On the edges of the Chaos Lands stood a small but resilient hive. The lands were a honeycomb of mesas with harsh deserts on the surface and thick water trapping forests tucked away in the valleys.
The hive itself was built within one of the largest mesas in the south. A lonely, sparingly used rail line snaked its way from it to Equestria in the south. The sun was halfway to the horizon, but that didn’t stop two puppets and their eight escorts from flying over to one of the many valleys.
The two in the center were puppets, one grey, the other purple. The grey one tried its best to sound confident. “I would have ignored the toxin, it burns easily enough, but the last time I did that the whole valley went up. It took weeks to suffocate the flames, and more fumes keep coming out of the ground.”
“So you think it might be cursed ground?” Twilight’s puppet replied with mounting concern.
“The number of strange things I’ve seen is unending. I don’t have the same expertise you do with dark magic or their curses as you do. I lack your finesse.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call what I do ‘finesse’, Sectovaria.” Twilight smirked at the ground below them. “Typically I throw up a shield and blast it with holy magic from as far away as possible. It’s inelegant, but it’s tried and proven.”
“I hope it doesn’t react worse than my attempts to burn it out.” Sectovaria pointed at the break in the mesas. “Down there.”
The entourage dove for the break and came into a hover around a grove of burnt out trees, now little more than blackened spears jutting out from a morass of charred mud and rock. What hit Twilight immediately was the distinct, if weak smell of rotten eggs. “Sulfur…” Twilight surveyed the spot. “Well, I don’t sense any dark magic, demonic or even undeath. Those usually have a very noticeable miasma around them.”
“That’s a relief.” Sectovaria inwardly cursed herself for showing weakness. Great, now she’ll think I can’t comprehend what a real threat is. “Should I just mark the area as off limits?”
Twilight said nothing at first. She had one of her escorts fly down with a scoop and take a sample of the black fluid. When she was presented with the sample, she attempted to pull a small ball of it out with her magic. “I wouldn’t just yet. The fact that it burned for so long despite your efforts warrants investigation. You were wise to call on me.”
Sectovaria smiled broadly with her real body. The old guard queen was still of a mindset that criticism was always voiced and silence was praise. To hear it openly removed all anxiety from her mind. “I live to serve you, High Queen.”
“And you’ve done so quite well.” Twilight had more of her drones come over with tools and instruments both magical and mundane.
It took her the better part of an hour or so before she grinned. “Sectovaria, if I’m not mistaken, you’re sitting on a reservoir of oil.”
Oil?” She parroted dumbly. “I know of cooking and fat oil, but none of that looks so black and viscous.”
“This is another kind of oil,” Twilight clarified with calculations already running in her head. “By the smell though, there’s some natural gas as well. The gas can cut costs for the refining process of Octavia fuel by half. Among other things I’ve read about.” She gauged Sectovaria’s face for a reaction she didn’t end up getting. “I’ll need to get prospectors out here to see just how much you’re sitting on and how we’ll safely extract it, but if this much has already bubbled up since the fire, I’d wager you are quite rich all of a sudden.”
“Rich? You mean I’d be able to finally afford more alchemical agents? Maybe even... chocolate?”
“I don’t want to jump too early, but yes, all the chocolate you can eat. Among other things.”
Talks between both queens surged anew, but it was not Twilight’s focus.
Blitzkrieg was in her office sifting through files and pictures. Aegis leaned against the chair looking over her shoulder. The desk before them was clogged with folders ranging from drones to ponies, and the very rare sphinx. Psykiras only.
“I still think including ponies is a bad idea, let alone sphinxes,” Aegis stated firmly. She crossed her arms as she magically pulled up a file of Rasua. “I mean seriously, why the daughter of Strathome’s governor? You know damn well she’d say no. And if she did say yes, it would mean war.”
“I’m just keeping our options open.” Blitz grabbed the file and returned it to its proper place. “We can afford to have dozens of duchesses, so we’ll need a deeper pool to draw from.”
Groaning, Aegis slapped the file of sphinxes. “You’re missing the point. You start even offering this to a species of psi-haters and those little military ‘exercises’ will start shooting at us instead of paper targets.”
“She’s right you know,” Twilight interjected as she fully assumed control of a drone that had been aiding Blitz in sorting new candidates. “I would have thought you’d be far more aware of this than Aegis.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, mom,” Aegis playfully grouched.
“Ahhh, but you see,” Blitz countered with a wagging finger. “I have a plan to cool things down. Behold!” She cried with a flourish of a hoof while magically creating a hologram of a stadium. “I’ve had another pet project that I’ve been keeping under wraps. I have put the finishing touches on a rough draft—”
“Final touches on a rough draft?” Aegis cut in with a derisive smirk while thumping Blitz’s forehead. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Siiilenccce!” Twilight dramatically hissed at Aegis. She smirked at the half-amused scowl her daughter gave. “Don’t stop a villain from monologuing, you know that.”
Blitz half screamed and swatted at both of them. Mother and daughter cackled evilly and feebly shielded themselves. “I swear it’s a good idea. Just hear me out.”
Twilight calmed down first and gave a mildly impatient gesture, but her good humor was still intact. “I’m all ears.”
“Right, so, this stadium would be equipped with hundreds of magic projectors for both pictures and levitation. We’d have just as many clockwork brains wired in to control it all. Since Vaults and Villains is so popular with the Federation, this is the ultimate olive branch. A place where a major campaign can be waged that would be as close to making it realistic as possible outside of a linkscape.”
Twilight hummed with intrigue and scrutinized the stadium more closely. Even Aegis looked impressed. “Oohh, I see your angle now.” Twilight smirked at the blue queen. “Very well done.”
“Care to clue me in?” Aegis asked with mounting indignation. She drummed her fingers on the back of Blitz’s chair and gave her mother a narrow glare. “Because we’ve been one-upping each other on new forts, airships, and troops for the past five years. Well…” Aegis shook her head as sarcasm dripped from her fangs. “If you can call what the feds are making ‘airships’.”
Blitz held up a restraining hand, blunting the rant that was building, but did not yet look at her. “Every once in a while, declare peace.” She turned and fixed Aegis with a conniving grin that flashed some fangs. “It confuses your enemies to no end.”
A laughing smirk played on Aegis’s muzzle. “Okay, okay. Could work, but is buying a few candidates for the duchess program really worth it?”
“You tell me.” Blitz replied with a cryptic grin as she laid out all of the sphinx files, but this was not Twilight’s focus.
Deep in the belly of Middle Canterlot, a puppet stepped into a demonic library. The room had mahogany furniture, ranging from the shelves to the stools. Books written on pony leather by authors whose names could not be uttered by mortal tongues without inducing a subconjunctival hemorrhage laid upon their shelves. The ambient light was just bright enough to read comfortably, at least for the library’s proprietor.
“You wanted to speak with me?” Twilight called out with a measure of disgust at the leaking miasma pooling around her hooves.
“I did indeed.” Schadenfreude didn’t turn to face her yet. He withdrew a large leather tome with a stretched out pony’s face on the cover. “I got a rather interesting customer yesterday.”
“Did you now?” Twilight saturated her legs with holy magic so she could walk freely through the low hanging miasma. She cantered over to join the demonologist who was taking the book to a podium. “Dare I ask why it relates to me?”
“You may.” Schadenfreude chuckled as he flipped to the right page. “You see, a rather strange hybrid walked in asking to pay for a way to collect souls of beings upon the moment of death. I gave him enough to learn basic on-contact soul shards, but he seemed to be an eager lad, I’m sure he can improvise from there.”
“Hybrid?” Twilight’s pace quickened until she got in close to him. “You mean a changeling hybrid.”
“He certainly had the soul of one.” Schadenfreude finally turned to face her and gave a polite bow. “A rare, corrupted soul like that is worth a great deal.”
Twilight recoiled a little, barely trying to hide her reaction. “He sold his soul for that power?”
“Sadly no. It would have made an excellent prize. But he claimed his soul belonged to another.” Schadenfreude revealed the page of his book to her. It was a life-like drawing of an earth stallion that possessed chitin up to his knees, the beginnings of chitin on his chest, along with small wings and a crooked red horn. “Look familiar?”
Twilight’s shocked expression turned grim. “Red chitin, only Polybia had that. He’s definitely a quasi. Did he say why he wanted this power?”
“He did but…” a mad grin cleaved his muzzle. It was rare he let such amusement color his face. “Oh I might as well tell. He wants to collect enough souls to summon his old queen.”
Twilight eyed the demonologist with a worrisome eye and stepped back to keep him in focus. “Free advice is seldom cheap.”
Dark laughter rolled through the library, seemingly causing the miasma to froth. “This is why I prefer to talk to you over any other queen. You understand the game. After he paid for my services, I tacked a tracking spell onto the books I gave him. I can give you the proper tracing rites, but I want his soul in return when you capture him.”
“I don’t deal in souls, Schadenfreude,” Twilight declared with absolute iron. “You know this.”
“Thus far,” Schadenfreude shrugged. He ignored her irate, narrowed eyes and stomped a hoof on the stone floor to make an echoing click. “I am only warning you of him as part of my contract with Grogar. You are more than free to find him on your own.” He closed the book. “But if you stand by your personal code, then I am willing to accompany you or your drones in tracking him down.”
“What so you can take his soul in person?”
“Naturally.” A small, smokey, black imp skittered over with a tray containing two wine glasses and a bottle. “Care for a drink?”
“I’ll pass.” She kept her diplomatic mask intact as she politely waved it off. As if you really expected me to drink anything here.
“Suit yourself. This vintage is one of a kind.” He popped the cork and poured a glass, letting the imp stay there as an impromptu table. “To be as blunt as your militant half, yes, so I can claim his soul, and potentially any of the allies he has accrued.”
Twilight's countenance darkened. She paced a little, her tail flicking madly. “Just how much of an organization do you think this is?”
“Enough to pay handsomely, and he didn’t look the type to masquerade as a noble to withdraw some funds. Felt too… oh how shall I put this. A bit too fanatical.” He sipped his wine, enjoying every drop. “If nothing else, I can’t have him giving my profession a worse name than it has already.”
Twilight stopped pacing and leveled an incredulous glare. “Then why did you sell—” Her brow furrowed. “You planned on going with me on this hunt from the start.”
Deep laughter rumbled under his breath. He held a glass up to her honor. “Guilty as charged.”
As troubling as this discovery was, it was not Twilight’s focus.
Twilight Velvet pushed the door open onto a sunkissed balcony of the tree-library. A few books followed in her magic. With the library closed for the day, she had time to enjoy the red and golden sunset.
Some pieces of trash, wrappers and empty cups were scattered on the tables and the cushions. She went about tossing it all away in the can near the door before finding a nice spot near the railing. Honestly, do ponies not read the ‘No food or drink’ signs?
Doing her best to cast it from her mind, she fluffed the blue satin cushion before settling down to finish her magazine on engineering. It was no textbook or how-to’s, just a layman’s catalogue of inventions and predicted technologies for the near future. While a growing portion of it came from Equestria, the lion’s share still originated from the hives.
She read quietly, but was often distracted by the sound of buzzing wings from the streets below. She watched many beings move by, talking to others, pony and changeling alike. Most were clearly friends; joking, laughing, helping their drunk buddies get home safely, gossiping about nothing and everything, fawning over new purchases of all sorts.
She heard footsteps behind her, far too heavy to be Autumn. “I used to think the purple and blues changelings were bugs masquerading as ponies.” She closed her magazine, set it off to the side, and looked up to meet her daughter’s eyes. “Without the lies clouding my vision, I finally see they are ponies masquerading as bugs.”
Here in her real body, Twilight was working her jaw trying to think of what to say. In her mind’s eye, she could vividly remember the monastery where her mother vowed to kill her. The trial where Velvet spat vitriol that the psikera received daily by their brethren. Seeing Velvet here praising her children. It felt off, like an act to get close.
This was Twilight’s focus.
“I can see the resemblance.” Twilight circled around, keeping an eye on Velvet the entire time. She found an opposing cushion just barely within speaking range and sat down. “But it is more accurate to say my brood is returning to their roots. Historical record says changelings used to be thestrals.”
“I must admit that was an enlightening read.” Velvet tried to meet Twilight’s eyes, but the hard, unfriendly glower forced her to look away again.
Silence lapsed. Velvet squirmed nervously under the critical stare.
“Why are you really here?” Twilight asked with carefully controlled hostility. “Blitzkrieg will only say it was to help me, but that was her excuse. Celestia is playing her cryptic games and is no help there.” Velvet opened her mouth to speak, but Twilight cut her off. “And don’t give me that ‘they forced me’ shtick.”
“...I was going to say they gave me the strength I needed, but not even that is everything.”
It would be a lie to say Velvet had not planned for her next encounter, but it did little to make it easier to speak. “While in Manehattan, I thought I was helping you best by staying away. But as it turned out, Arvatus has a knack for setting me straight. He told me you were still pained by what I had done.
“What I did back then, the deals I struck, the measures I went to… Twilight, I don’t have long for this world. I’m not sure how long, but I’ll never make it to a hundred. My only wish now is that by the time I die, you can look at me the same way you did before I pushed you away.”
Turmoil raged within Twilight. A part of her yearned to be loved and to love in return, but she couldn’t follow that changeling instinct. The pain still bled. The words of hate still rang in her ears. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”
“Maybe not,” Velvet admitted with remorse so deep it swallowed Twilight’s empathy in its magnitude. She could do little to stop the tears and sniffles from resurging. “But it certainly would never happen if I didn’t try.”
Twilight sharply turned away, somehow feeling shamed alongside Velvet. Unwilling to let her emotions break in front of her, Twilight teleported away.
Velvet was left with the last of the sun slipping below the mountains. “She actually came to talk.” A frightfully weak smile crossed her. “Maybe there is a chance, old friend.” Renewed hope gave her the strength to stand, Velvet collected her magazine and made for Autumn Breeze’s loft. “I need to know what food and drink she likes now.”
It wasn’t long before Twilight had retreated to her chambers back in Phoenix Roost. So many matters vied for her attention, but she found herself incapable of such multitasking tonight.
She flopped on the bed, trying to get some other work done via puppets.
“You still need to work on hiding your emotions,” Cadista called out from a dark corner in the room.
Twilight wigged out and screamed, only to fall to the floor. Her time on the soft carpet allowed her to recollect herself and stand back up with a scowl. By then, Cadista had buzzed over to the other side of the bed. “I’m not in the mood to talk, mom.”
“You should have been used to having to do what you don’t want to ages ago, my dear.” Cadista tilted her head, but not even a hint of humor escaped her. “It is our duty.”
“Yes, yes, I know that.” Twilight pulled herself back up fully. She glanced around and saw a bowl of fresh fruit waiting nearby. Hungrily, she magically jerked it over to rest on the foot of the bed and started eating. <Go ahead and lecture me,> she offered with utter resignation to a miserable fate. <First Mother knows I’d be doing it to Aegis.>
“You must close this chapter of your life, Twilight.” Cadista helped herself to a cluster of green grapes. “You were bad enough anytime business took you anywhere close to Manehattan, and now I fear that’s going to transfer to Ponyville. I would prefer to spend my retirement not having to shield your military drones from your distracting fits.” She leaned forward, trying to show herself to Twilight who was doing an admirable job focusing on the fruit bowl. “Rainbow Dash has been lodging complaints.”
Leveling a steel glare of supreme disbelief, Twilight made Cadista almost shrink back. “Rainbow has never had problems complaining to my face.”
It was only then that a slight curl formed on the edge of Cadista’s mouth. “It was implied. It distracts the troops after all.”
A half-groan/half-scream roared from Twilight’s mouth as she flopped on the bed covering her face with a pillow. Cadista magically kept the bowl from spilling on the sheets. “What do you want me to do, mom? Go up to Velvet and be all hugs, kisses, and bygones be bygones?”
“Would it help?”
Twilight threw the pillow off to stare incredulously at her. “No!”
“Then don’t.”
The reply was so simplistic and yet so casual, Twilight couldn’t help but to groan and cover her face again. “You're not being very helpful.”
Cadista leisurely sat down next to Twilight and started rubbing the side of her neck. “Twilight. You know as much as anypony the power of both mother and daughterhood. No matter how much she tried to destroy that connection years ago, you have held onto it. No changeling can sever such a bond.”
<The chitin queens do. Or used to.> Twilight’s blood was still running high. Her disquiet was beginning to affect the drones in the castle, and that would spread soon. <Maybe I should ask Chrysalis how her kind can—>
<“Don’t!”> Cadista commanded hard enough with both speech and her hive-voice to startle Twilight into sitting upright. She found herself breathing heavily all of a sudden. She willed herself to calm back down to answer her bewildered daughter. “All that does is create bitterness and paranoia. Those traits may have served them well in the jungle, but not in the new society your progeny are creating. Fear, hatred, paranoia, and disgust all have their place, but we must never let that fester within the unified hive mind between its members. Any emotional sickness from us will corrupt the hives.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Twilight heaved a weary sigh. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to think. “Wait a minute…” She opened them to scrutinize her mother. “How did you forgive Kreesus?”
All she got out of Cadista was a barely perceivable arched eyebrow. “Same way as anyone else, I’d imagine.”
“I don’t buy it.” Twilight gripped around so she was standing up. “Kreesus was your friend for centuries, you trusted her enough to dine inside of Fluffy. And yet she directly caused the destruction of Stripped Gear, killed well over half your children, and forced you to do… that to yourself. You were able to move on from that!. What’s your secret?”
Cadista didn’t answer right away. She moved to the head of the bed and started twiddling with the engravings she had personally created. “If you want the practical reason, it’s because I knew she both hated doing it, and felt forced to do so. Without fully thinking it through, I had backed her into an evolutionary corner and I should have been more cognizant of that fact. I knew by moving past that, I could make her your ally for the foreseeable future, and I was right.”
“That only explains the why, not the how.”
The lines and grooves on the head of the bed were one of Cadista’s proudest works. The flowing cuts represented the glory of the hive song. The paints were the finest, richest ones she knew of. “That at least, is a simple answer. I held a personal Day of Mourning for Kreesus.”
Twilight’s ears perked straight up and her wings buzzed for a solid two seconds. “But she’s still alive. How can you do that?”
Cadista looked away from the engravings towards the paintings on the wall. Each of them were Cadista originals, all given a place of honor. “Back when Yumia was alive, as you should remember, she used to trade rebirths with me. We alternated roles between mother and daughter. Nature, nurture, memories. These are the pillars of personality. With those memories gone we quickly realized our personalities often changed dramatically.
“Although I was still alive, she still held a Day of Mourning for who I used to be.”
Absently gnawing on an apple, Twilight mulled over the idea. <Can I hazard a guess as to why you didn’t tell me about this sooner?>
“Simple,” Cadista replied with a brief head shake. “Velvet made a convincing case when she said she underwent a pseudo rebirth of her own. The only real question left is whether or not you want to reconnect with her.”
“I didn’t tell anypony about that,” Twilight fumed, glaring at Cadista, who looked entirely unaffected by the evil eye. “And I distinctly remember telling Intel to keep her mouth shut.”
“My dear, when you have a mental shock on the battlefield, I take notice.” Cadista walked over and placed a hoof on Twilight’s chest. “But when you have a shock in the heart of your hive, I take action.
“Intel was more than generous to lend me her ears during that conversation, so you should have given her that order before the conversation.”
Twilight was too drawn by the hoof on her chest to see the brief smirk on Cadista’s face. Ultimately, she couldn’t bring herself to think about Intel’s indiscretion. She felt tears falling from her eyes. Her whole body seemed to wilt. She would have collapsed then and there had Cadista not swiftly caught her so they would fall onto the bed instead. Half her heart wanted to be rid of Velvet, the lies, betrayal, and attempted murder. Yet an older half still remembered freshly cooked treats, loving smiles, a happy home, proud moments of showing off perfect scores, of a mother who poured everything she had into helping Shining Armor and Twilight succeed.
“You know…” Twilight said between sniffles. “Velvet used to be a lot like Rainbow’s mom.”
“Cheering you on every step of the way?” Cadista suppressed a smirk after Twilight nodded. “Including the giant foam head-hat?”
Cathartic laughter bubbled out of Twilight. “Okay, she didn’t go that far. Nor did she ever make a bunch of egg plushies and scatter them all over the house.” She buried her face into Cadista’s neck, a place of respite rarely afforded to her anymore. Cadista roped a foreleg over her and held onto Twilight tightly. The world didn’t matter in that moment. Even the Link sounded dim. All there was, was the bond between mother and daughter, and it was something Twilight loved more than anything.
<I can’t do it.> Twilight pulled away, hating every moment of doing so. “I refuse to see Velvet again feeling like everything she did was in a book instead of happening directly to me.”
“That doesn’t sound like you’re rejecting her.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Twilight continued to shed tears quietly. <Rainbow’ll call me an idiot, but I feel like giving her another chance. Sending her away feels too cowardly.>
Cadista lifted Twilight’s chin so she could meet her eyes, and spoke with all the regal poise she had been born with. “Spoken like a true queen. I can never express how proud I am of you.”
A shaky, emotional smile lit up Twilight’s face as Cadestia stood up to leave. “I love you too.”
“Get some rest, child, it’s not often you get the chance.” Planting a kiss on Twilight’s forehead, Cadista departed through the door.
Twilight watched her leave, her veins filled with determination.
The next day, Twilight was flying over Ponyville. It was a quiet moment as everyone rushed to eat breakfast before trotting to work. Breakfast cafes were already open, serving to those few who could take the time to sit and eat.
According to Autumn, Velvet seems to favor Sugar Cube Corner for breakfast.
It didn’t take her long to find the place. Over the years, the pastry shop had been renovated to accommodate a dining room five times larger than before and a kitchen capable of keeping up with that. The living area above had also been expanded. Where Pinkie’s old apartment once was, was now a full condo. After Pinkie Pie relocated her party vault, the cave remained forgotten to most, except Luna. The exterior now looked like a pound cake with eye-fetching icing designs. The cake loaf looked as if it had been cut in half and pulled into a V shape. The exposed interior cake served as the entrance. Drizzling icing between the two halves masked the housing for the rest of the structure.
Getting hungry just looking at it, Twilight was about to swoop down to enter when a prismatic contrail raced up from behind. “I thought I’d find you here.”
“Good morning, Rainbow,” Twilight greeted, not even bothering to hide her intentions. “I suppose you’re here to tell me I should just punt her to the moon.” Rainbow Dash was using magic to hide her size so she would look like any other drone, but Twilight could instinctively feel it was her real body.
“It'd be the fastest fix, I can tell you that.” Rainbow groaned and rubbed the back of her neck. “Look, I could argue that this is my business too because we’re the same person now, but honestly, I just want to see you happy.”
Twilight couldn’t help but smirk. “You certainly have gotten sappy over the years.” She ribbed her sister only for Rainbow to push it away.
“Oh please. Do you know how hard it is to judge new weapon designs when your bawling keeps making me cry when I don’t feel like it? The damn eggheads thought I was crying from seeing perfection when the gun design was so bad I was inches from reassigning them.” Rainbow sighed so dramatically it would do Rarity proud. “All I’m asking is don’t let your guard down. I don’t trust her.”
“For what’s it’s worth, neither do I.”
The reply made Rainbow blink. She leveled off by crossing her forelegs. “And yet you want to be able to trust her again.”
It was rare, but Twilight was trying not to think too much about the meeting until she was in it. It was the only way she felt she could arrive without scowling ahead of time. “I wouldn’t be out here if I didn’t.”
“Then for her sake, she better be on the level.” Rainbow Dash made to fly off, but it ended up orbiting Twilight a bit. A funny mood hit her, making her stare in the direction of town square. Nostalgia tickled a weak laugh out of her. “Strange, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“You remember how we first met?”
Twilight leveled a leering, sultry eye at her other half. “That question usually precipitates a kiss.”
“Oh, shut up!” Rainbow batted at her with a hoof, making Twilight giggle as she was sent spinning in midair. “I was being serious.”
Twilight easily corrected her spin. Her eyes followed to the same spot Rainbow was staring fondly at. “You mean when you lost control of a stunt and sent me flying into the mud?”
“That’s the one.” Rainbow flipped in the air just to get some wind flowing in her mane. “To think you never would have dragged me down this crazy life if I hadn’t lost control or chose to practice somewhere else.”
“I still would have found you eventually,” Twilight tried to correct. She met Rainbow’s eyes with mild confusion. “I was there to check up on the Summer Sun Celebration after all.”
“Yeah, sure. But all your worrying about the Elements and Nightmare Moon had me more spooked than I ever would have admitted back then.” Rainbow watched the throng of beings going to and fro below and around them. “That was the only reason I didn’t charge Nightmare right alongside the Royal Guards.”
“You never told me that before.” Twilight leaned in to nuzzle her other half. An act Rainbow eagerly reciprocated.
“I just told you I never would have admitted it. Come, keep up, Twi.” The snark on Rainbow’s muzzle was infectious. She pulled back and adopted a lazy, fluttering orbit. “Who knows. Somepony else could have ended up your partner queen.”
“Rarity would have worn it well.” Twilight tried to imagine a sea of pearly white changelings all vying for the most exceptional fashion. “Not sure how industrious they’d end up being.”
“By the First Mother, the last thing we’d need a hive of Rarities.” Rainbow Dash summoned a hologram of a fainting couch and draped herself over it, making Twilight giggle madly. “We’d have to make drama sofas standard issue. Hide them around everywhere like Pinkie’s party favors.”
“You keep it up, I’ll tell her you said that,” Twilight warned while laughing behind a hoof.
“Ha! I’ll tell her myself.”
“Oh, I believe it.” Twilight felt like her old self again. A contentedness in life warmed her heart and she felt the tension in her chest and neck relax. With her spirits lifted, she gave off a calm sigh. “Thanks, RD, I needed that.”
Rainbow’s mirth became forced, but she managed to hide that fact behind careful aura control. “You’re the one wanting to reconnect to her. If Granny Caddy was able to do it with Kreesus, and you want to do it with Velvet… Maybe you see something I can’t.” Without another word, Rainbow shook her head and floated away. She was quiet for a few moments. Her aura started tinting to a murky, bluish yellow of snarky humor. “I really should stop doing this,” she said with an exaggerated sigh.
“Stop what?” Twilight’s prank radar lit up, and she eyed her blue half with deep suspicion.
“Talking to myself in public,” Rainbow deadpanned with a thinly veiled smile.
It actually took Twilight a few seconds to catch Rainbow’s meaning. When she did, she groaned and rolled her eyes so hard her head followed her. “Oh whatever!”
“They say it’s even worse if you hear an answer,” Rainbow replied with a fang-filled grin.
“You. Hush.” Twilight swatted at Rainbow, only for the puppet to laugh and fly off, leaving her sister to watch her go. <I wasn’t going to let you go into that meeting all mopey and pissy. Aegis would sooner go into battle with no flamer fuel. But, I reserve the right to punt Velvet to the sea if she double crosses you again.>
<I won’t stop you, but I hope you’re wrong.>
<Yeah, me too.>
The fear in those three words was almost enough to make Twilight turn back. But Rainbow’s efforts in rousing Twilight from her anger driven rut was enough to give her the strength to carry on. That’s Rainbow’s fear, not yours!
Or was it?
Maybe we should wear two pieces of the soul artifacts. Nothing for it now. Twilight shored up her courage and hung onto the peace Rainbow had given her for dear life. She flew down to Sugar Cube Corner and put on an illusion to hide her size. The breakfast crowd was starting to thin. The proprietor, Pumpkin Cake waved at her.
“The usual?” She shouted over the heads of the short line at the counter.
That’s what I get for not hiding my eyes. Still, I wouldn’t mind a lemon tart and some juice. Twilight nodded and waved back. “Make it a double order for here!”
“You got it!”
Twilight ignored the unicorn passing the order to the kitchen to do a quick scan of the patrons. She found Velvet reading a book and holding the remains of a scone on her magic. Much like Twilight, it took a lot to get her to snap out of a good book. Her instant reaction was recalling the painful—Stop it! Twilight took a deep breath through her nose and slowly exhaled. You are not going to be a coward. If she relapses, let Rainbow have her way. If she’s honest, then at the very least I can stand her presence.
Leveraging her diplomatic experience, Twilight forced the scowl off her face and approached Velvet’s table. Her approach got the old mare’s attention, rattling her a bit.
“Twilight?” There was hope in her eyes. A hope of reuniting with a lost loved one.
For a moment, Twilight had to make sure her voice would be level. “Is this seat taken?”
Velvet hastily motioned to the opposing bench. A careful, but truly beaming smile graced her as Twilight took her seat. “I’ve made a resolution to always save a seat for you.”
Took you long enough. Twilight closed her eyes and breathed, knowing she almost said that out loud. Even after watching Velvet through Amber’s eyes for days, she still had a hard time looking at Velvet without anger. “I suppose I might have to do the same, or my daughters will force it upon me.”
Bashful laughter arose from Velvet, and even Twilight couldn’t stop from smirking a little. “Clearly it runs in the family. I wish I could have allowed myself to be so trusting back then.” Velvet’s mood and aura didn’t sink all that low this time. The wrinkling mare was almost giddy at Twilight electing to sit at her table at all.
“Yeah, me too.” It came out far less harshly than Twilight intended. Oh, how many times she wished for this very thing before the monastery incident. Yet the years had scabbed over this particular wound very thoroughly.
While Velvet’s aura betrayed the flash of pain, she outwardly hid it well. “Shall I order you something? My treat.”
A thin, resistant smile played upon Twilight. “I’ve already ordered, but thank you. So how’s the library? Settling in?”
“Oh, it’s much more welcoming than the archive was.” Velvet started going off like an old gossip hound. She gesticulated with her hooves as she prattled on. “Manehattan is such a busy place. Patrons have no time for small talk, or even a word or two outside of what they need. Honestly, despite the growth I’d heard Ponyville’s been going through, everything seems so much more laid back and calm.”
“That’s by design, actually,” Twilight stated flatly, as she went back to guarding herself emotionally. “I want Ponyville to prosper, but I don’t want to see it become an impersonal place like so many larger cities, so I have Phoenix Roost suck up all the impersonal elements, targeted trade deals and the like. My children keep the place feeling like a home there.”
“Well, it certainly seems to be working.”
Pumpkin Cake arrived and delivered Twilight’s order and put on another cup of tea for Velvet. “Any guest of the Queen’s a guest of the Corner. It’s on the house, ma’am.”
Both queen and unicorn shared their gratitude, and as Pumpkin left, Velvet risked pawing the air towards Twilight. “Now, I know I may be pushing it here, but I would love it if you could tell me about your hive and children. What the city’s like, how you thought up all those new machines, the works.”
“Most of that is public record, you know.” Twilight kept her mild surprise at the question well hidden, but did feel a twinge of desire to fawn over her children’s accomplishments.
Velvet kept a thin, false smile and idly stirred her tea with a pastry straw. “Twilight. I haven’t asked Amber anything about you or your children outside of what I need for work because… Because my first failure after you returned was learning about Cadista’s hive through other sources, never with my own two eyes and ears. By the time I started asking you directly, I was drowning in so much misinformation and lies that it took a psychic psychiatrist to pull me back out. So, if you’re willing to bend my ear for a time, I would love to learn about Phoenix Roost and her queens directly from you this time.”
The first genuine smile of the day parted Twilight’s lips. She settled a bit more into her seat and teased a morsel from her lemon tart. “I can do that. What would you like to know?”
The old mare closed her eyes for a long moment to think. She shuddered as a breeze from the opening door tousled her mane. “Arvatus told me the best way to clear away the lies was to hear the truth from the start. So, as much as you’re willing, I would be happy to know how things were, from your eyes.”
“From the beginning…” Twilight took a long satisfying drag from her tea. “I can make the time.”