//------------------------------// // 52: A Stained Relationship // Story: Death of a Queen // by Arkane12 //------------------------------// “Why did we come back here?” Chrysalis asked, staring at Twilight’s sigil painted across the door. “I thought we were going to your study?” “We are. I just needed to fetch some things from my room, first,” Twilight explained. In the span of her first step across the threshold, the princess set her magic to work. A storm of magic pulled the books from her shelves and scattered the papers on her desk. She hummed quietly as she gathered the materials into a neatly categorized pile on the table. Satisfied with her work, she retrieved the final piece of her puzzle: the dragon snoozing at the foot of her bed. A shimmering aura enveloped him, lifting him from the cushions and dragging him back into the realm of the conscious. “Hey!” Spike cried as he somersaulted through the air. Rather than add him to the pile with the rest of her academic materials, Twilight set the dragon on her back. She waited for him to steady himself before releasing her spell. “Good afternoon, Spike,” she said with a smile. “Afternoon?” He yawned. “I guess I overslept.” “That’s alright. It just means you’ll be well-rested for our work today.” “Work?” “Yup. You’re going to be helping me work on the next iteration of Celestia’s cure. We might be pulling an all-nighter if we have to.” “Are you sure he’s up for such a task, Twilight?” Chrysalis asked. “Of course he is,” Twilight shot back. “Spike’s my number one assistant. He’s helped me with thousands of my experiments over the years.” “If you say so,” Chrysalis relented. “I do.” Twilight waved her horn, lifting the entire stack of supplies from the floor of her room without breaking their formation. “Now, let’s get moving. We’ve got a lot of work to do today.” Chrysalis could only stand aside as a library’s worth of ink and paper floated by. “Do you need me to carry something?” “Nope. I’ve got this,” Twilight chirped. The princess and her dragon chattered relentlessly as they hauled their materials through the veins of the castle, nearly toppling a vase and knocking a painting off the wall in their unwieldiness. Chrysalis stayed a few steps behind, only occasionally bothering to spare their conversation a listen. “I went through all the shelves in the lab the other day, actually. It was kind of weird. The maids had all the shelves categorized alphabetically by title,” Spike said. “I know,” Twilight bemoaned. “I appreciate that they do their best to keep my lab clean, but I can never find anything when they’re done. I tried to explain the system to them, but they just stared at me like I was the crazy one.” “Well, I went in after them the last time. It took a little over an hour, but I managed to make sure everything was in order for you.” “You’re a lifesaver, Spike. That will speed this up considerably.” “I’m just happy to be back. I like Starlight, but traveling with Trixie can be a tiny bit . . .” “Terrible? Awful? Intolerable?” Twilight suggested. “I was going to say interesting.” Spike scratched the scales on the back of his neck. “You know, Twilight, Trixie and Starlight are getting pretty close. You might have to get over this whole rivalry thing with her.” “I know.” Twilight sighed. “She’s just so . . .” “Interesting?” Spike suggested. “Sure.” They finally arrived at the entrance to Twilight’s study. Spike hopped down from his perch and moved to open the door before motioning the mares inside. When Chrysalis refused to step inside, he tilted his head curiously. “Something wrong?” he asked. “Go on inside. I just need a minute to myself,” Chrysalis explained. Spike frowned, but complied, leaving the changeling standing alone in the hallway outside. From here, Chrysalis could see the main aisle of the lab. A cleaning crew had come through, putting everything back in order after the two of them had wrecked the lab. Only a single trace remained to prove to Chrysalis that she hadn’t misremembered: a dark stain on the rug, complement of Twilight. It didn’t seem like the princess noticed. Instead, she was focused on doling out the hoard she brought with her, writing a mental list as she organized. Sensing the changeling’s lingering gaze, Twilight turned. “What?” “Nothing,” Chrysalis said, her voice a whisper. She shook yesterday’s memories from her mind, forcing herself to cross the threshold. Only to be battered by another realization. She stared at the empty space beneath the window. With a mournful groan, she settled down at what had been the center of her nest. She let her body fall flat, resting her head on her outstretched forelegs. “I think that’s everything,” Twilight boasted as she surveyed her academic display. “Spike, can you fetch me that academic bestiary. The third volume, specifically. I need that section on manticores for reference.” “Manticores?” Spike asked, moving swiftly to the exact shelf. “Yes. Fluttershy made a point about Celestia’s wound being similar to manticore venom. I’ve been using manticore antivenom as a template.” Spike relinquished the tome, already opened to the correct page. “You’re sure that’ll work? Manticore venom has a pretty negligible magical basis.” “It won’t be actually designed for manticore venom. Just a similar method for a basic antivenom. I’ll adapt it for changeling magic from there.” Despite the passion inherent in their exchanges, Chrysalis had already lost interest. She exhaled quickly through her nose. She searched desperately for something to occupy her mind. Unfortunately, the only thing she hadn’t grown bored of within the hour was that stain. Each time she returned to it, the memories battered her mental dam. It didn’t help when she started chewing the mending flesh of her tongue. “What do you need me to do again?” she wondered aloud. “When the second batch of the cure is finished, we’ll have to test it against your magic.” Twilight’s words were muffled by Spike, fiddling with a mortar and pestle. “It’s the same thing we did last time. You didn’t forget that already, did you?” “I remember,” Chrysalis growled. The changeling’s tone snagged Twilight’s concentration. “That’s . . . good?” Twilight nodded, trying to temper her own reaction. “I mean, how could I forget. It’s why you needed me to feed, right?” A vial slipped free from Twilight’s magical grasp, landing on the table with an echoing thunk. “You alright, Twilight?” Spike asked, catching the test tube before it could roll off the edge. “I’m fine, Spike.” “Okay. I think you dropped this.” He handed her the vial. “I did. Oh no. Spike, I think it cracked,” she said, not bothering to look down at the glass in his claws. “Do you think you could run down to the storeroom and grab me a new one?” Spike tilted his head slightly. “I don’t see any—” “Just get me a new one, Spike. Please?” “Right.” He backed toward the door, finally aware that he had missed something crucial. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, before slipping out. Twilight turned the page in her book. The crinkle of paper sounded loud as thunder in the silence. “So,” Twilight began. “So,” Chrysalis continued. “You going to tell me what that was about?” “What-ever are you talking about?” Chrysalis asked with feigned ignorance. Twilight recovered her ampoule from where Spike had left it. She gathered powder from a stone bowl, mixing it with a strange ochre liquid before pouring them both into the glass. “If you have something to say, I’m listening.” “I don’t like being back in here,” Chrysalis grumbled. “Is that all?” Twilight questioned; her voice remained perfectly steady. “All of what?” “Is that all you have to say?” “Yes,” Chrysalis stated resolutely. Another long pause filled the distance between them. Each muted second only stoked the flames in Chrysalis’ chest. “Well?” she demanded. “Well what?” Twilight’s voice barely constituted a whisper. Chrysalis jumped up from her makeshift bed. “Say something.” The crunch of breaking glass filled the air. Slick shards scattered across Twilight’s workspace. With a huff, she dispelled her power, letting the last few bits fall among their kin. Unnerved by the sharp crack, Chrysalis flinched. “What do you want me to say?” Twilight snarled. Chrysalis stammered. “I didn’t mean—” “I screwed up!” Twilight’s shoulders heaved; her hooves trembled. “I’m sorry for what I did to you . . . for what I forced you to do. I know it was selfish. I wish that I could take it back. I wish I could change the past. But nothing I could say or do will ever erase that. So tell me what to say to fix this and I’ll say it.” Chrysalis paled. “I-I didn’t mean it like that, Twilight.” The princess simply shook her head and sighed. She started gathering the jagged glass, sweeping it into a dustbin that she held at the table’s edge. “If you don’t want to be here, then just go. I’ll send for you when I need you,” Twilight said. She drew another set of glasses and started her mixture again. Without another word, Chrysalis shuffled past Twilight, her good eye locked firmly on the floor tiles. She closed the door gently behind her before collapsing against the wall beside it. “Well, you’ve done it now, Chrysalis,” she muttered to herself. “Are you okay?” Her head snapped upward. Spike sat on the other side of the doorway, fiddling with his claws. “What are you doing here? I thought Twilight sent you to fetch supplies.” “There . . . there is no storeroom in the castle that has lab supplies. Everything for her lab is kept on the shelves in there.” “Oh.” “How much did you hear?” “I… I didn’t hear anything,” Spike lied. “Right.” Spike clambered up from his spot, crossing over to sit beside Chrysalis. “Want to talk about it?” he asked. She answered without saying a word. “I wouldn’t sweat it too much. Twilight takes some getting used to, sometimes,” Spike explained. “Why are you taking my side, Dragon?” “I’m not taking sides.” He shrugged. “I’m sure you two will work it out. And my name is Spike.” “You think so?” “I’m pretty sure. If not, I’m not sure why Twilight keeps calling me that.” Chrysalis’ head turned slowly toward Spike. The young dragon looked far too amused. “That’s not . . .” Despite her best efforts to keep her stony demeanor, Chrysalis found her lips curl slightly upward. Spike clicked his tongue, winking as he stood. “I know what you meant. Look, I might be young, but I’ve learned a lot in my short life. Especially about Twilight. If you ever need to talk, my offer still stands.” He turned and made his way for the door. “Spike?” He turned back toward the changeling. “Yeah?” “Why don’t you hate me? The rest of Twilight’s friends try to act friendly, but I know how they feel about me. Luna tried to kill me. Twice. So why are you being so nice to me?” Spike tapped a claw against the scales on his chin. “The first time everyone met Thorax, they treated him like a threat. Discord turned Ponyville upside down. Starlight nearly ended all of existence with her magic. And now they’re good friends. I know everyone else will come around. You just have to give them time.” Chrysalis didn’t stop him as he turned to leave the second time. The dragon’s words swirled around her head. Do you actually believe any of that? “He seemed pretty sure of himself,” Chrysalis mused. He’s a child. Children are always sure of themselves. You know better than to trust him. “You’re not helping.” Are you trying to tell me that you’re going to take him up on that offer? “No.” Chrysalis rose to her hooves. “But there is someone else that I can talk to.” With determination in her steps, she set off for Celestia’s room.