“It was a gift,” Pharynx finished explaining his plan. The office was almost silent, save for the ticking of clocks. “It costs so much magic, and so much Love, that only one ‘ling in a generation could be granted the Rite of Restoration. A changeling who had risen above and beyond the call of duty. A changeling who championed our ideals to a degree that none could match. Even now, with all the Love we have… it would probably take a decade to recover what we’d lose in casting it.
“But for over a thousand years,” he said with a cold hiss, “it was just Chrysalis’ tool for staying in power.”
“That’s…” Celeste could hardly find the words. Her mouth worked, and worked, but no sound came out. She couldn’t quite articulate what she was feeling, it seemed.
Neither could Twilight Sparkle, who sank down into her seat back in her office. The clocks ticked away the seconds, one after another. And, perhaps for the first time, she felt like she was hearing each second pass ponderously from the future, to the past.
From potential, to ending.
Life to death.
“Eternal youth?” she said at last, in a quiet whisper.
Pharynx nodded.
“A drone will, barring accidents and assuming they take care of themselves, live about as long as an earth pony, or maybe half again as long.” He chuckled, and pointed at himself. “Even Ocellus and the ‘Brain bugs’ back home who research all this stuff for us don’t know how much longer a Royal can live. But it isn’t forever.
“Chrysalis reigned over us for over a thousand years,” he added with emphasis in his tone. “And it was because of the Restoration spell.”
Celeste shook her head, and gasped. “That’s ridiculous! Age spells are almost completely useless for living longer, so how…?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Pharynx said with a roll of his eyes, “if it doesn’t work for unicorns, it can’t work, right?”
“That’s not…!”
A large purple wing snapped open in front of Celeste’s face, cutting her reply off there.
“Please, Pharynx,” Twilight said in a strangely calm voice, “continue.”
He stared at her for a moment. Her eyes were… somewhat boring into him, at the moment. It was rather unnerving.
Then again, you’ve got five less-than-immortal friends, he thought. Must be something you’ve thought of.
“Changeling biology,” he gave as an answer. “Ponies are, like… these bundled up knots of fate and destiny magic. You’re all about being expressions of your true, inner self. Right? I thought that was how Ocellus described it.”
Twilight nodded, but said nothing. Celeste, despite the way she was glaring across the table, was also taking down notes with a quill and parchment trapped in her magic aura.
Pharynx continued. “So, transformation magic is really tough for you. Age spells need concentration. Species-swapping needs a model to work even partway. And from what I know, switching gender is almost impossible because of how complicated your internal systems work.
“Changelings find change really easy,” he said with a short, dark chuckle. “We’re almost designed to do it. But even then, we always go back to our base form.”
Celeste hummed, and tugged at a loose lock of mane. “I sense a but incoming…”
Pharynx nodded. “Throw enough magic and Love at the problem, and you can fix that. Age spells, given enough juice, will eventually stick. The Restoration Spell is… really just a big age spell.
“Chrysalis would always get the lion’s share of any Love the Hive collected,” he continued, gesturing at unseen forms with his hooves. “And she’d spend the bulk of it on a couple of trained changeling mages to take a few decades off every so often.”
Twilight frowned, and pursed her lips.
“And…” she said, slowly, one eyebrow rising in confusion. “…you want to use it on her again?”
“Sort of,” Pharynx whispered, his voice suddenly unsure. “I helped her cast it the last time she needed it. But while she ‘explained’ how it worked to us, I could tell she was holding something back.”
“Which was?” asked the Princess.
“That you could increase the number of casters, and the amount of Love used by the spell,” he said. Pharynx folded his forelegs across his barrel, and sighed. “Get enough of either, and you could be whatever age you wanted. Like I said; it was supposed to be a gift. Just one more thing she ruined…”
“Again…” Celeste leaned across the table, almost falling into Twilight’s lap, and asked, “Why would you want to use it again?”
Pharynx fidgeted in his seat a bit. He looked like he was… sea sick, or something. Or like somecreature was pulling a tooth out of him.
“Changelings can’t use their magic until they reach a certain age,” he finally said. “If we made Chrysalis young enough… she wouldn’t have any magic. None at all.”
“And there won’t be… any other changes?” Twilight asked, her own curiosity peeking through. “Age spells cast by unicorns have… side effects.”
“Memory loss, personality changes…” Celeste began counting off.
Pharynx cut her off with a shake of his head.
“Our biology is practically designed for this stuff. At worst… she’ll have the emotional control of someling her age. Something to do with the glands, or brain development…”
A frown cut deep across his brow.
“Ocellus could have explained it better… but no matter.” He looked back up to the Princess with a gleam in his eye. “It will still be her. Chrysalis, I mean. Just… smaller.”
The Princess glanced at her magical advisor. Celeste glanced back.
There was that look again. Curious, cautious… but curious all the same.
“Alright,” Twilight said as she readied her pen and parchment once more. “From the top. How precisely will this work…?”
“Wow,” Ocellus sighed. She stared at her hooves, and said, “You… really trusted them.”
Pharynx nodded, but said nothing.
“And… they understand it can only work on changelings?” asked Ocellus. “I know the idea of that spell could be trouble if ponies don’t realize what it costs in Love and magic.”
Again, he nodded. “Eyup.”
“She can’t be more than… what? Five?”
“Seven,” Pharynx corrected.
“Seven,” Ocellus repeated, awed by the arcane wonder standing just outside her door. She silently wished she’d had tea in the house. Or some milk and sugar on hoof. She really needed a drink, right now. Or at least something to do with her hooves. “But over a thousand on the inside…”
The changelings sat in continued silence. Neither could look directly at the other, and neither wanted to look over to the front door, through which the guards were currently watching the prisoner.
“Well…” Ocellus sighed again, though this time with a certain level of contentment behind it. “Can’t say this wasn’t exciting!”
Pharynx raised an eyebrow at her sudden chipper attitude.
She turned towards him, and gave the fakest smile she’d ever shown anycreature.
“We should do this again, sometime,” she said, teeth bared. She leapt to the air, and her wings buzzed to life. “But, I gotta get back to school and take back my classroom. Knowing Smolder, she probably got Sweetie Belle or Apple Bloom to cover for me so far, but I should really…”
“Ocellus,” Pharynx said in a slow, warning tone. “Do you know why I’m here?”
Sweat glistened off Ocellus’ bright blue carapace.
“No?” she asked, hopefully, through her straining smile.
“I think you do.”
Ocellus remained airborne for another moment… and then came crashing down to her cushioned seat again.
“Gah!” she snorted, angrily. “Come on! WHY!?”
“Lus…”
“No, really!” Ocellus cried out, forelimbs slapping the sides of her chair as she panicked and hollered. “You know what my… I mean, I told you when we first started… I…”
Without a word, Pharynx stood up from his seat. In only a few strides, he was already across the floor, and came right up to Ocellus.
The bright blue changeling’s eyes were focused somewhere else, and somewhen else. Likely that crystal cave beneath the school she’d told Pharynx about once. The roots of the Tree of Harmony itself. Likely, every memory of that place was playing all at once in her head.
Including the memory of being Chrysalis.
Pharynx didn’t think much about things like that. Fear was fear. He only knew two ways to get past it. Hit it, or run from it. And watching Ocellus melt down in front of him… he seemed to know which way was needed now.
“I… I can’t be her caretaker!” Ocellus screamed, her voice becoming shrill. “She’s a… and I’m not a… but I…”
Her heart rate, previously pounding in her ears… slowed. A pair of long, warm, chitinous limbs found their way around her shoulders. They wrapped around her back, and their combined warmth started to seep through her own hardened exterior.
A blush formed on her cheeks, as she realized what was happening.
Pharynx’s hugs were pretty awesome. Just as good as she remembered them being.
“Hey,” he whispered, mouth next to her ear, “it’s okay. It’s all okay, Ocellus. I… I won’t make you do it, if you don’t want to.”
Ocellus felt her heart rate plummeting, and her breathing falling back under her control. She couldn’t quite get her hooves up to wipe her eyes of the little tears that had formed… but she also didn’t feel a pressing need to break the hug, just yet.
“Why, though?” she asked. “Why me?”
“Because I…” Pharynx swallowed. “… because I knew you were the absolute best changeling for the job…”
“ABSOLUTELY BUCKING NOT!” Pharynx screamed.
The Princess’ face didn’t budge an inch.
“Pharynx, she’s your own Ambassador of Friendship, a Bearer of the Elements, and one of the most decorated and celebrated models of friendship in all of Equestria! She’s perfect for being Chrysalis’ caretaker!”
“I said no!” Pharynx snarled. “I’m not letting that monster come within a hundred miles of Ocellus! I’ve done enough to her without letting a sociopath loose in her house!”
“Pretty sure you lost your Protective Boyfriend rights a while ago…”
Twilight’s eyes flickered to one side. “Celeste, enough,” she said with a flash of iron in her voice.
Pharynx slammed a hoof down onto the table.
“No means no!” he cried. “You’ll just have to add someling else to your shortlist! You cannot make Ocellus do this!”
Twilight sighed, but never broke eye contact with the snarling, angry, bordering-on-crying Prince.
The sight disturbed her. Not that it wasn’t gratifying to know the stone-faced changeling could cry. But it was always Thorax who seemed to teeter on the edge of emotional duress. Pharynx was the tougher one of the pair, much like Princess Luna was always the stern, take-charge member of the Royal Sisters back in the day.
Seeing somecreature so strong in this way, and hearing his voice nearly crack… was hard to bear.
“Pharynx,” she said, sofly. “You know she’ll do it, if we ask her. She’s the best, in this situation. She’s a fully friendship-trained teacher, and a changeling. Ocellus can watch over Chrysalis and monitor her progress - as well as any side effects that might pop up from this Restoration spell - better than anycreature.
“And…” Twilight reached one hoof across her table, and set it onto Pharynx’s shoulder. “Helping others is what she loves. She’s Chrysalis’ best hope for a better future. Can you trust in her?”
Pharynx stared at the hoof touching him. His eyes winced, and it was clear from the way he shivered that he didn’t want to be here any longer. There was something about that hoof that almost… frightened him.
He let out a frustrated snort, and looked away.
“I know she’s the best,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I know she… has to do this. I could have told you that already. I could tell you that in my sleep.”
Celeste frowned. “Then why…?”
“Because it’s…”
He gritted his teeth.
“... it’s my mother. And I know just how awful that will be for her.”
He let out his breath in a single long shuddering gasp. The prince shook his head, and seemed to settle down into his seat.
But, as Twilight prepared to speak again… his eyes came to life. The changeling prince sat up in his seat, and a look of… rage? Pride? Whatever thoughts were going through his mind, and his heart, there was something driving him onward.
He met the Princess’ gaze with a glare. A glare filled with a lifetime of hurt and regret.
And this time, she blinked first.
“Okay… you can have her for this. But on one condition…”
“You?”
“Me.”
“You…?”
Pharynx blinked.
“Um, yes. Me.”
Ocellus’s brow knitted together, and her lips pursed.
“... You?”
“I’m feeling attacked here…”
Ocellus snorted with laughter.
“I-I’m sorry!” she chuckled. “I just… I just didn’t think you’d try something like this! YOU are the new Captain of Ponyville’s Guard!?”
Pharynx’s head lowered, and an unamused frown covered his face.
“You don’t have to say it like that, you know?” he pouted.
“You realize you’ll be surrounded by other creatures, right?” Ocellus laughed again, but softer. Kinder. “You’ll be in charge of pony and dragon guards. And you’ll have to deal with ponies and yaks and hippogriffs who live here, right?”
“And changelings!” Pharynx protested, but without much force behind his words.
Ocellus smiled.
“And… you did it to protect me?”
A red hot blush formed on Pharynx’s cheeks. He turned around, and focused on the front door, beyond which still lay their prisoner.
“Maybe.”
Ocellus smiled, but it was a faint smile. She loved the way Pharynx could act so tough, sometimes. It really hid the warm, soft cuddlebug underneath. She wished, many a time, that she could have pulled that inner ‘ling out and showed him around.
He really was a softie, she thought. But… it was the tough bug I liked too.
It was both of them. Pharynx has a big heart. Maybe bigger than Thorax’s. He loved all the changelings. He’d do anything for them. Anything to protect them.
To protect her...
Her smile faded. It faded away, and vanished.
But Changelings First was also what he said. What he felt. He might love… others, but…
Ocellus slowly pushed herself away from Pharynx, who released his hug every bit as slowly as she did.
I can’t. Not with him. Not while he’s the way he is.
“I’ll have to move my schedule around,” she said, looking away from him, towards the kitchen. Her monthly calendar was practically dripping with ink from modifications already.
“I know,” Pharynx said with a nod. “I can help with that.”
Ocellus nodded as well. “You’ll need a room. Heck, she’ll need a room,” she said, her mind now virtually running through the free spaces on the second floor, and trying to visualize which one they could lose. “We have one spare, but…”
“That’s fine,” he said, tilting his head to one side. “Though, I think I’ll find a room somewhere nearby. Best you keep an eye on her, right?”
A laugh escaped Ocellus’ mouth, but she quickly clamped down on the rebel giggle. Her eyes snapped back to Pharynx’s.
I promised I wouldn’t think about it again.
“This isn’t what you think it is,” she said, and quite firmly. “I will help you, for the sake of our Hive, and so that Chrysalis will have a real chance at being better…
“But we are not together,” she finished. “Am I clear?”
Pharynx didn’t say anything at first.
“Pharynx,” she repeated, “are we clear?”
This is why I didn’t want to think about it.
We’re changelings.
I can taste the heartbreak on him even now. He wants to change…
But I don’t think he can.
Finally, Pharynx blinked.
“We’re clear,” he said, softly. “Understood.”
Chrysalis did not walk into Ocellus’ home so much as she trudged through the open door. And what she saw inside the disgustingly bright-yellow house appalled her more than any prison could have.
It was so… soft. Even the wood floor in the antechamber – the porch, they called it – seemed gentle. The front room of the house was more carpet than house! And everything was covered with pillows, or had pictures and photos covering them!
It made her sick. It was this sort of softness that made the other races weak.
Living in caves, on rocks and broken glass, now that was how one became strong!
The guard finally allowed her to take off the ridiculous, obnoxiously bright yellow safety vest she’d been forced to wear on the chariot ride down from Canterlot.
She briefly chided herself. At least, mentally.
I’m the most obnoxiously bright thing here now…
Chrysalis glared out at the world from her rather shortened vantage point. She barely reached anypony’s kneecaps at this height, and she’d been left in front of a mirror long enough to know this was no ordinary implementation of the Restoration Spell.
Her shell was… green. And not the beautiful, acidic green of her former magic. No! It was pistachio, with an arctic blue band around her barrel, and a sapphire blue carapace over her wings.
Wings she could hardly use, for how small they were. And that didn’t even touch upon her mane! Or her tail! Both were now some… horrid shade of orange!
I have become Jelly-bean, she thought glumly. Bringer of eye-strain.
Whatever additions Twilight and her disgusting friends had added to the spell, it had forced her to change. Forced her to become this… ‘reformed’ changeling.
Even my eyes are different. That one hurt the most, losing her irises. She’d noticed the trend, as the centuries had gone by, as generation after generation came and went. It never really affected her, of course. It had marked her as something special. The last changeling to retain full eyes.
And why do I have these ridiculous gems on my chest now!?
While Chrysalis stewed on the magical changes wrought upon her, her guard began the official hoof-off. He set the vest and its leash on a hook by the door, and quickly hoofed over a set of large silver hoof-rings to her jailers.
“The rings should anchor her, magically, to your presences,” the guard, a changeling himself, intoned in the voice of anyone who’d explained the same set of instructions ten-thousand times would. “Keep the rings on at all times, and you’ll know which direction she is in, and will lead you to your parolee in the event of escape…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Pharynx said, quickly, “I already heard this with Celeste, so you can just stop. Set up the perimeter, and get shifts going. I’ll be out in a bit.”
The changeling saluted Pharynx, and immediately backed out of the house.
Thus, alone with her jailers, Chrysalis knew the mind games would begin.
It’s what I would do…
Ocellus took a deep, deep breath, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, a brilliant smile came over her features, and she spun about to face the tiny changeling nymph standing in front of her.
“Welcome to our home!” she said with cheer. “I hope that you will come to think of it as your home as well.”
“Not enough spikes,” Chrysalis groaned, and nearly choked as she heard her new, tiny baby voice again. “Also, the walls aren’t shapeshifting.”
Ocellus’ eye twitched.
“Well, be that as it may,” she spoke quickly, recovering a bit of her presented façade of happiness, “this will be your home for a little while. And… I’d like to make you as comfortable here as I can. Your room will be upstairs…”
“My chamber will be wherever I deign it, peasant!” Chrysalis snarled… though with her new voice it came out far less threatening than she’d meant it to.
The older changeling drew her smile back a bit, her lips thinning ever so slightly.
“In this house, we have some rules,” Ocellus said through gritted teeth. “Everycreature does their part, and everycreature makes the others feel welcome. We’ve already got a room for you, and I’ll be happy to show it to you once you’ve seen the rest of the house.”
“Pah!” Chrysalis spat. “Very well. Give us the royal welcome we deserve! A feast! A banquet to welcome your new Queen!”
Ocellus stared at the former queen. A tiny smirk started forming on her lips, but she banished it immediately.
“Okay, you’re incredibly cute for a former dictator,” she admitted with a shrug, “but rudeness will not be allowed here. This is a safe space.”
“Safe space!?” Chrysalis roared like a tame housecat. “This is an outrage! Have you no shame as a changeling!? Or have your brains turned into jelly-candy!?”
While Ocellus’ eye-twitch returned, Pharynx stepped forward. As his shadow passed over her, Chrysalis briefly felt a swell of something in her chest. A sort of tight, vice-like grip around her heart.
I am not afraid of Pharynx, she lied to herself. Just because he’s bigger than me now, and angry… and vengeful… and he blames me for… stuff that wasn’t my fault…
The feeling wasn’t going away. Especially since when he spoke, it was with a timbre and a menace she couldn’t have ever imagined him using against her before.
“I’ve also got some rules,” he growled. The sound was enough to briefly arrest Chrysalis’ attention.
“One!” he began. “If you’re rude to anycreature living in this house, or anycreature not living here, you’re getting put in time-out. Two! You will go when and where you are told to go, and nowhere else. If you try to run away, I will find you. I will catch you. And I will put you in time-out. Three…!”
“Uh, Pharynx?” Ocellus quickly butted in, her magical aura tugging on his ear, and pulling the fearsome changeling towards her like a misbehaving foal himself. “Let’s not traumatize her on day one. You know her emotional control will be like a regular foal now.”
He glared at her a moment, before returning his attention to Chrysalis. The tiny tot was… just sitting there, staring up at him with wide, watery green eyes.
I am not… s-scared of Pharynx, she lied again.
Pharynx’s glare faded, slightly.
“And, anyway,” Ocellus continued, “what’s this about time out? Where would you put her?”
“I dunno,” he said lamely, and shrugged. “There’s a tree outside. Figured I’d stick her in a cocoon and tie her to one of the branches…”
“Bad Pharynx!” Ocellus snapped, and gave his ear another hard tug. “We do not put babies in trees!”
“I-I am not a baby!” Chrysalis squeaked, regaining a modicum of her former composure. “I am your Queen…!”
Ocellus turned her frown back to Chrysalis.
“You,” she said in an icy tone that had the former Queen wishing she could still transform into something small and hard to notice, “are a guest in this house, and I will expect you to behave in such a manner!
“Pharynx here…” Ocellus said, indicating the changeling to her side. “... put a lot of effort into getting you this chance - your last chance - to avoid the punishment you probably deserved. Your own son, I might add. Someling you treated like garbage, to the point that he’s a total emotional disaster, even by changeling standards!”
Pharynx grunted against the strain on his ear. “H-hey…!”
“Oh, shush!” Ocellus snapped. “You know it’s true!”
The tone in Ocellus’ voice slowly heated up as she spoke, the harsher timbre enough to blunt Chrysalis’ own protests.
“I-if he were really m-my son, he would have helped me regain my proper place! My throne! Not… not turned me into this...”
Ocellus’ face darkened, and the former Queen of the Changeling Empire suddenly felt like she was a very small, very helpless bug in the direct path of a storm. A jelly bean storm, but a storm nonetheless.
But when Ocellus spoke, it wasn’t with icy venom. And it wasn't a raging inferno.
Her voice dropped down, low and quiet as a whisper.
“You are not a queen,” she hissed. “You are a disappointment. A monster. You destroyed and perverted the changeling people for so long… I don’t think we’ll ever recover from what you did to us.”
“I…” Chrysalis swallowed, her brow feeling every word like a weight being loaded on top of her. “I made us strong…”
Ocellus shook her head, slowly. “All you did was starve us. And we know it, too. You really think anyling would ever follow you again? What could you possibly offer us? You want us to toss away everything that’s made us happy and fulfilled. And for what? Your… crown? Your pride?”
She closed her eyes, and breathed slowly through her nose. Ocellus’ knees were shaking. Her wings quivered in their shell.
But her voice was steady, and clear as ringing glass.
“But that doesn’t matter here. Not to me.”
Her eyes opened again, and Ocellus turned a steeled gaze down at her… guest.
“I promise you, Chrysalis,” she said, slowly, pronouncing every word as clearly as possible, “I will do everything to help you. You are in my care, and I swear by the All Mother and the First Queen… you will have every opportunity, every possible chance to change.
“I will love you… like you are my own.”
Chrysalis couldn’t look away. Not from those eyes. There was something hypnotic about them.
Or was it the words of the one whose eyes they were?
“But that goes both ways,” Ocellus continued. “You are my guest. I am your caregiver. You will mind me while you’re living here, and I will do everything in my power to help you. But you will follow my rules while you’re here.
“Am I making myself understood?”
Chrysalis’ mouth made a few shapes, but the words wouldn’t come to her.
So, instead, she lowered her head, and whispered, “Yes’m.”
Ocellus nodded, slowly. Her smile – a genuine one, as opposed to strained – returned to her, and she pointed one hoof towards the kitchen.
“Now, march in there and wait for me. I will make you a peanut butter sandwich for lunch. Is that alright?”
The former Queen looked back up at her caregiver… who was still yanking on her parole officer’s ears, and nodded slowly.
“Um… can I have bananas on it too?”
“You may,” Ocellus said happily. “Thank you for asking.”
Despite the pain in his ears, Pharynx couldn’t help but stare, mouth totally agape at the scene playing out in front of him. He watched, in utter silence, as Chrysalis shuffled into the kitchen without raising a further fuss.
“Huh…” he said. He looked down at the floor, and frowned.
“Yes, Pharynx,” Ocellus said, releasing his ears and allowing the prince to pull himself up straight, “I still need you for this.”
She released a breath, and sagged a little bit.
“I don’t think I can keep that up,” she said, scratching the back of her neck. “Not for too long a stretch, anyway. Not if I also have to feed her Love as we go…”
“Oh, right,” Pharynx said, facehoofing. He’d almost forgotten that growing nymphs needed food and a lot more raw Love than regular changelings.
Not really his fault, considering it was never his job.
“I guess we’ll have to work on a feeding schedule then. And she’s still a Royal, so that’s probably…”
They stood in the entryway, silent again. The enormity of what they were doing hadn’t quite settled in yet, but it was getting there.
“But, hey!” Pharynx said with his own forced-cheer. “You laid down the law! Good job, Lus! You were beautiful there… I mean, you did beautifully…!”
Ocellus’ face didn’t change from the casual worry she’d been wearing since Chrysalis left the room. “Pharynx? Please, don’t…”
“Sorry, I didn’t…”
“Yes,” she said, cutting him off. “You did.”
She sighed again, and looked at him. Their eyes met, and neither could deny the feeling there.
Changelings could taste emotions, after all.
But that was so dangerous…
“Can you go to the store then?” Ocellus asked. “I meant to get tea, since Smolder forgot. And we’ll probably need a few things for our new guest.”
“Caffeine?” he asked, a broken smirk brushing his lips.
Normally, the very suggestion would have gotten a scowl out of Ocellus.
And it still did, just not one as scowly as she could have done.
Before she could respond, both changelings’ ears perked up. There was a sound. A lot of sounds. Ocellus and Pharynx slowly turned their eyes down, and towards the kitchen.
A tiny green nymph tore out of the kitchen, wings buzzing madly. She could only get about a foot or two off the ground, but it was enough to let her clutch what appeared to be an entire cookie jar in between her hooves.
“FREEDOMISMINE!!!”
Chrysalis reached the door – after having had to half-stumble and go the long way around the two grown changelings in her way – and immediately found the problem of the door latch.
She set down the jar, and gave a great, furious buzz of her wings.
She got about halfway to the door handle, and slid back down. But slowly. The second time was about the same.
So was the third.
By the sixth time, Ocellus had finally gotten her giggles under control, and Chrysalis herself needed a five second break between attempts. This made escape from Pharynx’s magic aura quite impossible.
Time-out, it was then decided, would be in the kitchen. And it would include the talking of ground rules. And the talking of chores. And of friends. And of many, many other things, this very first day that Ocellus and Pharynx found themselves working together again.
And it would include peanut butter sandwiches.
No bananas, however. Bananas were for good ‘lings who brushed their teeth before bed, and did not try to steal cookies.