//------------------------------// // The Siren Song of Sweetie Belle // Story: Rhythm and Rhyme // by MyHobby //------------------------------// The Buttercup’s Folly washed into the Manehattan Harbor to a chorus of cheers from the family and friends onshore. Sweetie Belle spotted Rarity and her parents—her father hung out over the water, nearly dropping himself in headfirst. They blew kisses, which Sweetie returned with gusto. Sailors and soldiers scrambled to secure the ship. The gangplank lowered, the crowds barely kept back by the stalwart efforts of the Guardsponies on the pier. Sweetie stepped off the ship and onto dry land. She was immediately smothered by her mother, embraced and practically dragged off her hooves back to her family. She didn’t mind the affection at all. It had been all she could think about all day long. With the four of them together, it was warm. It was cozy. It was home. She lifted her head for a breath and saw a similar situation playing out between Button and his parents. His father sniffled as he hugged his son, trying and failing to keep his fake moustache in place. His mother remained inconsolable, alternating between kissing her son and scolding him for never giving them updates. Button took it all in stride, his face the very definition of relieved. Apple Bloom danced with her young niece Cinnamon while Applejack, Bic Mac, and Cheerilee sang a welcome home song. Twilight Sparkle flew up to hug her and whisper in her ear. Apple Bloom nodded with a frown. She continued dancing with Cinnamon while Twilight went to hug Princess Luna. Aboard the ship, Blankety Blank hobbled out of the infirmary, supported on either side by Care and Martial. They went to the ship’s rail and watched quietly, a smile not far from any face. “Sweetie Belle!” An orange-coated pegasus fluttered overhead on purple wings. “Sweetie! Apple Bloom!” Sweetie’s heart leaped in her chest. She pulled away from her parents and Rarity, muttered an apology and a promised return, and raced towards Scootaloo. The skinny pegasus met her halfway with a lighthearted tackle and a bundle of laughter. The clomp of hooves came from behind Sweetie, and the both of them were scooped up by Apple Bloom in a pony-sized group hug. Sweetie’s glasses fell from her nose as she hugged her friends close. “I love you guys so much.” “Love you, too, Sweetie.” Scootaloo nuzzled the others. “Love you, too, Bloom. ’Bout time you got back safe.” “Choo-choo!” Rainbow Dash led the Apples and the Belles in a procession to surround the three young mares. “Feels train comin’ through! Step right up and take a number for your special time with your daughter-slash-sister! The Heroes of Equestria!” Scootaloo jumped onto Rainbow’s back and ruffled her many-colored mane. “Yeah, yeah. Spread the love. It’s been forever since we haven’t been in mortal peril. We need a sec.” “Y’know what?” Applejack pulled off her hat and laid it across her chest. “This calls for a super-special welcome home dinner for the families at the Apple Farm.” She winked at Rainbow. “You’re invited, too, Dash.” “As if you could keep me away.” “You got it.” Applejack secured the hat on her head, adjusting it a couple of times before it settled right. “So who’s up for a one-way ticket back to Ponyville?” Sweetie stepped away from Apple Bloom. She looked back to the ship, a small frown on her face. “There’s something I need to do first.” “What’s that, Sugarcube?” “Make it right.” A cart rolled down the gangplank, filled with dozens of hearts. Their life shone brightly as they laid nestled within cushions and blankets. The crowd parted as the cart was pulled by strong guardsponies. Just ahead, behind the happy families, stood a group of two-hundred-odd ponies, all gazing passionlessly at the proceedings. No heart beat within their chests. Their color was muted to shades of gray. They had no thought, save that which was demanded of them. Sweetie Belle glanced at Button. He smiled at her, giving her a reassuring nod. Sweetie stood between the heartless ponies and their missing souls. She took a deep breath in and softly let it out as a song. “Reach for my hoof I’ll lead the way Back to your home The land of yesterday “We will find peace We will find love Dance on the ground below Watching stars above” The hearts came to life. One by one, they lifted upon currents of their own magic, ablaze with their own unique living color. The hearts flew and swirled around the docks, leaving trails of fairy dust in their wake. “Painful sighs Turbulent times Fragile as porcelain “Body, soul Will be made whole So you can live again” “Journey long To hear my song And though our world is uncertain There is beauty in a heart shared with a friend” A heart twinkled and flew to the chest of a soulless pony. The mare gasped, clutching at her throat. Her breath came in a rush, near hyperventilation, until intelligence returned to her eyes. She realized where she was. She felt the soul blazing within her body. Her fear turned to instant joy, tears pouring unrestrained down her face even as she laughed aloud. “The darkness moans Their force thrown Into a disarray… “We’re not alone How we’ve grown Our freedom won this day” More hearts found their owners. Ponies of every tribe. Mares and stallions. Elders and children. The celebration grew with each heartbeat returned. Sweetie Belle’s mind’s eye saw her and Button seated side-by-side on the ship back home. He turned to her, holding her hoof in his. They had a theory, the two of them. A hypothesis that Sweetie was testing that very moment. If she had the power to capture hearts, maybe she had the power to set them free. “As I sing out You’ll be set free Rise from your bow Brush the dust off of your knees “Come celebrate Our jubilee Wipe away every doubt It’s just you and me” The crowd surged towards Sweetie Belle, cheering up a storm. They surrounded her, laughing and dancing. Young fillies and colts hugged her legs. Hugs were exchanged as families were reunited. “Thank you, Sweetie!” “I can breathe again!” “I missed you!” “Free at last! Free at la-ha-ha-hast!” “Three cheers for Miss Belle!” “You gave us hope!” “You led us out of the dark!” “Can I have your autograph?” The train was boarded in short order. Food was served to all as they journeyed through Equestria. Many left at the various stops, having finally been returned home. Each goodbye was tearful and thankful as they shared their gratitude to Sweetie Belle. And to the others, of course, but a special thanks was given for giving them some semblance of comfort when their souls were stolen. At the end of the day, when the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Sweetie fell asleep across a bench, propped up between the also-snoozing Scootaloo and Applebloom. A small smile touched her lips as sweet dreams led her home. *** Button Mash walked into his smallish house in downtown Ponyville, rested from his nap on the train. He flicked on the lights, and found home to be just as dingy and disarrayed as when he’d left. The food in the refrigerator had probably—no, definitely—spoiled. His bedding hadn’t been washed. His bathroom hadn’t been cleaned… He opened his saddlebags and set his Joyboy on the table. He hadn’t turned it on once during the adventure. He hadn’t had the copious amounts of downtown he’d originally expected. He flicked it on and was rewarded with a joyous jingle as the game started up. Glorious early nine-hundred eighties pixel animation greeted his eyes. A young filly named Epona found herself thrown into a quest for which she were not prepared, but still succeeded in victoriously vanquishing evil. And that’s where Epona’s story ended. That’s where she ceased to exist. Button dug through his belongings and found a block of wood. A kit with various carving tools lay beside it, along with a small box of paint and brushes. Button placed it all on the table and sat down. He carved for hours, separating the wood into several pieces. First, four cloven hooves took shape. Then a chitin-armored body. All eight segments of legs needed to be done individually, including the upper and lower portions. Next, a tail spiraled with waves and curls. He set them aside and stared for a long time at the blocks reserved for the head and wings. He spent the longest time on these fine details. Getting the muzzle just right. Making the eyes soft, yet with an air of strong determination. Creating veins in the wings. He had a book beside him with pictures of changelings, for a point of reference. Antennae and a craggy horn sat atop the puppet’s head, beside pointed ears. Then came the painting session. Black was the most populous color, of course, but he did not neglect the blue and green in the eyes. The mane and tail were green, giving it his best guess as to the actual hue. The wings he did in pale blue, with silver paint in the veins so that they would pop onstage. The next day, he’d take the pieces to Dinky so that she could assemble it and link it to a control yoke. The puppet could be given life in the next play he presented… however long it would take to iron out the story. River Cicada lay before him, staring at him with those eyes that sought to protect her people so dearly. He took a prop from his shelf: A purple crown with a six-pointed star embedded in it. He placed it beside the head and sighed. “Stories don’t end when they end, do they?” His door rattled with a familiar, rhythmic knock. His ears perked up. “It’s open, Rumble.” Rumble poked his head in. He limped on his cast, stepping into the tiny house. “Yo, you mind a little company? Got some guys who wanna say hi.” “Really?” Button hoisted himself to his feet and hastily washed the sawdust and paint from his forelegs. “Are you sure you’re up for visitors? You look like a chew toy.” “Button, my man, I’ve been cooped up for days on end. I have not been able to so much as scratch my dock without pain. I am good and ready to break out of the gloom and doom and drink way too much coffee.” “That’s the Rumble we know and tolerate,” said a voice from outside. Snips waved from behind the muscular stallion, much smaller than Rumble despite his considerable girth. “So when are you gonna invite us on an adventure? You gotta save some of the epic battles and beautiful ladies for the rest of us!” “Is that what I was doing?” Button bumped Snips’ hoof. He held the door open for the fourth stallion to step in. “Problem was, most of the pretty girls were trying to kill me.” “Really?” “It was like sixty-forty.” Pipsqueak clapped a hoof on Button’s back, winking with his patch-furred eye. “We’re just glad to see you back spit spot, wot wot! And in one piece; I’d call that a resounding victory.” Pain shot through his body as a hard hoof hit harder bruises. “You sure about that whole ‘one piece’ thing?” “Unless you’re missing something unmentionable,” Snips said. He plopped a bag of groceries on the table, careful to avoid the work-in-progress puppet. “You mind clearing a path, dude?” “Sure.” Button carefully placed the parted-out River in a box lined with fabric. He placed it on the shelf where the pony version had once sat. He reentered the kitchen-slash-dining room and found a smorgasbord of small edible treats laid out for the four of them. “Holy cow! I can’t tell you how much I missed just plain cheese and crackers.” Pipsqueak placed a slice of Pepper Jack on a wheat cracker. “Only the best for you, Button. So, what happened? Care to regal us of the tales of your exploits? Daring duels? Frantic firefights? Radical rescues? Is it true that you killed the actual real-life Ahuizotl yourself?” Button snorted. He took a seat and rested his head on his hoof. “It’s a long story. A really, really long story.” Snips piled three levels of crackers and cheese atop each other. He tried and failed to down it in a single bite. “So spill. We’re all ears.” Button looked around the table at the three friends. He smiled, taking a bite of one of the milder cheeses. “I’ll tell you the tale, but only if you also join me for a couple of rounds of Maniacal Melee on the Famicolt 64.” Rumble leaned forward, putting his weight on his good foreleg. “Throw in a late-night game of Go-Cart Apocalypse 3 and you’ve got yourself a deal.” *** Queen Chrysalis II touched a hoof to the boundary pillar at the edge of the old changeling city. The thick jungle air felt good against her carapace, leaking into the seams like water running down her back. Light shone through the leaves, decorating the ground with a brilliant green. Princess Celestia stepped around the pillar to pull a tangle of vines aside. A cliff appeared before her, which overlooked a pyramid in the midst of the jungle. The stepped structure had a crumbled, decayed pinnacle, which probably held a sun device at one time or another. Time and the rage of revolting slaves had left it naught but ruins. The princess walked up to the edge of the cliff, guided by Daring Do’s company of explorers. She offered a hoof to Chrysalis and led her down on magic-laden wings. It was a quick flight to the pyramid, and a quick climb down to the depths of the changeling city. The clockwork innards of the walls and ceiling churned, deep and constant. Light came from the panels overhead. The carved bridges and walkways of the city were covered in dust, but otherwise unaffected by the passage of time. Rooms could be seen built into the walls. Passageways and tunnels lay dark, beckoning Chrysalis forth in their own mysterious, unknowable way. Princess Celestia stepped into the entryway of the city. “It seems we made it here at last, Chrysalis.” “Yeah.” Chrysalis stepped forward, careful to avoid the bronze panel on the floor. If it contacted her changeling magic, there was no telling what would happen. “The report said there were murals on the wall?” “That would be in the throne room.” A soldier, Sturm, took a ladder to the lower level of the city. “Follow me.” Celestia, and Chrysalis flew behind him, keeping their pace slow and sedate. There was no rush for any of them. Soldiers combed out in their wake, spreading throughout the city to make sure any threats were taken care of. No threats emerged. No Strutters made their move. No antlike automatons attacked. All was quiet, save for the rumbling of gears. Sturm and his partner Drang pulled open the doors of the throne room. A large golden throne sat at the center of the round room. Immediately, Chrysalis could see the murals depicting the ancient changelings and their history. Fairies battled with outmatched soldiers. Homes were devastated. Lives were changed forever at the end of the First Age. But then River Cicada appeared, and the Second Age began. Six changelings, five wearing necklaces and the sixth a crown, stood before the Lord of the Unseelie Court and cast him into the Abyss. If only their history had stopped there. Magic hummed above the seat of the throne. Spirals of sparks twirled their way through the air, casting a green glow on Chrysalis. She stumbled back. Sturm and Drang hefted their spears as lines of green magic traced an outline through the air. Legs appeared, then a thin torso, which was topped by a head and knife-thin wings. The deposed queen of the changelings sat before them, in all her ghostly glory. Celestia lowered her head and lit her horn with a spell. “River Cicada? Alive?” Sturm stabbed the ghost in the chest. He met no resistance save for a slight flicker in the image. He swished the weapon back and forth, parting her magic like ripples in a river. He licked his lips and drew back his spear. “What do you want?” River’s voice was not heard by ear, but through the heart. It echoed in Chrysalis’ consciousness, chilling her to the bone. “Why have you come to this place?” Chrysalis frowned. When she’d spoken to River before, it had been a strong, solid, commanding voice. One used to being obeyed. Now, though, she sounded tired. “I came to see the city. I wanted… confirmation that the changelings had indeed wielded the Elements of Harmony.” “Yes. We did.” The image fell out of alignment with itself as it nodded, the head separating from the body. “I was the first Bearer of the Element of Magic. The Creator himself gave me the relics.” “You were on the Hesperus Mactans,” Celestia said. “That ship was destroyed. How could you have survived?” The ghost looked at Celestia for a long, excruciating moment. She looked back at Chrysalis, her shoulders drooping. “I was never on that ship. I had never left this city. I projected my consciousness utilizing the changeling technology that spans from this city to all our former homes.” Celestia stepped forward with a frown. “That sort of power would strain an alicorn, let alone—” “Tell this pony to be silent.” Cicada bent low to put her head at Chrysalis’ level. “Please.” The ghost faded from view. The glimmering green sparks danced around the throne before the image was able to return. Cicada pawed at the air. “I failed, Chrysalis the Second. I failed us all. I could not return the changelings to their former glory.” The various lines that made up the crude silhouette pulled apart from each other, bending and twisting in indiscernible patterns. “You are our last hope. Take the Spade of Hearts and rebuild. Rebuild our empire, Chrysalis.” “I refuse.” Chrysalis’ cheeks heated up as she found all other eyes on her. “I will not rebuild your empire, Cicada. I will restore the changelings. I will bring our people back into the light. But I will not do so as you did.” She lowered her head so that she didn’t have to look at the ancient queen. “The dagger is going to be destroyed. I alone made this decision.” River Cicada vanished into a cloud of sparks. Her voice groaned deep within Chrysalis’ soul. “Then you have killed us all. Henceforth, you shall be called Chrysalis, the Last Queen of the Changelings.” Chrysalis brushed aside her blue mane. “Even now, you still think murder and subjugation is the only way to restore us? That is why you failed, Cicada. That is why your empire shall never be.” The sparks rested on the seat of the throne. They sat there, flickering, until they extinguished one by one. Chrysalis stepped closer and put her hoof on the throne. A jolt of magic snapped at her hoof, sending pain up through her foreleg. She sucked on the injury as Sturm and Drang readied their spears. They stood over her, protecting her from further harm. The golden throne came apart. Panels fell away. The bronze-colored joints within folded up like an accordion. The seat opened up, and a pedestal rose. Nestled within was a green heart, beating slowly and weakly, its light barely casting a shadow. The light faded to black, and the heart crumbled to dust. The gears in the city walls slowed, then stopped. The lights dimmed until all that lit the city was the magic of Celestia’s horn and the glow of Royal Guard armor. Celestia rubbed the scar across her chest. “She failed because she tried to do it alone.” Chrysalis gazed at the scar, then turned to the remains of River’s heart. Celestia’s normally kind, calm face had faded in the wake of the ancient queen’s death. Chrysalis could feel a certain degree of dread in the princess’ emotions. As if she gazed into a mirror and didn’t like what she saw. If Chrysalis was honest with herself, she felt much the same. They walked out of the throne room and closed the door behind them. It was now a mausoleum, rather than a city. A monument to changelings long gone. “I should return to Canterlot,” Chrysalis the Last Queen said. “This place is not fit to be the changeling home.” She looked to Celestia, who seemed to be at a loss for words. “I need to speak with my father and his wife. And… could you arrange a meeting with Mand—Blankety Blank?” “Of course, Chrysalis.” Celestia cleared her throat and set off at a trot, her eyes kept level to the horizon. “It will be no trouble at all.” *** Chrysalis the Last Queen walked through the Canterlot Castle gardens, her father close behind. Shining Armor watched his eldest daughter closely, as if trying to read her thoughts. But he was no changeling; as long as she kept her face firm, he could no sooner decipher her inner workings than he could fly. On the other hand, his thoughts were loudly broadcast. His and Cadence’s both. He knew why she wanted to talk, even if he wasn’t sure of her reasons. That’s what the conversation was about. That’s what she would lay to rest. His doubts. “I have something important to tell you,” she said quietly. “You can tell me anything.” “I know.” Chrysalis sat on a bench in front of a large tree. The branches blossomed with beautiful flowers, though their petals had already begun to drop. Shining Armor sat beside her, while Cadence faced them, her resting spot a soft patch of grass. Chrysalis looked up at her father. His kind, blue eyes matched her own so well. As well as any of his children. “I have to leave Equestria.” Shining Armor frowned, his answer ready. “No, you don’t. You can have a home here. I can finally protect you, Chrysalis. We can be a family.” “I have other responsibilities.” The chitin on Chrysalis’ face squeaked as she brought her eyebrows together. “My first family will always be the changelings. They are my priority. Their safety is my greatest duty. Unless Thorax’s tribe can be found, we are the last of my species. I have to do what’s best for them. I have to lead them on the road to recovery.” “That’s why you need to stay here.” Shining Armor stood up and trotted out a small circle in front of her bench. “Here, we can offer you security and space to grow. Cadence, Luna, Celestia, and Twilight can all help you to be a better ruler.” “That would be true…” Chrysalis turned her eyes on Cadence. “If I agreed with their politics.” Cadence blinked rapidly. She looked back and forth between her husband and the queen. “What is she talking about?” “The night you saved my life,” Chrysalis said, “you did so at the cost of another’s life.” Cadence spread her wings slightly. It was an unconscious movement, an unintentional intimidation tactic. An untrained response. “And I would gladly trade many more lives for yours. You’re important to our family, Chr—” She stumbled over the name, but was just able to make it out without shuddering. “Chrysalis. You are under our protection.” “You did not trade a life for mine, Cadence.” Chrysalis lowered her wings and raised her head. With the height of the bench, she just beat out the tip of Cadence’s horn for altitude. “You rescued me, sure enough. You disarmed my attacker handily. But then… you killed him. You killed him out of revenge.” Cadence stood up, all attempts at diplomacy gone. “Excuse me? That stallion was a threat to my family. He harmed my children. If you think for a moment that I would allow him to—” “I know,” Chrysalis sighed. She let her wings droop as her hind legs dangled over the edge of the bench. “I’m sorry.” Shining lay beside Cadence, his face more serious than she had ever seen him. “Please explain yourself, Chrysalis.” Chrysalis the Last Queen bobbed her head. She rubbed her foreleg until a hole caught her cloven hoof. “When I was five… that was the year Chrysalis the Tyrant, my mother, launched her attack on Thorax’s tribe with her half-tribe of scattered changelings. A young changeling known as Mandible was my caretaker. He was the only creature who was kind to me for my entire childhood up to that point. Most considered me a half-breed, sired by pony blood. They didn’t know that my destiny was to become queen.” Chrysalis was unable to hide her flattening ears as the memories played themselves out in her mind’s eye. “My mother refused to correct them. She figured it would toughen me up. But it just made me miserable.” A lump formed in her throat. Years of pain and frustration longed to burst through the surface, but she forced it down. “Mandible spoke of Thorax’s tribe. How they always had enough love. How they had a strong friendship with the dragons and the ponies. How if only Thorax was our king, everything would be fine.” She kept her eyes on Cadence. The princess listened closely, but Chrysalis could taste the emotions of her thought process. Every thought was tainted by defensiveness. By a self-assurance that she was in the right. Chrysalis couldn’t pierce such resolve, not against such a strong heart. Still, she had to trek onward. “The night of the final battle, my mother found out that Mandible planned to defect and take me with him. She sent a squad of her most vicious soldiers to murder him during the battle. While the war raged around us, she gloated to me how they tore him to bits, ripped his wings apart, poked his eyes out. In the middle of her laughing fit, I found I could take it no more. I snatched a spear from a nearby guard and thrust it right into her heart.” Chrysalis choked. She felt the blade enter her mother’s carapace. She saw the utter shock, the betrayal on her mother’s face. Her mother’s final words were a muttered curse, followed by a blood-drowned gasp. “The sight of my mother’s corpse… I couldn’t move. I couldn’t react. I had utterly drained myself of any motivation. If Commander Bugly hadn’t abandoned the battle to rescue me, I would have perished in Equestria’s reprisal attack.” Tears fell from her eyes. The sting of hatred long since grown cold ached in her chest. “I took revenge on her then and there. I repaid her for what she did to Mandible. And it left me broken. I didn’t speak for two years. I had to be force fed. Eventually, I realized that the changelings with me were my family, and my responsibility. That helped me break out of my self-destructive loop…” Chrysalis stood on the bench, wiping her cheek dry. “I reflected on myself. I reflected on why I killed her. I realized that I had just done exactly what my mother had taught me all those years. Take revenge. Destroy all your enemies. Leave their bones in the dust.” She raised her head and looked into Cadence’s soul through her eyes. The defenses were getting ready for a counterattack. “I can’t let my changelings grow up in an environment like that.” Cadence took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She spoke softly, and Chrysalis had to lean closer to hear. “You’re comparing me to your mother, but our situations are not the same. I killed him to protect you. To protect Flurry, and Amore, and Lance. I would never hurt an innocent person.” The changeling queen shook her head at the pony princess. “If anyone else—anypony else—had killed a prisoner, they would be sent to prison themselves.” Cadence’s breath grew short. She looked to her husband, who hugged her close. She attempted to speak, thought better of it, and shut her eyes. Chrysalis lowered her ears. “But you haven’t been, nor will you ever be. You won’t be held accountable for your actions. In Equestria, you are above the law.” She stepped off the bench and walked close to Cadence. She looked up at the princess, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. “You were right when you said you were nothing like my mother. You are like the pony you see as your mother: Celestia. She would travel from kingdom to kingdom, murdering their leaders whenever they did something evil. She didn’t seek peace, or change. She destroyed. The griffon king, Berkut. The diamond dog chief, Wulf. Both deaths left their kingdoms lost in violence for generations.” Her head drooped, her strength having left her. The Last Queen fell to her rump and hunched in the shadow of the prince and princesses. “It’s a path I can’t follow in Equestria. I can’t raise my people up in the world Celestia created.” Shining Armor couldn’t speak, but his emotions broadcast his pain fervently. He stayed at his wife’s side, supporting her fully. Good. That was good. They needed each other. Cadence, her face the very picture of exhaustion and dismay, spoke quietly. “Where will you go?” Chrysalis was able to sit up a little straighter. This, she was sure of. This, she knew, was a good thing. “King Andean needs changelings to help him control his sun device. With this chance, changelings can make the world a better place for the first time in two-thousand years.” “Good for you,” Shining croaked. He touched a hoof to her shoulder. “Good.” When he didn’t pull the hoof away, Chrysalis tilted her head. He had something brewing beneath the surface, but it was too complex to boil down to a single emotion. “But?” “You are wrong about one thing.” Shining Armor lowered his head to her level. “We hold each other accountable.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t understand.” “We all need someone to hold us accountable.” He touched a hoof to Cadence’s shoulder. “Cadence holds me accountable. She keeps me in check. She makes sure I’m making good choices. She keeps me on the straight and narrow. And I do the very same thing for her.” He looked at his wife eye-to-eye. She rested her forehead against his. Cadence spoke, her throat dry. “If we make a mistake, we work together to overcome it. We remind each other of what we need to do, and what we need to avoid. With the power we all have… the mistakes are huge. And the consequences are equally so.” Shining gave his wife a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Twilight has her friends to keep her accountable… mostly Spike, but also the other Bearers. Luna has her sister and Twilight. Celestia… I don’t know if Luna gets through to her, but she tries.” He brushed the mane out of Chrysalis’ eyes. He wanted to smile, but the best he could manage was to lighten his dour frown. “We grow beyond our mistakes. Little by little. We’re all imperfect, but together, we can help each other improve.” Chrysalis the Last Queen sniffled. She gasped as she fought back tears. “I… I think I can do the most improving in… in Felaccia…” Shining pulled his eldest daughter to his chest. He let his tears fall in her mane as hers dampened his coat. “Then go. But know that you always have a home here.” Cadence hugged the both of them with gentle wings. Chrysalis felt the princess’ eyes on her. There was a slight sourness to the flavor of her emotions, just as it had been the first day they’d met. But overpowering it was the same sweet, sugary warmth Shining Armor felt. The same one she felt when her own children were near. Was it love? Despite everything? Whatever it was… it felt nice. *** Blankety Blank stood at the edge of the Manehattan docks. It had been three months since he’d returned, and he’d spent the time recuperating in the best hospitals Celestia could provide. His chitin had regrown on an equal footing to the changelings injured in the attack on the castle. Even now, he could see Commander Bugly strutting up the gangplank with three hooves intact—he didn’t seem slowed by as-yet not-regrown limb. Three months prior, a ship had carried Blankety back from Felaccia. Now, the same ship was set to sail back, this time holding the Last Queen of the Changelings. Not just her, though. Her entire tribe of one-hundred changelings had arrived from the Badlands to make their new home in the mountainous kingdom of the griffons. Maybe they would find the ability to grow. Maybe they could restore the world’s view of them as a species and a people. If Blankety Blank was truly honest with himself… he hoped they would. “Mandible?” Blankety turned at the sound of his name. Queen Chrysalis stood behind him, finally free of the disguise she’d had when they’d last spoken. It had been so long since that night at the gala. It had been far longer since they’d been in the tribe. Seven years, in fact. Nearly eight. A flurry of emotions crossed the twelve-year-old queen’s face. Some anxious, some pained, some happy. She settled for a sort of uneasy peace, like two neighboring nations that never got along. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” “I had to.” Blankety Blank frowned, his ears falling limp at the sides of his head. “I couldn’t l-let… l-l-let…” He took a deep breath in, held it for a moment, and let it hiss out his nose. “I couldn’t let things stay the way they were. I need to apologize.” Her blue mane drooped over one of her eyes as she bowed her head. He rubbed his disguised mane, which was a pale blond. “I m-may… I may hate myself, but I need you to know that I could never hate you. I know you’ll rescue the changelings from the state they’re in. I know you’ll become the greatest queen who ever lived. I’ve always known that.” He rubbed his nose to stave off the tears building behind his eyes. “I wish I could help you, but…” “It’s okay, Mandible.” Chrysalis reached out to grab his hoof. She held it tight, as if for dear life. “I’m sorry for what I said. I’m so glad you’re alive. But I do still miss you. I wish there was some way to convince you to come. But I know there isn’t. I understand how you feel. It’s okay that you can’t.” She raised her head to look him in the eye, at long last. “I can tell by the way you act with Martial Paw and Captain Carrot. You are so much happier here.” She let his hoof go. She glanced around at the skyline of Manehattan, her eyes taking on a distant look. “You belong here… Mr. Blankety Blank.” He walked around until he could stand in front of her. He touched her chin. “And I know this: No matter what Cicada said; no matter what your mother did; you will not be the last queen.” The two of them hugged at the edge of the harbor. They broke it off all too soon, Chrysalis headed to her ship, and Blankety headed back to Care’s family’s house at the edge of the city limits. The Buttercup’s Folly sailed across the sea to its foreign destination, carrying the future of the changelings to its land of hope. *** Daring Do threw a punch that knocked Typhoon aside. Tick Tock used the opportunity to run at the gemstone secure in the pedestal. The temporal distortion around the time portal caused him to slow in his movements, until he reached little more than a crawl. Martial Paw plucked away at Daring Do’s typewriter. He had finished the final chapter the day before, but the confrontation between Daring, Tick, and their foe Typhoon hadn’t sat right with him. He’d tossed the pages into the fire and started anew. It had been a long three months working on the story. Daring Do’s final tale. She had left it incomplete, but there were those willing to finish it for her. Rainbow Dash had penned a few chapters. Twilight Velvet as well. Princess Twilight Sparkle had offered her opinion here and there. But here and now? It was up to Martial to give Daring the send-off she deserved. He held Daring’s silver pocket watch in his palm. He flicked it open to look at her smiling face, alongside that of her husband. Time Turner flashed Martial a glittering grin. More than ever before, the two of them were together at last. His writing reflected that. As a grand finale to the series, Daring Do the character finally settled down with Tick Tock, the love of her life. The time traveling plot of the villainous Typhoon was halted, and the dastardly actions of Ahuizotl were stopped once and for all. A cameo of nearly all of Daring’s companions throughout the series made an appearance. Spectra, the quick and perilous racing pegasus. Nameless, the friendly yet dangerous changeling. Strict Beakly, the curmudgeonly, honorable griffon warrior. Evening Corduroy, the museum director and constant source of fun and frustration. Rainbow Dash, Blankety Blank, Martial Paw, Twilight Velvet… and so many more. Martial pulled the finished page from the typewriter. He looked it over with a series of sighs. Spelling mistakes abounded, as they had for the entire writing process. Sentence structure, punctuation, paragraph formation, all would be tweaked and rearranged by Velvet. She was, ultimately, the one who would pull all the varied parts together to make a cohesive whole. Martial bundled up the manuscript. It made for a weighty tome. He draped the pocket watch’s silver chain around his neck and hid the watch in his coat. He strapped the scabbard of his third-favorite rapier to his belt, and tucked the Turner volleygun into the far side. He hoisted the manuscript onto his back and left the guest bedroom. Care Carrot’s parents had been gracious when they offered to let him and Blankety stay for the past few months. Theirs was a large farmhouse at the edge of the City of Manehattan, the centerpiece of a vast carrot farm. If he looked out the window, he could see the skyline framed by a sunset. Care’s young brother, Sprout, passed him on the way down the hall. Martial ruffled the colt’s mane. “Is your big sis around?” “I’ve got three, Mr. Paw,” Sprout said, his mouth quirked in a vaguely punchable smile. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.” “I suppose I walked into that one.” Martial narrowed his eyes and allowed the colt a smirk. “Touché. Very well; your second oldest sister, Care.” “Yeah, she and Blank are gettin’ ready for a walk into town.” Sprout craned his neck to see over Martial’s comparatively-tall flanks. “What’s that? That novel you’ve been workin’ on?” “One and the same.” Martial gently brushed past him to take the stairs to the ground floor. “I’ll see you when we get back, Sprout. Then… the reckoning.” “You got that right,” Sprout said, cupping his mouth with his hooves. “I’m gonna whoop you so bad you won’t even be able to read your cards this time!” “Not with the deck I’ve got,” Martial muttered to himself. It was Sprout’s own fault for allowing Martial to build his own deck of Friendship: The Assembly cards with his extras. The game was practically over before it began. Martial stepped into the living room. Care lifted her head from the letter she was reading. Her ears leaped to alertness as she smiled. “Marty! Got the book done?” “Insofar as the first—er—second draft goes.” Martial looked to the couch beside Care. Blankety Blank rested amid the cushions, his countenance defeated. He gave Martial the requisite smile, but rested his chin back down a moment later. Martial rubbed the disguised changeling’s back. “How’d the meeting with the queen go?” “Amazing, really.” Blankety let out a low chuckle. “Much better than I could have hoped.” Martial nodded. “But you miss her?” “Yeah. I do.” Blank shrugged and nudged his nose towards Care’s letter. “And… there’s that.” “What?” Martial took the letter as it was handed to him. The seal of Princess Celestia coated the top of the document. “When you’re finished with the book,” Care said, stretching her forelegs back. “We’ve got to take on our new assignments.” The letter said as much, ending with a request to report to the princesses at the nearest convenience. Martial passed it back to Care, clicking his beak. “I see. It seems a bit too soon, if I’m honest.” Care’s eyes bounced back and forth between the griffon and the changeling. “Tell you what. Why don’t the three of us go into town, mail the book, and grab a bite to eat. Sound good?” Blank climbed to his hooves and brushed down his coat. “I’m all f-for it.” “I was hoping you’d say so.” Martial Paw stepped outside the front door and allowed his wings to stretch to their full length. Houses were nice, but nothing beat the freedom of open air. The three of them walked into Manehattan proper. Trams rattled by overhead. Taxi carts rushed past. Newscolts sang out the day’s big stories from street corners. It was a mess of ponies, and would only get busier as the night progressed. Martial Paw’s bigger bulk allowed him mostly free range on the crowded sidewalks, but only mostly. Care adjusted her pace to walk beside him, while Blank trailed slightly behind. Living so near Manehattan had made her an expert in being heard in the midst of the crowded street. “So, I hear Celestia went and made you a knight.” “That’s right,” he said. “The Knight of History, taking up the reins where Daring Do left off.” “Yeah? Good.” She quirked an eyebrow, her smile cockeyed. “I’m still kinda miffed I wasn’t invited to the ceremony.” “There wasn’t one. I requested she keep it quiet.” Martial stepped around a particularly pushy newscolt. Care led the three of them down a slightly-calmer street, one that cut through to the post office itself. “Just me, her, and Lady Velvet as a witness.” “Fair enough. Knights of History have a history of keeping things surreptitious.” “I prefer ‘clandestine.’” Martial laughed lightly. “It sounds classier.” “Yeah.” Care bobbed her head. “I’ll give you that. But still, that means you’re going to be leading expeditions all over the world? Investigating ruins, deactivating traps, recovering dangerous artifacts?” “That’s the plan.” Care clicked her tongue. She glanced back to make sure Blankety was keeping up. He smiled and waved. “I guess I just wish we coulda worked together more. It’s rare I run into somebody as bullheaded as I am.” Martial grinned. “I will forcibly take that as a compliment.” “It is, I swear,” Care laughed. “Ah, who knows? Maybe more missions will come up that need multiple Knights of Harmony working together. I know you’re taking Blank with you again, right?” “That’s r-right.” Blankety Blank fell into pace next to Care. He hugged her from the side. ““Which I why I was thinking you should c-come with us.” “Really?” Care glanced between Martial and Blank. Her voice grew higher as a smile made its home on her muzzle. She voiced her doubts, but Martial was pretty sure she was just giving them an excuse to brush them aside. “I’m not exactly the academic type, guys. I don’t know too much about history or archeology or stuff like that.” “No, perhaps not.” Martial tapped his beak with an outstretched talon. “But I do like Mr. Blank’s line of thought. Your combat and security skills would make you an invaluable ally, as always. But more importantly…” Martial gently laid a few feathers across her shoulders. “You are a friend. And that is something precious.” “Aw, shucks.” The red on her cheeks was unmistakable. She turned her eyes up and to the side, sucking in her lips. “Yeah. Yeah, this could work. We could get Twilight Velvet to pull a few strings. Make sure it’s okay with Celestia. I think we could really do this!” She trotted forward with a hoof outstretched. “Three legendary knights on a quest to discover the most forgotten and forbidden of objects! Observe their daring exploits as they brave countless perils! Behold as they fend off their mortal enemies!” She spun on her hind legs and faced them with a devilish grin. “And, of course, I’m still your superior officer.” “Hardly,” Martial said. “I’ve been promoted to colonel.” “Huh?” Care brought her eyebrows together, tilting her head to the side. “Wait, what? Are you even enlisted?” “Of course not.” Martial winked as he walked past her. “I just wanted to see your reaction.” “Har-dee-har, Marty.” Blankety skittered ahead to open the door to the post office. He held it open for them, searching the night sky for the first sign of stars. Finding none in the twilight, he walked in behind them. Martial hefted the manuscript onto the counter. “I’d like to mail this to Ponyville, please. Twilight Velvet, temporary caretaker of the Seeds of Friendship Public Library.” A box, a stamp, and a few bits later, Daring Do and the Edge of Time was on its way to the editor. In a few short months, the final installment of the Daring Do saga would be published posthumously, delivered to the waiting fans. Martial gripped the pocket watch tight. “It’s done, Dr. Do. Rest assured, your work is finally complete.” As they walked out, Blankety stopped them with a hoof. “Wait a s-sec. Look.” He pointed east to the harbor. Two stars twinkled as the sun vanished on the western edge of the horizon. “They appeared recently,” Blank said. “A few w-weeks ago at most. I think… it might be them.” Care sidled up to him and hugged him tight. Martial laid his talons on their shoulders, watching the stars twinkle across the waters. Martial had to admit, there was a sense of familiarity as he looked upon the celestial objects. A spirit of adventure. A drive to explore. A zest for life. The three heroes—the Knight of History, the Knight of Secrets, and the Knight Sentinel—shared a quiet moment of remembrance as the city bustled around them. *** The Cauldron housed the seat of Dragon government, for what little government there was. Dragon Lord Ember ruled from her throne deep in the midst of the caldera volcano. Fiery lava pits and craggy obsidian spires were its décor and aesthetic. Harsh and combative was its people. Loners and warriors. Mythical entities and monsters. The dragons were many things, and most of them were vicious. Spike felt just a little out of place, if he was honest with himself. Always had been, during his visits. Aside from the few he already knew—Ember, Crackle, Garble, Shardscale—the other dragons didn’t really talk with him. He sometimes heard rustling from the bushes, but any time he went to investigate, he found himself completely alone. He soaked himself in a sparkling hot spring on the outskirts of the Cauldron. The minerals in the water attached themselves to his damaged scales, building them back up to their full potential. A full diet of gemstones lent even more strength and security to his body. It was slow going—the hole in his arm had only just closed up completely—but the pain had vanished long ago. It was his shoulder that still had munched-up scales and searing agony. He submerged himself up to his neck and rested his chin on the stone surrounding the spring. There was just enough dry land for him to set a book in front of his nose and read while he recuperated. He had done nothing but read for three months, with only his dragon friends, a weekly visit from Twilight, and the occasional letter to keep him company. It was boring. It was painful. It was lame. His ear twitched at a familiar, yet quite out of place, sound. Hoofsteps. A bunch of them, coming his way. No ponies spent any time around the Cauldron. The very atmosphere was toxic without precautions. Whoever it was had come with a very specific purpose. Spike rose from the water and shielded his eyes from the sun. He saw five ponies. Two earth ponies, two pegasi, and one unicorn. His breath caught in his throat as he realized just who they were. He walked out of the spring and moved towards them. The walk became a run as the ponies quickened their own pace. Spike and the largest earth pony met first. She was a tall mare, with strong muscles from a life of farm work. Her red mane danced about her head as he lifted her up and spun her. He set her back on the ground, and their lips met in a long-awaited kiss. He and Apple Bloom looked into each other’s eyes, unable to speak. They didn’t need to speak. Not just yet. Rumble tackled Spike from above, nearly dragging him to the ground. Scootaloo came from a different angle; her smaller frame didn’t make as much of a physical impact, but quite the emotional one. Button Mash and Sweetie Belle took their turn next, hugging Spike around the middle. “Oh my gosh,” Spike said. “Oh my gosh, I missed you guys so much.” Apple Bloom laid her chin atop his good shoulder. “Missed you, too, partner. Y’all need to heal faster.” “What—what are you all doing here?” Spike slapped his forehead. “Dumb question. How did you all get here?” “Button bought us all train tickets!” Scootaloo reattached a pair of saddlebags she had dropped at the beginning of the initial rush. “Since you’re gonna be healed in a couple of weeks, we figured we’d all camp out at the edge of the Cauldron and hang!” Button Mash giggled as he strapped his tent bag to his back. “I am the resident camping expert.” He shot a glance at Apple Bloom, who gave him a faux stink-eye. “Aside from Apple Bloom, who is the super-camping expert.” Sweetie Belle held up a box with Monopony plastered on the front. A gemstone necklace shimmered a pale green in time with her words. “We brought some of your favorite snacks, your favorite board games, and maybe you can introduce us to your dragon friends!” “Wow.” Spike looped an arm over Rumble’s shoulder. “Wow, you guys are awesome. I can’t even… Thank you so much.” “Come on, dude. What are friends for?” Rumble punched Spike in the chest. He laughed and took to the air, hovering on freshly-healed wings. “So, uh, is that thing safe for ponies?” Spike followed his gaze to the hot spring. He shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not lava-hot. If it was, it’d boil right out of the pool—” “Pool party!” Rumble flew straight for the edge of the water, dipped a hoof in and, finding it satisfactory, jumped butt-first into the spring. He sprayed mineral water from his mouth and floated on his back. “You guys gotta try it! Trust me, it’s awesome!” Apple Bloom tugged Spike’s hoof. “Come on, what’re ya waitin’ for?” Spike and Apple Bloom led the charge to the spring. The six friends swam and splashed, laughing and playing long into the day. A brief break to set up camp, a pause to cook and eat, and a period to dry off broke up the frivolity. At nightfall, they lay on the shore, looking up at a sky full of stars. Even the smoggy atmosphere of the Cauldron couldn’t completely hide the heavens from view. Rumble yawned. “Now this… this is an adventure worth having.” “Yeah.” Button answered the yawn with one of his own. “I could get used to this sort of ‘roughing it.’” “Stop yawning,” Scootaloo yawned. “You’re gonna give me hiccups.” Spike lay beside Apple Bloom, her hoof resting in his palm. “You know what? All these months of healing, practically alone in this pool… it all kinda seems worth it now that you’re here.” “‘All these months?’” Rumble sat up to smirk at Spike. “It’s been like, three, dude.” “That is ‘months.’ All of them, in fact.” Sweetie played with her necklace as she gazed at the sky. “You spent the same amount of time strapped to a brace.” “Touché. Agony is agony.” Rumble rolled onto his stomach. “So we gonna play a game or what? If we play Monopony I call the hat.” “I’m up for a game.” Button heaved himself upright and trotted to the bags. “Is it okay if I’m the boat?” Sweetie sat upright and snuck a candy bar from her saddlebag. “Only if I get to be the carriage!” “Ugh, come on.” Scootaloo threw Spike a lopsided grin. “Do I really have to be the iron again?” “I’ll be the iron, on account of my internal temperature.” Spike sat on his haunches and cleared a dry spot for the board. He looked at each of his friends in turn, one after the other. “Apple Bloom, Rumble, Scootaloo, Button, Sweetie… Thanks. Thank you all for making this happen.” Apple Bloom hugged him from behind, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” *** Sweetie Belle woke up early in the morning. She found her sleeping bag wet with dew, damp and uncomfortable. She rose and quickly ran a comb through her mane and coat. She stepped around the sleeping forms of Scootaloo and Apple Bloom—she knew Bloom at the least wouldn’t be awake for another few hours. She swallowed a quick shot of ambrosia. It rolled through her body on its way to keeping her fit and able. Just before she left the tent, she snatched her gemstone necklace from across the room and fastened it. The air around the Cauldron smelled faintly terrible, but the enchantments protecting her from poisonous gas took the edge off. It was swallowed up by the scent of the forest, with its evergreen trees and its bed of browned pine needles. The hot spring bubbled a few feet away. Birdsong touched the tips of her ears and lifted her spirits. She could hear Rumble snoring in the other tent. Her heart went out to Spike and Button. As well as Scootaloo, if she did end up being his wife someday. Ear plugs were perhaps in order there. A moment’s examination found that Button Mash was not in the boy’s tent. He sat on his haunches at the edge of the hot spring, his hind legs dangling in. He hummed a song. It wasn’t one she recognized, but it was lovely all the same. She approached him, allowing her feet to make enough noise so that she didn’t startle him. He smiled at her approach and patted the ground beside himself. She took the seat gladly and rested her shoulder against his. She kept her voice low so she didn’t disturb the sleepers. “I didn’t know you woke up this early in the morning.” “I can get a lot done before I have to go to work.” Button Mash paddled his hooves, splashing the tingling mineral water. “And I really don’t think I could sleep another wink with Rumble’s thunderous snoring.” “It is a bit much, isn’t it?” Sweetie giggled lightly. She spotted the sun rising above the Cauldron, pulled aloft by Twilight Sparkle’s magic. She and Button watched the sky blaze a bright orange that lit up the smoke pouring from the dragon kingdom’s many volcanoes. “Thank you for bringing us here.” “No problem.” Button smiled, his eyes glancing to her before returning to the artistic canvas of the sky. “It was something we all wanted to do. I think Spike needed it.” “Which brings me to my question.” Sweetie raised one eyebrow and left the other at an inquisitive angle. “How did you afford the trip? Five tickets to the edge of the known world can’t have been cheap.” “Oh, well…” He grinned in a highly unconvincing manner. Much too wide and much to toothy. When Button laughed, he usually only showed his top teeth. His cheeks developed dimples, too, which were not in evidence when he was faking it. “I saved up for it. It was just a couple of weeks’ worth of stuff to set aside.” Sweetie leveled out her lips, sighing through her nose. “Button…” The fake smile fell away, dissolved into the nothing from whence it came. It was replaced with a weary frown, with one side of his mouth pulled back. “I cleaned and repainted the steam engine for Mr. Tracks. He gave me free two-way tickets to anywhere.” Sweetie shook her head slowly. “The whole steam engine?” “It took slightly more than a couple of weeks.” “Button…” Sweetie rested against his shoulder. She clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes back. “When were you going to tell me my boyfriend is a workaholic?” “I wouldn’t say that.” He shrugged the shoulder she wasn’t occupying. “It seemed like a nice thing I could do.” “We would have totally helped you.” Sweetie bounced a curl with a hoof. “I know Scootaloo is an absolutely fantastic painter.” Button smirked. “Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.” She dipped the edge of her tail in the water and flicked droplets at him. “It was very sweet of you. Even if you are an overachiever.” “Yeah.” Button flicked an ear down. “Speaking of overachieving, I have something for you.” Sweetie leaned away from him, giving him a small smile that called happiness from the depths of her heart. “Oh yeah? Hearth’s Warming’s a few months away.” “Well… it’s kinda overdue.” He leaned backwards and gently paddled his hind legs in the pool. “Remember our first date?” “I remember.” She gritted her teeth behind a close-lip smile. “Right up to the point I was knocked unconscious.” “Yeah, but that part happened after the date.” Red spots appeared on his cheeks as a broadcast of his bashfulness. “During the date, we got to talking about songs.” Sweetie glanced over her frameless glasses. “I remember you said you were writing a song.” “Yep.” Her mouth opened with a pop as her heart quickened. “You finished it?” “Mostly.” His chuckle caused warm fuzzies to bubble up in Sweetie’s chest. “Enough to where I’m no longer embarrassed by it. I didn’t really have a chorus yet, so…” He pulled a harmonica out of his sidelong bag. He blew an experimental note. “Do you wanna—?” Sweetie snorted, catching him off guard. “Do you really need to ask?” Button shook his head. He played a slow, simple melody on the harmonica. After a couple of bars, he let the instrument rest against his haunches. He sang low, quietly, so as not to disturb the other campers. Sweetie scooched closer to hear his voice above the rumbling snores of Rumble. “Remember the first time we met? It’s a day I will never forget Your eyes looked into mine A moment so sublime I’ve never had a moment’s regret” “Remember the first time we laughed? Walking down a bright rosy path Our voices loud and long Not a single thing was wrong We had a time and a half” His rosy cheeks fought and failed to suppress the smile that burst across his face. His eyes fell, tempted to look away from her, but he brought them back. As he entered the chorus, she inched herself ever closer. “Remember the first time we kissed? We’re really living in the moments like this Such a breathtaking dance Our symbol of romance Ever since that first time we kissed” Her silvery laugh nearly caused him to lose pace with his own song. He recovered marvelously, leading into his final verse with a bit more of a solemn air. “Remember the first time we cried? When it seemed like all hope had died When faced with the unknown We brought each other home We carried on with our stride” “Remember the first time we kissed? We’re really living in the moments like this Such a breathtaking dance Our symbol of romance Ever since that first time we kissed” Her eyes drifted closed as she listened to his voice. She could feel his breath touch the edge of her muzzle as he whispered the final lines of the song. “Remember the first time we kissed? A single moment of heavenly bliss It’s a promise I shall keep No price could be too steep It won’t be the last time we kiss…” Sweetie smiled as she softly sang out her response. “So I’ll stand by your side And through all of the night You won’t have to spend a moment alone I will know all is right When I look in your eyes And I see that I’m already home” Their lips met above the sparkling pool, glittering in the sunrise. The magic in their hearts intertwined just as surely as if they were captive to each other’s songs. But no trickery passed between the two of them. No dark magic or painful coercion. They were both perfectly free to give the best they had to offer. They were free to be their truest selves.