//------------------------------// // 45: A Fresh Start // Story: Death of a Queen // by Arkane12 //------------------------------// Chrysalis pushed open the cabin door, stepping inside to shake the dampness from her mane. The sudden movement drew the attention of every armored pony in the room. They watched, muscles tensed and glares unblinking, like powder kegs waiting for Chrysalis to light a spark. Thorax squeezed in beside her. Blissfully unaware of the stiff atmosphere, he fluttered his wings, sending the rainwater splashing across the cabin. “Miss Chrysalis. Glad you're alright.” Captain Shield nodded in her direction. He seemed to be the only one unphased by her domineering aura. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” Chrysalis asked, chuckling to herself. Several of the soldiers scowled in response. “Can you get out of the way? I can’t hold this spell forever,” A mare called out from behind her. With a start, Chrysalis stepped aside, allowing the rest of the group to funnel inside before Dusti released her spell. “Glad to see you’re in one piece, Princess.” “Likewise, Captain Shield.” Twilight glanced around the room, each angry glare only adding to her concern. “Did something happen? Is the ship alright?” She asked, her voice quivering with sudden panic. “Nothing’s the matter, Princess. My subordinates are simply eager to be home. Isn’t that right?” His final words rang loud, jarring his soldiers out of their stupor. “Oh. That’s . . . good,” Twilight said, nodding slowly. “Well, what are we waiting for, then?” Dusti asked, pressing her way through the group gathered in the doorway. Glaze followed; worry etched into his brow as he accompanied her down to the lower deck. “The Lieutenant makes a good point. Let’s get this ship in the sky,” Shield ordered. The crew went to work, shifting levers and running numbers over charts as they plotted their course. Despite their shift in focus, Chrysalis still noticed the occasional backwards glance. “Given Miss Chrysalis’ presence, I assume everything went according to plan?” “It did,” Twilight said, smiling. “I hope Lieutenant Diamond and Private Glaze were fit for the task.” Chrysalis watched the smile fade from Twilight’s eyes, though not from her lips. “They performed admirably.” A quiet scoff escaped from Thorax. “Glad to hear it.” Captain Shield threw a switch beside the helm. With a shudder, the ship lifted from the mud. The wood and metal frame groaned under the storm’s abuse but held firm. Within minutes, they were back in the clouds, and then above them, back in the middling sunlight of dawn. “That’s bright,” Twilight whined, using a foreleg to shield her eyes. “Quite,” Chrysalis agreed. “Do you have things in hand here on the bridge, Captain?” Twilight asked. “I do,” he answered. “Then I hope you don’t mind if we take our leave.” “Not at all, Princess. I’ll send for you when we get closer to Canterlot.” “Thank you, Captain.” Twilight stopped just shy of the first stair leading down, watching Chrysalis with an expectant look in her eyes. “Are you coming?” Wordlessly, Chrysalis glided toward her companion. She spent a moment studying the staircase as Twilight descended. The thin walkway had been designed for the common pony. To her dismay, she stood taller than the ceiling, forcing her to duck as she crawled her way down to the lower decks. “Yeah. You might have to get used to that. Most places Equestria are built for . . . smaller frames,” Twilight said, glancing over her shoulder. “This may come as a shock to you, but so are most Changeling Hives.” As they reached the second floor, the space opened up, allowing Chrysalis to return to her full height, with a few inches of clearance to spare. Twilight guided her to the far end of the hallway, to a set of double doors. “Try not to get your hopes up. It’s smaller than it looks, and the bed isn’t exactly comfortable,” Twilight warned, pushing her way inside. The changeling ducked under the shorter frame to join her. “You can take the bed, if you want,” Twilight offered, motioning toward the small cot in the center of the room. Chrysalis complied, dragging her increasingly heavy self over onto the bed. The lumpy mattress reminded her more of sleeping in her hive, than any civilized bedroom. “I warned you,” Twilight said, watching Chrysalis lay her head against the pillow. With a twinge of pain, she rolled onto her side, pressing her wound against the pillow and obscuring the damaged half of her face. “I’ve slept on rocks before,” she replied, her words flat and distant. “Rocks might be more comfortable.” Twilight shrugged. There was a bitter truth in those words, Chrysalis realized, but something else kept her from drifting off. She could feel the alicorn’s eyes boring into her back. “If you have something to say, then say it.” Her tone sounded harsher than she intended, yet equally pathetic. “There’s dry blood on your back.” “I’m aware.” Chrysalis tapped the plate just behind her shoulder, where she felt Twilight’s stare. “That’s where the Ursa bit me. Cracked right through my plates like a cheap dish.” “Do you want a towel? I could try to clean it off for you.” “No. I’ll take care of it myself when we get back to Canterlot.” Chrysalis felt Twilight’s hesitation, her next question balancing on the tip of her tongue. Eventually, she seemed to gather the courage to ask. “How were you hurt so badly?” Chrysalis sat up, fixing her lone eye on Twilight. “You do realize I won that fight, right? I know for a fact you saw the aftermath.” “I know. And that would be impressive—” “Would be?” Chrysalis furrowed her brow. “If you were anyone else, Twilight . . .” She waved her hoof at the alicorn in a mock display of threat. “I mean, it is impressive. But I also saw how you handled the Nightmare. An Ursa shouldn’t have been that much trouble.” The changeling’s amused expression faded. She retreated back into the bed, her back to Twilight. “I told you, it caught me off guard. If it were a fair fight, that beast wouldn’t have stood a chance. What are you getting at?” “It did catch you off guard. I believe that. That’s how it scratched your face.” “That is correct.” “So how did it bite your back?” “What?” “You know better than to turn your back in a fight. So how did the Ursa bite your back?” Chrysalis didn’t respond. Despite the overwhelming lethargy that overwhelmed her body and mind, she didn’t feel the call of sleep. A feeling she knew all too well. It seemed that Twilight had noticed as well. When she received no answer, Twilight continued unraveling the thread on her own. “You wouldn’t turn your back. That means that the Ursa took the upper hand in your battle. Even without your horn, your magic should have been able to deal with that. I’ve seen what you can do, first-hand.” “Please, stop,” Chrysalis begged, though her plea fell on deaf ears. “Which means something is wrong with your magic. It’s gotten weak.” The changeling flinched, already guessing the next question. “Chrysalis, when was the last time you fed?” “At the castle. After the Nightmare fight. Remember your little show?” “Then why is your magic so weak?” Twilight was standing at the edge of the bed now. “I-It . . . What makes you so sure that it’s weak? I was simply reeling from the first blow, and it took advantage of that,” Chrysalis argued. “I don’t believe that.” While accusatory, Twilight’s words were soft. “Believe what you want, it doesn’t change the truth.” “You didn’t feed off me, did you?” Chrysalis scoffed. “Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?” “Look me in the eye and say that again,” Twilight demanded. Rocketing up, Chrysalis complied, pushing forward until only inches separated their faces. She opened her mouth, ready to scream the words into Twilight’s worried expression. But she didn’t. The words refused to budge from her dry throat. “I . . . “ She relented, bowing her head beneath Twilight’s scrutiny. “I-I did feed off you. Kind of.” “Kind of?” “I fed off the love you felt. But I didn’t feed off you.” Defeated, she flopped back down onto the stony mattress, her eye trained on the ceiling. “And because of that, you didn’t have the magic to fight off the Ursa.” It didn’t sound like a question. Twilight had taken her loose story thread and tied it off into a pretty little bow. “I was being . . . conservative. I knew it would take much of what I had left to fix this.” She touched the claw marks on her cheek. “But it was more brutal than I calculated. It knocked me down and took a bite out of me. By the time I’d defeated it and fixed my back—” “Why?” Twilight demanded, her voice cracking. “I didn’t know when my next meal would be. I would have to conserve—” “Why didn’t you feed off me?” Rather than answer, Chrysalis turned her eye to Twilight. The alicorn stumbled back from the edge of the bed, staring at her hooves as though they were foreign to her. Tears were welling in her eyes. “Did . . . Did I do something wrong?” She asked. Chrysalis rose from the bed. Twilight didn’t look up at her as she approached, taking a seat beside her. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Twilight.” “Then why?” Gently, the changeling put a hoof to Twilight’s face, caressing her cheek while wiping away a tear. The purple fur trembled at her touch, though not in fear. “I . . . couldn’t bring myself to hurt you.” “I don’t believe that you’d hurt me.” “It isn’t so simple, Twilight. If I misjudged your power or took too much energy . . . it would have changed you.” She heard Twilight sniffle. “I wanted to. Celestia knows I wanted to. But I couldn’t take that risk.” “And you nearly died for it. Did you think that I wouldn’t be hurt by that?” Chrysalis wrapped her foreleg around Twilight’s shoulder, pulling her close enough that she could feel the warmth of her skin against her shell. “I think we both know that I haven’t been in the best head state. I . . . misjudged my worth to you.” “Then . . .” Twilight tugged on the black leg over her shoulder, allowing herself to sink into Chrysalis’ embrace. “Will you do it now?” “Feed?” “Off me.” Chrysalis turned away, hiding the blush coloring her cheeks. “I don’t know.” “Then, will you at least tell me about it?” “What?” Chrysalis chuckled. The purple pony lying in her lap wasn’t laughing. “Tell me about how a changeling feeds. I want to know. Maybe there’s a spell that will keep you from hurting me?” Chrysalis glanced around the room, searching for an excuse in the sparse furnishings. “I suppose there’s no harm in that. It’s simple enough.” “First point, you have to feed off of love?” Twilight’s voice adopted a clinical tone as her mind scribbled a list among its contents. “Not necessarily. Technically, we can feed off of any emotion. Love is the strongest of them and is the only one that can provide us enough energy to offset the energy required to drain our prey. Plus, it’s the only one that doesn’t taste absolutely dreadful.” “You can taste the emotions you drain?” Chrysalis stroked her hoof through Twilight’s mane. “We can. We don’t even need to drain the emotion to taste it, though. Every creature gives off a sort of aura based on their mood. When we returned from the Nightmare battle, I could taste your love in the air. Skilled changelings like me are able to draw sustenance directly from that. Though it’s much weaker, the victim doesn’t even notice.” “Victim?” Chrysalis cleared her throat. “Well, what would you call them?” Twilight scratched her chin. “Your meal? No, that’s not better. Target? Okay, I’ll think of a better way to say it.” “Good luck.” The changeling tugged playfully at a pink stripe of hair. “So, what happens when you actually feed?” “Our victim . . . Our prey . . . The one we’re feeding off of is rendered docile beforehand, to keep from resisting. Then, their emotion is forcibly ripped from their bodies. It collects in the air much like their aura. And we can consume it from there.” “That’s . . . grim,” Twilight squeaked. “It is.” “What if your meal doesn’t try to resist. Like when you were pretending to be Cadence. You had control over Shining Armor. He didn’t resist you.” “That’s a little different. Your brother was under my spell. Though I controlled him completely, his spirit still rebelled against my magic. He did not give up his energy freely,” Chrysalis explained, trying not to think about how casually the two of them were discussing such matters. “What about your infiltrators?” “It’s a bit more effective, but still not perfect. It’s not actual love. There is a strange interaction with our magic. Even if we love the ones we infiltrate, there is an inherent dishonesty. It colors the magic. That is one of the biggest changes that Thorax made with his swarm.” “He was honest?” “From what I understand, he and his drones reveal what they are when they feed. There is no trickery involved. In doing so, they should be able to get more energy during a feeding.” “Should?” “It’s still not actual love. It’s closer to lust. A pony meets a changeling. That drone offers them the perfect companion. That companion is the one they love. Maybe a close member of the family they’ve lost. Maybe a fantasy lover they’ve always wanted. It doesn’t matter. It’s honest, yes, but there is no real love there.” “I think I understand,” Twilight nodded. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?” “Never, but I only have one more question for now.” “Ask away.” “What if a pony did fall in love with a changeling?” “Are you referring to yourself?” “It’s a purely hypothetical question. Honest.” She batted her lashes innocently. “Right.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Just answer the question.” “I have no idea.” “Are you kidding me?” “Nope,” Chrysalis stated matter-of-factly. “I’ve never heard of such a thing happening. Let alone what their feeding rituals entailed.” “Never?” “Never.” She emphasized her point with a lazy shake of her head. “Then I’ll consider it a privilege to be the first to learn. Call it an experiment. Remember when you offered to help me out with those?” Twilight smirked. “About that . . .” Chrysalis’ tone turned somber. “Is something wrong?” “I said . . . a lot of things before. I want to start over.” “Start over?” “Despite how I felt about you, our relationship before this was still an act. I never intended for it to become more than that. And if you’re serious about giving this another chance, I want to do it right. No more secrets, no more pretending. A fresh start.” “I suppose we could. We did still kiss, though.” “We did.” “Was that just part of the act?” Chrysalis sighed, thinking for a moment before opening her mouth to answer. She was interrupted by a knock at the door.