//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 - Mourning // Story: A Queen Imprisoned // by FakeWolf //------------------------------// Pain echoed throughout my body in a variety of aches as I slowly pulled my consciousness out of the abyss of sleep. Habits born of a thousand years of hunger and life had me evaluate my magic and the emotions stored within me. I severely wish I hadn’t. Putrid, foreign hate polluted my body. Gathering in festering clumps and rotting my body from the inside out. A total absence of love made my body feel hollow, weak, and sick as it attempted to gain nutrients and vitality from the draining poisonous hate within me. I took a moment to gather what little strength I possessed- both physically and mentally- in preparation to discard the rot from my body. I would not die this way. I felt my body sway from as I rose, and before I could give in to the screaming need to collapse I parted my forehooves and planted firmly into the cold stone floor. I felt my body heaving at everything inside of me as my mind pounded in protest. I could do nothing but hang my head and aim my jaw to the floor in preparation. Vaguely, between the greasy curtain of wild uncut green mane that blocked my vision, my mind noticed the blurred pink blob sitting on the other side of the bars of my cell. A visitor, who had come to pester. I almost decided to abandon my efforts to purge my body of the rot before it took root within me. I would not show weakness. No matter how low I sink, I would hold my head high. It was then that I felt the hate inside me coalesce. Growing and reaching as it absorbed itself and attempted to root myself into my body. I could feel the rot within me reaching to grab more and more, and at that moment, I did not care whether or not this Pony saw my weakness. I was already a pathetic, worthless waste of space, they knew it, I knew it. A refusal to show weakness was… It didn’t matter in the end. As my attention was pulled to the horrible writhing sensation as the hate inside me was forced to give up its home.  Writhing, wriggling, squirming, screaming, as my body rejected it. I felt it pull against my insides, tendrils of taint trying to take root in my body. The sensations grew worse when the hate finally reached my throat. It fought for every inch. It did not want to leave. But I was stronger. My flame still burned brightly. I refused it. My jaw hung open as I stared at the chamberpot that found itself below me. The hate fought with desperation until its final moments, until the liquid emotion, so red it was black, crawled from my mouth and onto the floor in a great waterfall.  I stood for as long as I could, hacking out droplets of red emotion before slowly slumping onto my side. The aftertaste of hate still lingering and burning my tongue as a weak hoof pushed the tin bowl away. “Are you okay?” A voice spoke. High-pitched and drenched in sorrow. “No…” I found myself replying. There was silence for a moment, or at least I think it was silence, perhaps my tired mind simply didn’t register any sort of response from the mare. I tried to dredge up memories of what had happened before all went black. I could remember the white Pony, visiting and asking questions. I remember… a flaring of tempers? Her own and mine. I… ate her hate. Her rage. Used it as power. Cheap. Strong. But burns far too quickly. And ultimately as destructive to the self as it is others. My mind wandered, collecting scattered pieces of itself. The Princess of Dreams had visited me. Had told me… Were her words lies? Why would Princess Luna help my Changelings? It was not the practice of old, where you did unto the enemy what they did unto you. My words came back to me. It didn’t matter if she lied or not, whether my Changelings were hunted by the droves or left to fade back into the shadows didn’t matter. It would not change my fate. The axe is far kinder than I could ask for, considering all of my crimes. The sound of shuffling hooves turned my eyes back to the pink mare. I spent a moment, willing my vision into focus so as to see more than a mere pink blur against shadowed stone. Recognition came slowly, although I don’t think I could blame myself entirely, the mare looked nothing like how she used to. Her mane was a thick curtain, almost supernaturally straight. Her coat and mane had lost its luster, having become a dull parody of its original bright pink luster. Shining blue eyes were shimmer, but not in joy, but in deep grief and sorrow. What was perhaps strangest was her emotions. My spies had all told me the bonfire of joy was enough to identify at a distance, she burned bright and strong as she spread her smile to all she came across. Now, however, the bonfire was long extinguished, only billowing clouds of sorrow that rose from her body and filled the room. Part of me wondered if the strength of her grief was enough for even Ponies to sense it, that she felt those emotions so strong that even the deaf could hear them. “I’m sorry.” The mare spoke. It took me a moment to answer, my mind felt like sludge as I gathered the correct words. “Why are you here, Pinkie Pie?” “Pinkamena.” “Pardon?” I was sure her name was Pinkie Pie, my spies wouldn’t be so foolish as to give me the wrong- “Pinkamena Diane Pie.” My brows screwed tight as I thought. Simply a return to using a full name then? But why? “I thought you preferred to be called ‘Pinkie Pie’, it is what others called you last I met you and your friends.” “Not anymore.” The dull Pony murmured. Grief. Loss. A want to change? And she’s come here… but why? What does she seek? “Why? Why are you here, little Pony? I have only just awakened and there is only so much I can tolerate.” “I… was meant to come earlier. But didn’t.” “What do you mean, little Pony?” “I wanted to talk to you, earlier but… I’m late.” A choked sob escaped, “Why am I even here?” “If you have something to say Pony say it and be gone.” “I… wanted to… ask… you… something...” The mare trailed off and froze, I saw her ears twitch and flicker before- Before the mare broke, irritation, aimless rage, grief, desperation, strung together in a boiling firecracker of emotion. I felt my entire body flinch as the mare screamed. Her hooves stomped against the uncaring stone as she yelled, insulted, and cried. Curd, bastard, monster. Those were among the most frequent words spoken in her aimless rage, but they were not the most frequent. For there was one word that rose above all others, spoken over and over, its very meaning strangled into submission by her grief and rage. Piercing rotten want flared through her entire body as she chanted over and over again. “WHY?” I remained still, a primitive part of my mind calling me to disguise and stay still. To avoid the predator that raged beyond the bars of my cell. “WHY DOESN’T SHE TELL ME?! WHY CAN’T I KNOW?! W-WHY WHY WHY? WHY CAN’T WE HAVE BETTER? WHY ARE YOU TELLING THIS STORY? WHY?!?” I remained still and silent as I watched the dull pink mare collapse. Her body slowly shuddering with each heavy breath as she regained whatever spent energy she could. And slowly, as energy creeped back into her body, a smile grew on her lips. A demented smile. One that held no sanctity, no sanity, only broiled emotion that had been left in the sun to rot before being tossed into a great dirty pit. I felt my heart seize in my chest as her pinprick gaze and manic smile focused onto me. In a quiet voice, I heard her mumble something along the lines “I’m not completely bound by the story though, am I? I can push, I can shove… I can’t break it, the story has its plot… but we have a certain freedom? Don’t we? Even if we don’t know it.” Then she spoke to me, her voice louder, clearer. Filled with a pointed and focused aggression that only the fiercest predators could produce. “Chrysalis. Although you don’t like that name all that much, do you? It’s about the same as calling you ‘failure’, isn’t it? That’s what you believe at least. What a part of you wants as well, isn’t it? To be called a failure, to be ridiculed, to be left to rot because you simply don’t believe you deserve better, do you?” I remained silent, my own gaze wide as I felt my back press up against cold stone as I tried to creep further away from the Madmare- although crept is probably not the right word to describe how I dragged myself away. No more room to escape, no way to flee. No- --@_1#-- “Ah ah ah,” The Madmare interrupted. “No getting lost in thoughts and descriptions like that. We know you much prefer to talk.” She spoke, and I shivered at her voice and the almost ethereal quality that held it together, it was so fundamentally wrong, directionless and unfortunately uncanny, like the feeling of a spider crawling up your neck. “Chrysalis,” the Madmare continued, “I want to know something from you. I know you know, so don’t try to play dumb. Got that?” I faced the Madare before me with not a small amount of fear in me. My voice was tiny when I spoke, “What do you want to know?” I hated how quiet, how small- “Shut it. You’ve had it with the self-hate already. Isn’t this the turning point anyway? The time for hope?” The Madmare’s voice was… pointed, angry. Directed and yet directionless. The ephemeral blended with permanency.  Something inside me told me that whoever or whatever the mad mare was speaking to, it wasn’t meant for me no matter who she looked at as she spoke. “Just glossing over- fine, okay okay okay! Works for me! Okie-dokie-lokie,” The Mare’s voice rose in pitch, into something that would’ve sounded bubbly and adorable if not for the dank room and her manic disposition, the demented giggle that punctuated my sentence almost had my wings flare in panic, the emotions that came from her were things that should not be. “c’mon Chryssi, I want you to tell me something, can you do that for me?” Nerves would have had me only barely nod my head, but I was stronger than that. I had faced worse horrors-  “You really haven’t.” The Madmare spoke quietly. -and come out on top. “Y-you have yet to ask what you want to know.” “Dashie. What happened to her. How did she die. I want to know.” My mind froze and my heart skipped a beat. How could I tell this Madmare what had happened? What do I even say? How do I say it? “Just say it.” There was no easy way to say it, and I did not like my chances of this unstable mare learning the truth. “TELL ME!” Self-preservation came first. I must live for the Hive. For the Hive. “I-I can’t. Leave me be, please, go away, we have no business.” The Madmare’s entire body twitched. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” I was about to reply, to put my hoof down and deny her request, turn her away, scorn her foolishness, plead for her to leave. I never got a chance however, as the Madmare’s forehooves stretched, I felt a hoof wrap around me and the whole world shift as she pulled me closer. It wasn’t teleportation, I had teleported before, this was something else. With teleportation you were in one place one instant, and another the next this… I travelled through the bars, through the very world itself. Yet no time had passed, I was moved and I was there. I was outside of my cell, staring into the blue eyes of a pink mare who suddenly seemed a whole lot bigger than she had a moment before. The Madmare held me close and tight as she stared back into my eyes, into my soul. “How- wh-” “Shh-shh-shh-shh. Same reason you could feed on Rarity through the enchanted bars, Chryssi, something ‘other’.” I gulped as the Madmare pressed her head against mine. My body frozen in her grasp, unable to move the barest inch away. “Now, now, Chryssi, I know you don’t like not being out of your cell- you were never meant to get out after all- Not anytime that I know of at least, but then again I don’t know how this ends, so maybe in your climax there's a dramatic escape attempt- but now I think you know better than to not answer my question.” I tried to gulp but my throat was dry, I tried to wriggle free and found I couldn’t. I tried to do anything but I couldn’t. I could only do one thing. Slowly, the words crawled out of my mouth like spiders dragged across sandpaper. “What do you want?” “I want to not be the miserable crying sobbing mess that I was supposed to be. I want to kick the person who made me this way. I want- I want- I want-” tears shimmered in her eyes, her voice shook and broke as words came tumbling out, “It’s not fair, all I want to know is one thing, but I can’t!” More sobs, and I felt the Madmare’s arms wrap around me as if she was holding a particularly large teddy bear- “-teddy bears are nice-” and I was not going to risk what would happen if I chose to dissuade that emotion. A few deep, harmful breaths later, and I felt the Madmare’s grip loosen. “Madmare? I used to be Laughter. Can’t I go back to being that. Being happy? Why does this have to be so hard?” Another sob, and slowly- which was a strange way to describe the sensation- I felt the world shift around me once more. I stood in my cell, no longer within the Madmare’s embrace.  My body felt like carved wood as it slowly began to relax. The pink mare no longer stood outside my cell, the threat was gone. “That’s because I’m right here, Chryssi.” The Madmare’s voice answered, and I turned to see that she now stood beside me. Her whole body downcast as sorrow simmered within her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She spoke. “I just… I didn’t want to play along anymore, y’know? I wanted to choose my own path. You can understand that, can’t you?” I took a slow step away from the mare, and my mind tried desperately to ignore the fact I couldn’t feel the distance increase despite the Madmare’s stillness. Hesitantly, I spoke, “I... I can.” A sad, broken, but nonetheless amused chuckle, escaped the mare. “You would, wouldn’t you? That’s what you’re learning, isn’t it? Determining your own path despite whatever lack of choices you face. Or how that same determination to choose your own end can hurt? It’s very confused. Unsure of itself. I don’t like that.” I stood still for a moment, the Madmare’s words filtering into my mind. For some reason what she said felt… more important. Wrong and yet very right. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that yet, y’know, that was something that Cadence was meant to help you learn.” The Madmare leaned closer to me, her body stretching as she somehow leaned forward and up to be level with eyes. Far further than she should’ve. “But do you know why I did it? To prove something, to prove that the rules and order can be bent.” Her voice turned into a harsh whisper, “So tell me, Chryssi, what happened to my Dashie?” I halted. I had been about to tell her the truth, but then I thought better of it. The Madmare was filled with turmoil, she was mad and… something else, as well. I didn’t want to tell this mare what had happened- The Madmare seemed to pout as that thought entered my mind, but continued to stare at me. I could hear her whisper to… something. “Just try a little harder Chryssi, you can do it.” -the knowledge would… would do more harm than not knowing ever could. It would be wrong to tell her. She’d break so much worse. But wouldn’t letting her not know do the same? Leaving her to dwell on an unanswerable question. I heard the Madmare sniff, and felt my straying focus snap back onto her. “I just want to know if my Dashie loved me back, is that really too much to ask? Do you have to be so cruel?” The Madmare shrank back, talking to herself. “Why?” was the word on her lips. She slumped in defeat, and before I could step forward, before I could speak, barely after I even got a chance to blink she was gone. I wasn’t entirely unsurprised to find her sitting outside my cell, staring at the floor. “Why can’t I know? I wanted to tell Dashie so bad but… I didn’t know and that made me so scared because I didn’t know what I was going to do if she didn’t so I didn’t say anything and-” A sob, a cry, a cry of pain, the cry of a foal pleading for help from their mother. The cry of someone who no longer knew what to do. I didn't know what to do either. I didn’t know how to help, didn’t know if I could help. All I knew was that telling her would be… bad. “It’s okay…” The mare sniffed, her eyes turned to the floor. “I understand.” A pause. Something within my mind stirred. Flickering black emotions that weren’t really there. “I am no monster. Little Pony.” The pink Pony’s ears perked up,  “Maybe you Ponies say my tale is that of a monster’s defeat, but my Changelings told a different one.” Her ears swivelled to focus on me. “Make no mistake, they did not call me kind. It was not in our nature to be ‘kind’... but they did call me Mother, and while my Changelings are my kin it wasn’t I who birthed them.” I paused, and watched as the pink Pony’s head slowly began to turn. “They called me Mother regardless though. They trusted me to take care of them, to help them grow, and to lead them forward. No matter how foolish my choices were.” The mare was turning to face me now, surprise evident on her face. Amidst the tears and the stains. “If you were a child of ours… We would do our best to comfort you, but we offer no lies or soft words.” My gaze hardened. “You are a Pony, but more than that… you were a Bearer of Harmony, the Bearer of Laughter, of joy, of positivity, of optimism, of hope. You would be the one who would forgive and forget. So that is what I tell you now, Pony. Forgive and forget. Move on from your pain. Forgive yourself and forget your pain. It is not needed, and will only hurt you if you hold onto it.” “That’s…” the dull pink Pony began before trailing off. “Be silent, Pony. Speak no more words to me. Leave. Please. Begone and forget this day. Forget your pain and forget your grief. I will not see you now. Nor ever again. I shall die in this realm, and my memory will die swiftly after. Leave me to my fate and return from whence you came.” Blue eyes watched me for a moment. Her expression unreadable as she slowly backed away. I heard her hooves trot up the stairs. I waited until I heard the groan of the wooden door at the top of the stairs and the solid thud of it falling shut before I collapsed. My body was… exhausted. Tears stung my eyes, my whole body shivered in pain and fear. It hurt and I was so hungry. I wanted out. I could not even find the strength to fall asleep, to let oblivion take me. Only the weakness to lay there and cry. To die a slow death as my body slowly eroded away at itself. Pinkamena claimed Cadenza planned to see me. The Witch Celestia had yet to see me, nor had her student. I doubted she had forgotten about me. Was she simply biding her time then. Waiting until I was on death's door to spout her philosophy and the virtues of harmony? To be able to hold her strength and wisdom above my head while she ‘graciously’ offered me a chance at her ‘redemption’?  The thought almost made me wish she had forgotten about me. That she was content on dealing with me like she had all her problems for as long as I had known her. Shove the burden onto someone else and claim credit, to forget about it and let someone else deal with it, then re-write history when it does not fit the image she wanted. In the dark of my cell I waited.  For the next set of hooves to echo against the stone. For oblivion to seize me and carry me away one final time. For peace of mind to return to me, to grant me sweet release.