If there was one good thing about this whole “revealing true faces” ploy, it was that Twilight got the rare opportunity to enjoy a bit of changeling irony. In no other circumstances would she have the chance to pretend to the palace staff that she’d literally known since nymphhood that they were correct in their assumption that this was the first time they’d met while showing her real form.
They were all polite enough to withhold any show of fear, though its poisonous flavor was quite clear to her senses. Perhaps Celestia and Luna had specifically picked those with a decent poker face. Though not quite perfectly, as she couldn’t help but notice the little tremble in Raspberry Quartz’s lip as she came by to deliver tea.
An old friend, working in Canterlot Castle just as her family had for generations.
Twilight couldn’t help herself. She turned and bared her teeth in a wide, fanged grin, and accepted her cup by hoof.
The startled unicorn let out a squeak and tried to hide behind her tea cart.
“Twilight,” Celestia scolded gently, arching a brow.
The Princess of the Seekers held up her free hoof. “Sorry. I saw a chance, and you know how we are.” Turning back to Raspberry, she leaned around to try to meet the poor mare’s eye. “Raspberry, please don’t hide. I’m still Twilight Sparkle. We’ve known each other since we were fillies. We used to play in the gardens while your mother worked and Cadence was at lessons.”
Behind her cart, Raspberry Quartz peeked out, only her deep red eyes visible over the edge. Twilight needn’t taste the air to know the sheer terror that struck her old playmate.
But she did. The rotting taste wiped the smile from her features and made her draw back in order to survey the little mare. “B-Berry?” she stuttered. “It’s really me. You used to call me Sparkles because when I messed up a spell I’d shoot a shower of sparks from my horn.”
Raspberry looked as though she were torn between inching her way out from behind that cart or fainting outright. Instead, she tore her terrified gaze away from the changeling royal and looked to her princesses. “Y-Your Highness,” she whimpered.
“I understand,” Celestia said with a patient smile. “I’m proud of you for trying, Berry. Go home for the day and rest, please.”
The little mare needed no further prompting. She bowed and shot out from behind the cart like she’d been jabbed in the rear with a fire poker, moving faster than Twilight had ever seen her move before. Raspberry Quartz was out of the room and down the hall in half a second at most, the fading echo of her hooves ringing off the walls.
Twilight’s gaze stayed fixed upon the door her friend had fled through in such terror for a moment longer, the taste of fear still thick in the air. Slowly, she turned to face her old teachers and surrogate aunts, a question caught in her throat.
“She was taken,” Luna answered the unspoken question with a sad shake of her head. “We found her hanging in one of their cocoons in Cadence’s home after their Queen was revealed and expelled. They’d been fed upon for days.”
Silín cursed from her place standing beside Twilight. “Days? By her? How has that mare recovered so?”
“Cadence,” Twilight muttered. “Her love magic is tied to emotion and life.” She brought a hoof to touch her forehead in order to hide her growing horror. “She fed on Berry and Shining. And I wasn’t here to stop it—”
“You were tending to your hive,” Luna cut her off. “But yes. They and several of Cadence’s friends were taken, fed upon, and replaced.”
“We can’t confirm why Shining was kept under a spell and allowed to walk around, but I’d wager it was the strength of his love.” Celestia lit her horn and set about preparing tea for everyone, her eyes downcast. “I don’t suppose you might know?”
Twilight squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth. Her blood boiled and screamed.
Whether it was urging her to defend one friend or avenge the others, she couldn’t say. She certainly wasn’t in a position to do the former.
“It was either that or she wanted a bodyguard if things went poorly before she was strong enough,” Silín answered in her stead. “I read the reports from our kin—with respect, Highness, Chrysalis is nowhere near powerful enough to beat you on her own. Not without powerful love.”
The Princess of Day nodded. “I thought as much. Thank you.” Her feathers twitched in a subtle little show of lingering discontent as she passed a teacup to the others. With a heavy sigh, she took a deep sip, then said, “I hope you won’t hold it against Raspberry. She did want to try to see you, but the circumstances surrounding her kidnapping made it rather hard on her.”
Twilight’s tongue felt as dry as sandpaper. She looked down and stared into her tea, idly turning the cup in her hoof. “How did it happen?”
Celestia simply shook her head. “It’s not our place to say, I’m afraid. Just … be patient with her, please.”
A treacherous part of Twilight’s mind began to play insidious games with what facts she knew. Raspberry Quartz was trying, as Celestia said. And Cadence and Shining Armor knew the Seekers would never hurt them or move to take action against them as Chrysalis had—nor aid them.
But wouldn’t Celestia and Luna have assured Raspberry of that already?
Of course they would have, she scolded herself. Twilight tried to beat back her anxieties, that pesky voice that so refused to leave her be. Her aunts wouldn’t be so cold to ignore a subject’s fears and force them into a situation that worsened them so.
There was something deeper at play within her friend. Something that had taken hold, even though Raspberry had tried to move past them.
“I’ll give her as much space and time as she needs,” Twilight said at last, a pained smile spread across her features. “Thank you for letting me know.”
Luna offered a sad smile. “Of course.” As quickly as it came, her smile was gone. In its place, a solemn frown. “To business, though, my dear. There are certain things that must be addressed before the gala this evening.” With a sniff, she added, “And before we allow the general assembly a chance to speak with you.”
Her chitinous, mulberry ears twitching, Twilight set her cup down on the saucer Celestia had so kindly slid into place on the coffee table. “What might those be?”
“You speak as if you know their Queen, little one,” Luna replied. Her face, typically so alight with mischief, took on a more calculative expression. It was one Twilight knew was reserved for dignitaries and troublesome politicians. “Celestia and I have known the Seekers as long as your parents have ruled. Not once have we heard of our attacker beyond your mother’s terms for wielding Magic.”
“Upon some reflection, her terms implied some foreknowledge of her intent,” Celestia added. “We both hoped you might shed some light on the subject.”
Ah.
Twilight’s tongue felt dry all over again. She let her eyes fall to the floor as she considered her next words. Her friend, or her surrogate family?
Why couldn’t this be more like the other challenges she’d faced? Things were so much simpler when she was the one sowing confusion as she escaped with some pilfered tomes. The tatzelwurm infestation would’ve been preferable, or dealing with that gryphon warlord when he realized she’d tricked him out of some old curse books.
She sighed heavily and murmured, “Her name is Chrysalis. She’s been the queen of her hive for the last century or so, and is an admitted changeling supremacist.” Slowly, the young princess began to massage the bridge of her snout. “We’ve been friends since I was little.”
Celestia gave a low hum. “Not just a predator, but a supremacist, you say?”
Twilight nodded, grimacing as she looked up to meet their eyes. “She … her ideals go back to the time before the Founders unified the tribes and you imprisoned Discord. Survival of the fittest, the top of the food chain are superior to those below. Ponies serving changeling masters as food and, well, slaves.” At the dark looks which crossed her aunts’ faces, she held up a hoof. “Among the Queens, she’s a radical. They’ve managed to steer her away from going after larger prey, as she’d call it, before, but she made it no secret she found the state of things—” her eyes flitted to Silín’s.
“She tried convincing Princess Twilight to champion her cause in an assembly of the royals,” Silín supplied in her blunt manner. “That was four years ago. Queen Sireadh Firinn was apoplectic, as were Queens Miriam and Morrigan. She was told that her hive would be cast out if she moved forward with her ambitions. The intent, if I had to guess, was to call her bluff and give her time to mull being cut off from the rest of our kind before the next gathering.”
“That was the last time I saw her,” Twilight added. “When she left, I thought she might take her hive across the sea to Oceania to feed on the roos and just be alone for a time …”
It was all she could do not to turn away at the memory playing through her mind. That scene was too visible, even today.
An exchange she’d hoped to bury and take to her grave.
But now, she lived in a time where that exchange had been more than just an angry, prideful Queen scorned by her fellows venting to a dear friend. It was one one where her friend’s designs had failed and in doing so had sent ripples throughout the changeling communities.
Celestia’s hoof traced a circle in her cushion, her frown still in place. “Her zealotry is something we cannot hold against all changelings, Luna.”
“Indeed.” Luna closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, blowing it out slowly through her nose. “And I suppose we were not warned explicitly due to some sense of unity, little one.”
Wincing, Twilight nodded. “The hives try to stay out of fighting one another. Moving overtly against one is a slight against all. We did act in some unison to warn you when we heard whispers. We just hoped it would prove to be a false report.” She wished she had something a bit stronger to drink. “Obviously, our hope was misplaced.”
The comment earned a snort from Luna and a ghost of a wry smile from Celestia. The sisters fixed her with pitying looks.
“As every ruler has said when embroiled in a conflict they so longed to avoid,” Luna replied, warmth returning to her voice. “Thank you for answering as best you could. The information offers some insight, and a bit of comfort knowing this is indeed an outlier.”
“And that the other Queens stand against her in some capacity.” Celestia took up her teacup once more and drained it. She gave a little nod toward Twilight’s. “Let’s move onto something more pleasant, for now. Then I believe that some rest will serve you well before we let you loose into the herd.”
Though her carapace itched at the thought and instinct demanded that she assume her favored pony guise, Twilight managed a smile.
The tea, at least, gave her some solace with its warmth.