Twilight stared at the vaulted arches that lined the ceiling. Those alabaster designs seemed so far away, so foreign to her dazed mind. She pushed herself to move, but the weight of her limbs kept her nailed to the floor. All she could do was lie still and let her body breathe for her. Each rise and fall of her chest did little to silence the ear splitting roar of her pulse.
“Chrysalis?” she rasped.
Her throat felt like a desert, parched beneath the midday sun. The dryness only exaggerated the coppered taste in her mouth. If she had the strength for it, she would have rolled over and emptied her stomach on the long red rug.
“Chrysalis, you there?” she tried again.
“I’m here, Twilight.”
The voice came from the direction of the door. Unfortunately, Chrysalis seemed to be faring no better. Her words were agonized and muffled. Twilight tried to twist her head enough just to spot a glimpse of the changeling, but even that proved too much of a strain for her aching body.
“You alright?” Twilight asked.
“I’m not sure yet.”
It felt like hours before the slightest hint of feeling poured back into her. She reached for the ledge of a nearby table. As soon as she felt confident enough, she pulled hard, summoning just enough strength to lift her to a seated position. Her firm grip kept her upright amidst the spinning room. As soon as Equestria stopped spinning, Twilight scanned the room for Chrysalis. The changeling mare had put a fair few feet of distance between the two of them. She stood with her back toward Twilight. Three of her legs were bowed inward. A stiff breeze would have been enough to send her tumbling over. Her remaining hoof was searching her face. Only when Twilight’s vision cleared further, did she see the red line trickling down Chrysalis’ chitin-clad chin.
“You’re bleeding,” Twilight said calmly.
Chrysalis only continued to wheeze.
The lack of a response only built Twilight’s determination. Psyching herself up, she dragged her body up to a standing position, leaning on the table for support. She stood on shaky legs, but she stood, nonetheless. She battled relentlessly for every inch she traveled. The implements on the table rattled as she stumbled forward. A handful of vials rolled off the edge, shattering on the floor and spilling their multicolored contents. Twilight would berate herself later. For now, she outstretched her hoof toward Chrysalis.
“Don’t touch me,” the changeling shrieked. She scampered out of Twilight’s reach, toppling a table and scattering a stack of parchment in her haste.
“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, recoiling.
“I . . . I need to go.”
Chrysalis moved for the door. She didn’t bother with the lock, simply slamming into the door hard enough to knock it off its hinges. The sound of her steps quickly faded into the distance, along with the ringing echo of shattering glass.
Attempting to follow, Twilight lunged toward the wrecked doorway. In her desperation, she released her crutch. The sudden surge of adrenaline only added to her dizziness, sending her spiraling back down onto her knees. The jerky motion brought with it a fresh wave of nausea. The taste of bile told her she wouldn’t be so lucky with her second bout. She doubled over, her mind focusing on scientific equations and formulas while her body added yet another stain to the carpet.
Luna’s going to have a field-day with this . . .
An icy dread gripped Twilight as she blacked out.
“Lady Chrysalis? Is everything—”
Chrysalis shoved past the guard, knocking him over and sending his spear clattering across the floor. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t stop to apologize. Instead, she kept her focus only on the door at the other end of the hallway. She really hoped it was the right one.
Without slowing, she shoulder-checked the frame. A series of startled yelps exploded from the other side. She didn’t bother waiting for the room’s inhabitants to answer, instead making a beeline for her own door. As she galloped away, she heard the tell-tale creak of hinges, followed by an annoyed, “What in tarnation is all the commotion?”
That would do.
With that taken care of, Chrysalis bolted toward her room. This time, she had the decency to use the handle before bashing through. She kicked the door closed behind her, a shaky hoof sliding the lock shut. As she crawled into the bathroom, she finally allowed herself to breathe.
Swaddled in the dark, she turned the handle of the sink faucet and plunged her head beneath the stream. The shock of freezing water cleared her head almost instantly. She parted her lips, allowing the flow to rinse the blood from her fangs while numbing the crimson tear in her tongue. She didn’t hear the soft knock at the door.
“Chrysalis, Darling? Is everything alright?”
Darling? The unicorn. Rainbow? No. Rarity.
“What did she say?”
That one was Rainbow.
“She didn’t answer.”
“She came sprinting down the hallway like a madmare.”
Pretty sure we don’t know that one. Male. The guard, most likely.
“Where’s Twilight?”
Applejack.
“Last I heard, she was up in her study,” the guard said.
“Take us to her. Now.”
Maybe those girls are smarter than we give them credit for.
“Chrysalis?”
Or not.
“Chrysalis?” Fluttershy called, only barely louder than before.
She turned the faucet up another notch.
“Chrysalis, the others are gone. They’ve gone to find Twilight. It’s just me out here, so will you please open the door?”
The nozzle refused to turn anymore.
“I’m not leaving until you open this door,” the pegasus outside promised. “I’ll stand here all night if I have to. It’s not the first time I’ve had to do this.”
With a resolute sigh, Chrysalis wrenched the faucet to its off position and trotted back out into the main room. On the balcony outside, snow had started to accumulate, reminding her just how cold the night had become. Taking a moment to compose herself, she opened the door, revealing the miniscule form a pale yellow pegasus standing outside. An awkwardly folded grey blanket clung to her shoulders.
“What do you want?” Chrysalis sneered.
“Can I come in?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.
“No. Anything else?”
“Did something happen between you and Twilight?”
“Stop prying.”
“Are you alright?”
Chrysalis’ first thought was to shut the door in her face. She didn’t have the energy to deal with this right now. Not with so much on her mind already. Before she could follow through, a second realization overrode the first.
“What do you care?” she growled.
Fluttershy didn’t hesitate.
“I know that when I’m upset, my fuzzy little animal friends always help cheer me up. I thought maybe you could use a fuzzy little friend to help cheer you up, too.”
“I don’t need cheering up.”
“Oh. Okay, then.” Fluttershy shrank back, pawing at the end of her swirly pink mane. “I just thought that you could use some encouragement. But if you say you’re alright, I don’t want to intrude. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
If it weren’t for the sincere smile that adorned Fluttershy’s face as she spoke, Chrysalis would have taken such an offer as mockery. As the pegasus turned to follow in her friends’ direction, something clicked in Chrysalis. Even as the invite poured forth, she could comprehend neither the words nor their reasoning.
“Fluttershy?”
At the sound of her name, she froze in her tracks, casting a glance over her shoulder.
“You may enter, if you wish.”
Chrysalis stepped back, allowing the door to swing open the rest of the way.
With a skip in her step, Fluttershy accepted, slipping past the shadow-ridden image of the former changeling queen.
“I’ve never seen a fly enter so willingly into a spider’s web,” Chrysalis noted, watching the pegasus canter over toward the couch.
“You know,” Fluttershy began, climbing up to perch on the arm of the sofa, “I think spiders get a bad reputation. I used to care for a spider. Someone had swatted at her, injuring one of her legs. Even so, she used to spin the most beautiful webs.”
“Is that so?” Chrysalis settled into the chair opposite her guest, sinking into the soft cushion. “And what happened to that particular spider?”
“She left in the middle of the night, without even a word of goodbye.”
“Did you ever find her?”
Fluttershy shook her head. “I tried. Turns out, she can be pretty sneaky when she wants to, though.”
“A pity.”
They allowed a moment of silence.
“Do you want to tell me what happened tonight?” Fluttershy finally asked.
“What makes you think anything happened?”
In response, Fluttershy snatched the blanket off her back, tossing it onto the floor between them. In the dim moonlight, Chrysalis could see a dark spot. It looked almost like spilled ink.
“You dropped this,” Fluttershy explained, her tone gentle, yet firm.
“I did.”
“What happened?”
“I . . . made a mistake.”
“What did you do?”
It sounded more curious than accusatory, but that didn’t help settle the maelstrom brewing within Chrysalis.
“I hurt Twilight.”
If she was surprised, Fluttershy hid it well. Nor did the acrid taste of anger emanate from her. Somehow, the lack of emotion made it all the more painful.
“Say something,” Chrysalis snapped.
“Like what?” Fluttershy asked languidly.
“Call the guards. Curse me. Do something other than sit there and judge me.” She rocketed out of her chair.
“That sounds kind of harsh, doesn’t it?”
Chrysalis stepped back. She dropped to her knees, clutching the bloody blanket.
“It’s what I deserve.”
“Is that Twilight’s blood?” Fluttershy asked.
“No.”
“A pony’s?”
“No.”
“Yours, then? Show me.”
Chrysalis found herself a slave to Fluttershy’s commands. She let her tongue slither forth, the wound dripping onto the already stained sheet.
“A bite mark,” Fluttershy noted.
“My own fangs. I . . . I had to do something. It was the first thing that came to mind.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“She . . . she wanted me to feed. She threw herself at me. She thought I could control myself. But I couldn’t.” Chrysalis shook her head. “It all happened so fast. I was hungry, and she was so . . . soft. I lost control.” She trembled as she spoke.
“It’s alright,” Fluttershy cooed.
“It isn’t. I don’t . . . She called for me. Asked me if I was okay. And I didn’t even try to help her. I just ran. I had to get away,” she cried. “I’m sorry.”
“Come on. Let’s go.” Fluttershy said, trying in vain to pull Chrysalis up.
“Go where?” Chrysalis asked.
“We’re going to see Twilight.”
Twilight woke to the sound of snoring. A sound she had sorely missed in the days since she left Ponyville. Her hoof moved instinctively to the side, where it nudged up against warm scales. Spike stirred at her touch.
“Ow. What happened?” Twilight asked to the empty air. While she tried to quell the migraine in her head, she glanced around the room. Her bedroom, she realized. In the dark, she couldn’t see the clock. Given the thin threads of sunlight on the horizon, though, it had to be early morning.
“Twilight?” Cadence appeared at Twilight’s side. “Twilight, is that you?”
“It’s me,” Twilight replied, trying to sit up.
Cadence gingerly took her by the shoulder, holding her steady.
“Easy, Twilight.”
“I’m alright,” Twilight groaned, rubbing her aching temple. “I feel like I got hit by a wagon, though.”
“I’d imagine. Do you remember anything?”
Twilight searched her memories.
“I was in my study with Chrysalis. We were—”
Her eyes snapped wide.
“Calm down, Twilight.”
“Where’s Chrysalis?”
“She’s in her room.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s in far better shape than you were,” Cadence explained. “You’ve been out cold for a few hours, now. We were worried you wouldn’t wake up. She . . . she told us what happened.”
“Is she mad?”
“We’ll talk about all that later. For now, let’s just be happy you’re alright and take this one step at a time. Do you want to try to stand?”
Twilight nodded.
With Cadence’s aide, Twilight eventually shuffled out of bed. She made sure not to disturb Spike, leaving him curled up in the corner of the mattress. She leaned heavily on her sister’s shoulder as the two of them made their way into the hallway outside.
To her amazement, a small crowd had gathered to wait for Twilight. Applejack and Rainbow Dash stood off to the side, engaged in a debate that Twilight couldn’t hear. Rarity had forced some unlucky guard to haul a desk into the passage where she worked on her designs. Pinkie Pie was passing out trays of various sweets to the congregation. Each of their tasks fizzled out when they heard the creak of door hinges.
“Good morning, everyone,” Twilight said, flashing a nervous smile.
Applejack took up Twilight’s other flank, joining Cadence in keeping her upright, despite Twilight’s assurances that she didn’t need help.
“We were so worried about you, Darling,” Rarity chimed.
“We thought you’d never wake up,” Pinkie cried, lunging forward for a hug.
“Calm down, Pinkie. We don’t need to be adding to her injuries,” Applejack said, blocking the pink mare from reaching her intended target.
“Sorry to make you guys worry about me,” Twilight apologized.
“We’re all just glad you’re alright.” Rainbow floated by overhead. “You looked pretty rough when we pulled you out of your lab.”
Twilight frowned, her cheeks burning red.
“I heard. I should probably apologize to whoever got stuck cleaning the place up.”
“Isn’t that just like you, Twilight. Almost died, but she’s still more worried about the folks cleaning up the mess,” Applejack chuckled.
The rest of the group chimed in with laughs of their own.
Twilight scanned the gathered faces.
“Where is everyone else?” she asked.
“Fluttershy and Shining are with Chrysalis,” Cadence explained.
“And Luna?”
“She stopped by hourly to check on you. She’ll be glad to know everything turned out okay.”
A door opened at the end of the hallway. Chrysalis’ door, specifically. Out stepped Fluttershy and Shining Armor. They made it halfway across the room before noticing the crowd gathered around a certain purple pony.
“Twily!” Shining Armor shouted, rushing toward his sister.
Applejack moved to intercept again, but Twilight slipped free, meeting him halfway. The two clashed in an embrace.
“How you doing, Sis?” he asked.
“I’m alright. I promise,” Twilight answered.
“You really had me going for a little bit, there,” Shining admitted. she could feel his tears soaking into her fur, causing her own eyes to water.
“And leave you and all my friends behind? Never,” Twilight said, squeezing her brother.
The sound of stepping hooves drew focus to Fluttershy. She, too, was smiling. Behind those pearly whites, though, was a solemn pain.
Fluttershy waited for Shining to release his sister before taking her turn with the princess.
“Welcome back,” she whispered.
“How is she?”
“I think you’re better off seeing that for yourself,” Fluttershy lamented, stepping aside to let Twilight see Chrysalis. The changeling stood at the back of the group, unable to meet Twilight’s gaze. The princess tried to step forward. When she did, Chrysalis shuffled back. At a stalemate, they waited, allowing the silence to fester.
“Girls!” Cadence called out, “Why don’t we give these two some privacy?”
At the princess’ command, the party scattered back to their rooms or to their daily chores, leaving only Twilight and Chrysalis standing alone in the empty hallway.
“Chrysalis—”
“I nearly killed you, Twilight Sparkle.”
“You—"
“I told you it was dangerous. I told you not to do it. But you didn’t listen to me. And it nearly cost you everything. Do you understand how close you came to the edge of that abyss?”
“Hey, I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“Don’t give me that crap, Twilight,” Chrysalis barked, tears starting down her cheeks. “I lost control! I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t stop.”
Twilight’s ears flattened.
“I’m sorry, Chrysalis.”
“I thought I killed you.”
Twilight took another experimental step. This time, Chrysalis didn’t flinch.
“I know it was dangerous—”
“Dangerous doesn’t begin to cover it!”
“But we needed your magic.”
“You don’t get to lie to me, Twilight. Not now. Not after everything that happened. I felt your emotions when you kissed me. I know why you did it. And . . . ”
Chrysalis broke down.
Twilight comforted her, nuzzling her neck, while holding her tightly.
“And I’m sorry, Twilight.”
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
“I should have told you what would happen. I should have made you understand. I knew what you were thinking the moment you locked that door. I should have fought. I should have thrown myself through the window to get away.”
“The window?” Twilight asked, chucking as her own tears began.
“But I didn’t. Because somewhere, deep down, I wanted it. I needed it.”
“Hungry ponies do crazy things. I assume hungry changelings are similar.”
“Not because I was hungry, Twilight. Because it was you. I wanted you.”
“Me?”
“I love you, Twilight. But I have to fight it, constantly. Changelings aren’t meant for love. We’re meant to prey. To consume. To destroy. When you asked me to feed off you, I wanted to. More than anything in the world. But if I give in to that want, I’ll hurt you. Just like I did. It’s the way I am.”
“I didn’t know.”
“It’s why changelings don’t fall in love, Twilight. It’s why we keep our emotions constantly suppressed. When you kissed me, it was like lighting the fuse on a cannon. I want to be with you, Twilight. But I don’t know if we can.”
Twilight took hold of Chrysalis’ hooves.
“Do you remember what I told you?” she asked, wiping the changeling’s cheek.
Chrysalis shook her head.
“I told you that we would find a way. Maybe this time things got a little out of hand.”
“A little out of hand?” Chrysalis blurted.
“Just a bit,” Twilight confirmed, “But we’ve got plenty of time to figure this out. And we will, someday. Together. I promise.”
“You’re crazy, Twilight.” Chrysalis whispered under her breath.
Twilight leaned forward, planting a kiss on Chrysalis cheek.
“And you love it.”