From the stained-glass windows of Canterlot Castle’s throne room, a towering white mare surveyed her city with quiet contemplation. She had taken to doing so frequently these days, ever since the war had started.
Well, her subjects called it a war. And certainly she knew who the enemy was this time—but they had never openly engaged her or her forces; Queen Chrysalis’ plans had become so much more sophisticated with each passing year. Indeed, now it seemed she had taken a liking to a fear-based approach as opposed to a simple hoof-to-hoof brawl.
The mare looked down at the mass of ponies that jostled about through the city’s streets, going about their day-to-day lives. Even from this distance, despite the happy smiles and the laughter among friends, the unease was evident. It didn’t take a changeling to know that; it practically radiated off of them all in waves.
The Queen had to be given credit this time. This psychological warfare was working wonderfully.
A few ponies might disappear in the middle of the night. Inexplicable accidents seemed to be on the rise. And even the shadows seemed to be stalking innocent ponies these days.
It was hard to tell anymore what was real, and what was simply delusional.
“Princess Celestia,” a voice said, pulling the mare back into reality.
Celestia shook her head quickly to clear her thoughts, plastering a smile onto her face.
“Yes, soldier?” she said, standing a little taller. She pricked her ears forwards to show that she was listening.
“Your sister is on her way to the castle, Your Majesty. Should we lower the drawbridge?”
Princess Celestia sighed. She held up a hoof and then turned back to the window, peering out. Indeed a carriage was now just about in sight, travelling along the winding mountain road that led up to the bustling city that was Canterlot.
Its location was a strategic masterpiece, Celestia mused; a city that was built at the side of one of Equestria’s largest mountains certainly had a good vantage. Of course, that was more useful when it had first been built; these days, many centuries later, winged foes were much more common than they had been in times gone by.
Changelings included.
As it drew closer, Celestia was finally able to get a good look at the carriage. It was led by a finely strung pair of earth pony stallions and followed up by a proudly marching group of the newly-formed Night Guard: an elite force of only the very toughest bat ponies. Sat atop it—no doubt protected by a shield spell—a dark blue alicorn was waiting quietly, waving idly to the jittery ponies who had gathered around outside to watch her pass through.
Celestia turned back to the guard. “Certainly, lower it down,” she said, a rare sparkle in her eyes.
The stallion nodded quickly and tightened his grips on his spear, turning tail and hurrying out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him in his haste, leaving Celestia with only her thoughts once again. After a millennia of ruling Equestria, she had become accustomed to the long hours she would inevitably spend in this room—especially at times of war.
And this was war.
Celestia trotted over to the doorway cheerfully. Her feathers ruffled quietly against her side, tickling her rump gently. Her ears flitted about eagerly, waiting ever so patiently—as composed and proper as a good ruler should be—whilst nearly bursting at the seams from excitement. This campaign across the nation of her sister’s had seemed a good idea when she had initially agreed to it. Now, though, she was just happy to have her home in one piece.
For a week she hadn’t heard any news from the party—which happened to coincide perfectly with a larger kidnapping on the outskirts of Manehattan, exactly where Luna had been at the time. The only word of their survival had been received yesterday, and oh, Stars, was Celestia relieved to hear they were all safe and well.
The door creaked open and Celestia stood taller, stance suddenly stiffer. It was instinctive these days; most of her visitors said they did the same thing. But for a moment, nopony came through.
And then Luna, the supposedly regal and composed Princess of the Night, came barrelling through, all but leaping atop Celestia and knocking her straight to the ground. The guards at the door rushed in immediately at the noise; Celestia quickly shooed himhem away with a dismissing wave of her hoof.
“Tia!” Luna cried, snorting and giggling at the same time so as to make a noise which somewhat resembled a chuckling pig. “How have you been?”
Celestia laughed quietly and made to roll out from under her sister; when she found herself pinned, she sighed and relaxed. “Worried sick, you monster!” she cried, batting Luna’s shoulder with a hoof. It was all she could reach at her current disadvantage. “You didn’t send word!”
Luna rolled her eyes. “I did, Tia. But I probably chose the wrong pony for the job. I sent that new recruit—he was so eager, see! But, alas, it seemed he went northwest instead of simply west. Poor thing found himself at Yakyakistan—and they immediately smothered him in “Yak love”, as they now dub it.”
Celestia cringed. “I admire Prince Rutherford’s ambitions and customs, I truly do, but…”
She twirled her hoof in the air, searching for the correct word.
Luna smirked. “He and his yaks can be brutish?” she concluded.
Celestia opened her mouth to retort, but found no words coming out. “Yes, I suppose that is an… adequate word for the situation. I would perhaps have used something a little less severe, but…”
Luna rolled her eyes and then clambered off of her sister. She used her magic to heave Celestia to her hooves. She then flapped her wings excitedly and said, “But that’s not important! What is important is what happened to me today!”
Celestia stiffened. Her own wings flared out and her eyes suddenly blazed as dangerously as the sun she wielded. “What did they do to you?” she snarled.
Luna shook her head quickly, raising her hooves in the air. “No, no, nothing bad! Great, actually! I’ve got a fan!”
Celestia was quiet for a moment. Her posture then slumped and she let out a small breath. “Oh, thank the heavens!” she breathed, placing her hoof just above her pounding heart. “You scared me senseless then, Luna!”
Luna giggled. “Sorry. I really didn’t mean to! I believe you need a break, Sister. This stress is making you paranoid!”
Celestia hung her head. “You don’t need to tell me I’m paranoid. I know that myself.” She fell silent and sighed again; after a slightly terse silence, she then stood taller once more and said, “So, this so-called fan of yours?”
Luna trotted slightly on the spot. “Oh, Tia, it was wonderful! A little pegasus filly all but flew into my head, she was so happy! My night guard nearly attacked her, of course, but I stopped them. And oh, I am so glad that I did! She was so happy, and look! She gave me a gift!” Luna beamed as she turned her head to the side and pointed her hoof to her mane. Just behind her ears a small, silver clip with lime green studs was sat, nestled in the midnight blue hair. It seemed to almost sparkle and glint, shooting the sunlight directly between Celestia’s eyes.
“Oh, that’s lovely, Lu,” she said, beaming as she reached out to draw her sister into a hug. A moment later she then drew back and turned to the stained glass windows again. She peered down at the bustling city once more, smiling. “Our subjects are trusting you more by the day, aren't they?”
Luna only gasped in reply.
Celestia laughed quietly at first before her posture suddenly stiffened. She frowned. She pushed herself up to her hooves from the window ledge that she had been resting against. Luna’s tiny whimpers were the only thing she could hear. But, as Celestia turned around slowly with her wings unfurled, a new voice sounded. A voice she knew all too well.
“It seems that you are the one who is too trusting, Princess,” the voice snapped. It was a sharp sound that sent shudders down Celestia’s spine.
She growled.
“Chrysalis,” she hissed before she had even finished turning around—but she had not fully anticipated the sight which met her eyes.
Luna stood weakly before her, struggling visibly and snarling under the grip of the newcomer. A silver ring sat around the base of her horn, nullifying her magic. Try as she might, she couldn’t even produce a spark.
The new mare was as black as the darkest night sky, with a body absolutely riddled with holes as if her body was being rotted from the inside out. Her tattered, iridescent wings buzzed excitedly, her tail flicking idly all the while. She snorted, a smirk upon her muzzle.
“I wouldn’t risk any careless moves, Celestia. The door to this room is locked and soundproofed. We’re alone.”
Chrysalis’ horn fared into life. From the acrid green aura a blade—silver with lime green splotches—burst into being from the thin air. It came to rest just slightly below Luna’s chin, drawing the smallest trickle of blood. “Your dear sister is at something of a disadvantage, you see.”
Celestia snarled and stood taller, but she made no attempt to do anything else. “What do you want?” she asked, a small amount of disgust lacing her otherwise neutral voice. “I will not give you my subjects or their emotions to feed from, but anything else is up for trade. A peace offering.”
Chrysalis smirked. “I don’t need a peace deal, Celestia. Once I’ve killed you, I can take it all for myself anyway.” She guffawed loudly. “Hence why I take the evil route, pony. I don’t negotiate. I want it all. Should every good ruler not do so for her subjects?”
Celestia was quiet. After quick deliberation, and a sideways glance at her sister, she then said cautiously, “Indeed, we both have our subjects’ interests at heart. But this violence… Would it not be more prudent to collaborate? Integrate your changelings into pony society and feed from the love of friends and lovers?”
Chrysalis’ entire body tensed. Her wings stopped flittering, suddenly deadly still. And then she snarled, “You dare liken my swarm to those traitors you now call allies?” she screamed, her entire being now radiating magic in pulsating waves. Each one smashed into Celestia’s body, making her head pound and throb and her vision begin to blur. “The changeling race is the thing of nightmares! Of legend! And you try to make us little better than those worthless pounds of flesh you call subjects?”
The next blast of magic struck Celestia directly above her heart, making her cry out momentarily in pain. She stood strong, though, eyes focused on Luna all the while. Chrysalis snarled at the sight, pressing the blade ever more forcefully against her captive’s skin.
“You will not undermine me, Celestia!” Chrysalis finally yelled, wings buzzing again as her magic eased. And, as her rage subsided slightly, something even more terrifying replaced it.
Complete, unfaltering confidence.
“Your reign has been long, Princess, but that is all you shall ever be. I am a Queen; a deity. Every one of my subjects, my children, knows their exact role and purpose in life. And every one of my changelings—drones, infiltrators, breeders and soldiers alike—has been nurtured to fulfil that exact purpose. And, unlike your meek subjects, mine are all trained to the point of perfection in combat.” Chrysalis smirked. “So, tell me… How long will your ponies hold off my swarm with you gone?”
Celestia growled ever so slightly. “I will not attack you, Chrysalis,” she said. “But I will defend myself until you keel over from your own exhaustion.”
Chrysalis only smiled. “Is that so?” she asked, horn fizzing. Celestia braced herself, ready to throw up a shield at a whim if she should need to. “Because to me, you’re already a dead mare.”
Celestia snarled once again, lowering her head ever so slightly in preparation. She pawed slightly at the ground—but Chrysalis did not strike. She only smiled in an overly sweet manner, digging the blade into Luna’s throat ever so slightly more so that the mare spluttered a little.
Celestia stumbled slightly, a wave of dizziness rushing over her. She recovered her footing quickly, though, and continued to stare deeply into those menacing eyes.
“Your sister is of excellent breeding, is she not?” Chrysalis said idly, tilting her head down to look at Luna. Her eyes did not leave Celestia, though. Her smirk did not fade at all. “Don’t you think she’ll make an excellent broodmare for my larvae?”
That did it. Celestia flared her wings and reared up, an attack already charged on her horn—and then the magic fizzled away. Her legs crumpled beneath her and she collapsed to the floor, suddenly deafened to her sister’s scream and Chrysalis’ cackling. And, as she trembled in a useless heap, she was just able to watch as the Queen hurled Luna to the floor. Chrysalis then stepped towards her, licking her fangs.
Celestia couldn’t hear the words, but they were said slowly enough that she could lip read them.
“Sweet dreams, little pony,” Chrysalis whispered.
And then Celestia’s eyes slipped shut.