//------------------------------// // 55: Second Chances // Story: Death of a Queen // by Arkane12 //------------------------------// “Twilight? Are you in there?” Spike called through the door. “Seriously, if you’re in there, answer me. I’ve been looking all over the castle for you. It’s time to wake up.” He turned the handle and pulled. To his surprise, the door swung open. He stepped inside, stumbling blindly in the dark. He kept his arms outstretched, searching along the wall. When he reached the light switch, he flipped it on, only to be disappointed by the lack of response. Muttering to himself, he navigated over to the window. With the aid of a nearby chair, he yanked the blinds open, bathing the room in sunlight. “Turn that off, Spike. It’s too bright,” Twilight moaned from under the covers. She lifted her head high enough to pluck one of the pillows out from under it and used it to block out her face as she burrowed deeper into the bed. “You want me to turn off the sun?” Spike asked, glancing out at the midday sky. “You know what I mean. Close the blinds.” Spike hopped up onto the bed. “Come on, Twilight. We still have a lot of work to do finishing Celestia’s cure. You don’t want to waste another day, do you?” He struggled to pry Twilight’s fluffy shield from her grasp. “Just give me a few more minutes, Spike. I’ve got a really bad headache.” “A few more minutes? It’s already past noon.” Twilight shot up. Without her grip to counter his, Spike tumbled backwards onto the floor, landing victoriously on the stolen pillow. “Noon?” “Yeah.” Spike pointed nonchalantly to the window. “I spent all morning searching the castle for you. What are you doing here?” Twilight studied her surroundings. She recognized Chrysalis’ room, summoning back a hazy recollection of the previous night. Unfortunately, the room’s owner seemed to be absent from the premises. “I went to see Chrysalis last night. She should be here.” Spike shook his head. “I haven’t seen her around, either.” He glanced fitfully around the room, as though she might be hiding somewhere nearby. “I guess I can add that to the list, too.” Twilight tossed her legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the cold tile beneath her hooves. She reached instinctively to rub her neck, hoping to quell the ache in her head. A sharp pain caused her to sleep-addled nerves to wince. With a gentler touch, she brushed against the two pinpricks in her neck. “You alright?” Spike asked. Twilight grinned as she hid the wounds beneath her fur. As sick as it sounded, she found herself secretly hoping they would scar. “My head’s killing me,” she explained. “I think I might have had a little much to drink last night.” “Since when do you drink?” Spike wondered as he helped her stand. “I don’t.” She cleared her throat. “But Rarity was insistent. And I needed it.” “Right,” Spike nodded. Twilight checked her mane in the bathroom mirror. After herding a few stray locks into place, she rejoined Spike in the bedroom. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” “Finishing up Celestia’s cure,” Spike said. “Supposing everything goes according to plan, it should be ready for Celestia tonight. Just think about it, Twilight. This might all be over soon.” “Hard to believe. It seems like we’ve been here in Canterlot too long. I can’t wait to get home. Think Ponyville misses us?” “I know they do.” “Well, then what are we standing around for?” Twilight helped Spike up onto her back. “Let’s get to work.” “I almost forgot. I’m going to need you to do me a favor, Spike,” Twilight stopped just outside her laboratory. “If we’re going to finish up today, we’re going to need Chrysalis. Hopefully, she’ll be able to help us test the new concoction without too much trouble.” “You need me to find her?” Spike asked, already sliding down. “That would be helpful. I’ll stay up here and get everything else ready.” “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see if I can track down Starlight, too. Just in case.” Spike marched off like a toy soldier. Twilight watched him until he rounded the corner, leaving her standing alone in the hallway. Trying her best to ignore the pounding pressure in her skull, she pushed open the lab door just enough to slip inside. To Twilight’s confusion and tepid annoyance, the lights were already on. She muttered under her breath, cursing herself for leaving them on. Her rant was interrupted when she noticed the stack of crates on the far side of the room. Twilight peered around, looking for a note from the cleaning crew that might shed some light on the situation. When no explanation revealed itself, Twilight turned her inspection toward the boxes themselves. From a preliminary scan, she noticed they were the same ones that had been removed only a few days prior. Unlike before, though, the entire ensemble had been arranged in a ring and cushioned with over a dozen different blankets. Luckily, whoever had redecorated the room had enough sense to leave her experiments undisturbed. Twilight inspected the setup more thoroughly, just in case. With each piece she approved of, her pride in her assistant blossomed. As she studied one of the final beakers, a figure moved in the reflection of the glass. Twilight tried to turn and face the intruder. Before she could move a muscle, a heavy frame dove from above, pinning the princess to the floor. “You let your guard down, Sleepyhead,” Chrysalis teased, ruffling her victim’s mane. “Chrysalis?” Twilight asked. “What are you doing up here?” “Working.” The changeling motioned to the pile of crates. “It took a while to track them all down, but I think it was worth it in the end.” “Huh. I didn’t expect to see you here. I didn’t even think you could find this place on your own.” A purple flash erupted through the room, dropping Chrysalis onto the floor with a grunt. Twilight stood over the changeling, smoothing her mane back into place. “You know, if you needed help, you could’ve woke me up.” Chrysalis rolled onto her back. “I thought about it. But you looked so adorable lying there. I couldn’t bring myself to ruin it.” The joy in Twilight’s face faltered, replaced with awe. She approached the defenseless changeling, running a hoof along her scarred cheek. She couldn’t look away from those sparkling emerald eyes. “What are you doing?” Chrysalis asked, playfully pushing Twilight’s hoof away. “Your eye,” Twilight said, entranced. “My mother always told me they were my best feature.” Chrysalis’ scarred eye was open and undamaged. “I couldn’t have done it without your help last night.” “You fed off me?” Twilight asked. “I guess that would explain the headache.” “That’s a good guess, but wrong. The love you felt last night gave me more than enough energy. Don’t try and tell me you didn’t notice it. That intoxicating sweetness in the night air. I know you could taste it.” “I didn’t know what it was.” “That was love, Twilight. Real love. Something I haven’t tasted in a long time. But we can talk more about that later. I know you didn’t come here looking for me.” Chrysalis pointed to the alchemy supplies scattered around the table. “And, I didn’t touch anything, if you were wondering.” Chrysalis retreated to her nest. From her perch, she watched Twilight double-check calculations and measurements. “You’re not busy, are you?” Twilight inquired. “What do you need?” “When this potion is done, it will need to be tested. And unfortunately, simple spells like last time clearly won’t cut it. We’re going to need something more specialized.” Chrysalis reached down into one of the crates, pulling out a surprisingly hearty tree branch. The green leaves on it were starting to wither. The changeling climbed down from her throne and offered it to Twilight. “What is this?” “I told you I was busy this morning.” Chrysalis drew Twilight’s attention to a blackened spot on the bark. Thin black lines webbed out from the single point. Each thread ended at one of the darkening leaves. “A tree branch?” “When I left yesterday, I went down to visit Celestia. Among other things, I spent some time studying her wound. It’s not a perfect recreation, but it’s about as close as I can get without my horn.” “You were one step ahead. Good work,” Twilight lauded. She set the branch aside and continued her work with the potion. This time, though, Chrysalis stayed at her side, watching each move closely, trying desperately to understand the method to Twilight’s madness. “Finished,” Twilight declared, marking off the final line on her parchments. “Already? That was quick.” Chrysalis asked. “What? Oh. The cure was practically finished yesterday. Spike and I left it overnight to cook. All I had to do today was make sure no long-term issues reared their ugly heads. But my checklist is complete. I think it’s safe to move on to testing.” Twilight stepped back, putting several feet between herself and the table. “Well?” Chrysalis asked. “What’re you waiting for?” “You might want to step back, first,” she warned. Chrysalis glanced over at the tree branch lying on the table. “Are you expecting it to explode?” “No.” “Then why are you standing so far away?” “Because I never expected to be an alicorn, either. Life has a funny way of playing with expectations. Like a changeling queen falling for a pony.” With a gentle nod, Chrysalis took a generous hop back. From a distance, Twilight plucked the potion from its stand, hovering it over to the test subject with a steady magic hand. Chewing her lip in concentration, Twilight spilled a few drops over the branch, directly over the wound. It took them several seconds to realize they weren’t breathing. “Did it work?” Chrysalis wondered aloud. “Last time, it took a while, remember? We just have to watch and see what happens.” “Last time, it didn’t work, Twilight.” The alicorn shrugged. “Well, we’ll just have to wait. Normally, I’d have Spike keep an eye out for any transformations, but since he’s not here . . .” Twilight constructed a small writing space on one of the nearby tables. From it, she watched her experiment closely, her dry quill tapping against the paper. “You’re just going to sit here and watch?” Chrysalis asked, peeking over Twilight’s shoulder. “Yes. That’s how science works. Experiment and observe effects. Adjust if necessary. It’s pretty simple if you think about it.” Chrysalis retrieved another chair, setting it up beside her. “Simple? Maybe. Boring? Definitely.” “It’s important, though.” “If you say so.” Chrysalis froze mid-slouch. “Actually, now that you mention it, where is Spike? I think he was running around looking for you this morning.” “Yeah. He woke me up after you left. I told him to—” Her quill stopped tapping. “For Celestia’s sake, he’s looking for you.” She sighed. “I should probably send someone after him.” “Want me to go find him? It would be appropriate.” Chrysalis chuckled at the thought. “No. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Spike can take care of himself. Besides, I think he said he was going to find Starlight, too. She’ll bring him back eventually.” “So, then what should we do while we’re waiting?” Chrysalis tilted back farther in her chair until the front two legs were off the ground. “Focus on observation,” Twilight ordered. “We could talk?” Chrysalis suggested. “I just told you we have to watch for any changes in the test subject.” “We can do both.” “Alright,” Twilight said, unamused. “What would you like to talk about?” Chrysalis blew a hasty breath. “I don’t know. How’s the weather today?” “Cold,” Twilight answered nonchalantly. The changeling straightened her chair. “I thought you liked the cold? That’s what you told me last night.” “I said a lot of things last night,” Twilight pouted. “Speaking of last night . . . I didn’t overstep my bounds, did I?” “What do you mean?” Twilight turned to Chrysalis. “The things I said. Claiming you. That’s what you wanted, right? Tell me I didn’t screw it up.” Twilight set her quill back in the inkwell. She reached out, putting a hoof on Chrysalis’ leg. “You didn’t screw anything up. I’m happy you decided to pick me.” She returned her focus to her observations. “Although, I’m not really sure why you keep calling it that.” “What? Claiming?” “Yeah. You claimed me?” Chrysalis teased a knot out of her mane. “It’s an old Changeling tradition. Do you remember what I told you last night? About Changelings and love? It’s a rare emotion among our kind. But it’s not unheard of. To demonstrate that sort of attraction—” “You share your mind with one another.” “Sort of.” Chrysalis bit the edge of her hoof. “We already share our minds. There is no need to vocalize such feelings with one another. But with races outside of our hivemind . . . things get a little complicated. Changelings are excellent at faking romance, but they’re not great at the real thing.” “But isn’t that—” “And before you ask, they’re not the same thing.” Twilight closed her mouth. “Anyways,” Chrysalis continued. “To get around that, we found a way to . . . connect with those outside the hive. Like a pony.” “That’s amazing. I didn’t know changelings could do something like that.” “Changelings are capable of many strange feats. Especially when love is involved. Normally, such a ritual can be carried out using magic. I had to do it the old-fashioned way. Keep in mind that such a thing hasn’t been done in . . . centuries, probably. You should feel honored, Twilight Sparkle.” “I do,” Twilight giggled. Throughout the pause in their conversation, Chrysalis heard the scratching of a pen. Her head snapped toward the branch, still sitting on the desk. Seeing no obvious changes, she craned her neck to see Twilight’s notes. She could only pick up fragments of the scribblings. From the few legible bits, she realized the scrawls listed out every bit of information Chrysalis had just told her. She bit back a smile. “Just so you can add this to your records,” Chrysalis began, “I don’t want you to think that just because I Claimed you, that means you’re stuck with me. It’s not legally binding or anything.” Twilight cast her a sideways glance but added the addendum. “Oh, and Twilight?” “Yeah?” “You might want to take a look at your experiment.” Twilight’s head whipped around back to the tree branch. A black, inky substance leaked from the gouge in the bark. In a frenzy, she flipped to a new page, hastily adding every observation she could make. “Do you see that?” she asked, her eyes wide. “What?” Chrysalis leaned in for a closer look where Twilight was pointing. The dark veins along the branch had retracted. Eventually, the ink stopped flowing, leaving a perfectly healthy branch sitting alone on the research table.