcing me to back away. “You see, I just love to defile the powerful, but it can be difficult to actually entice those whom I deem worthy.” She hissed the last part. “You, my dearest, are worthy, should you so choose.” Backing up, she chittered as if absolutely nothing had gone wrong in the past few minutes. “But where are my manners? Business first. Pleasure second. And those maggots listening at the window so far past third, they’re lucky I can’t work up the energy to kill them!” There was muffled swearing and the now very familiar sound of a camera breaking. Blinking, I looked out the window to see several retreating reporters. “You planned that, didn’t you?” “But, of course.” She hid a small chitter behind her hoof. “And the flirting?” I arched an eyebrow. “Just an act?” Antiquity bared her fangs in a small smile. “Make of it what you will, but no act is complete without at least a hint of the truth.” “Right, then.” I nodded. “It’s official. I completely and utterly hate you. Only Mo gets to do that.” She gave an honest-to-Celestia laugh, and it was terrifying. “Mo?! Is that what you call him? I see we have much to talk about. Shall we take our tea in the mayor’s office then?”