“Chrysalis? Wake up, we’ve got work to do.”
Twilight threw the changeling’s door wide open. Her steps echoed in the silent bedroom. The sound instilled a profound sense of solitude in the pony, despite the knowledge she couldn’t possibly be alone. Her spell continued, pulling open the curtains, spilling dull blue daylight into the dark. A thin layer of frosty dew smudged the view of the gardens outside.
“Hurry up, Chrysalis. I have plans for today. You’re going to help.”
Chrysalis groaned, constricting her body tighter to hide from the morning. She had curled up against the ceiling where it met the wall and fireplace. In her current state, she almost resembled a cicada. An angry, overgrown cicada.
“I think I tried to kill the wrong princess,” Chrysalis grumbled as she unraveled.
Unimpressed, Twilight stepped out for a moment, requisitioning a spear from one of the ponies outside. Holding it tight in her purple glow, she raised the blunt end into the air, jabbing it into Chrysalis’ back. A surprised yelp sent the changeling crashing down like a sack of bricks. Her chains rattled as she rolled onto her stomach.
“Ow,” she muttered, staring up at Twilight.
Twilight shrugged. “I told you to hurry.”
Chrysalis stood with some difficulty. “You’re eager for more of my help already? Great. Let’s see how far I can set you back this time. I’m trying to keep a record.” Her voice dripped with sarcastic excitement.
Twilight started for the door, twirling the weapon alongside her.
Chrysalis ran a hoof through her mane, pulling a few knots loose and settling it into place before following. She stepped out into the hall in time to see Twilight return her borrowed tool to a concerned stallion.
“You can’t really mess up what I’ve got planned today. It’s perfect for you.”
“And just what stupid thing is that?” Chrysalis asked, trying her best to form a mental map of the route she’d been dragged through. Two hallways, a downward flight of stairs and a few dozen confused double-takes from passing ponies later, Twilight led Chrysalis out into the royal court. Unless the changeling had been lax with her mental mapping, she felt confident that Twilight wasn’t leading her to the study.
“We’re going out into the gardens. You’re going to help me pick flowers.”
“And will the whiny one be joining us again today? What was her name?” Chrysalis pursed her lips.
“Fluttershy,” Twilight said flatly.
“Right. Fluttershy. Tell me, did I scare her off?” Chrysalis asked in a mocking tone.
“No. She’s eating breakfast with Luna. I plan to meet up with them later. Just as soon as we’re done with our work.”
The lunar and solar thrones shimmered under the skylight. Chrysalis tried to imagine the princesses atop them, regal and beloved. They must have looked quite impressive to their subjects below. She couldn’t help but wonder how she would look in their place.
“She’s not that scared of you anymore, you know?”
“What?”
“Fluttershy. I talked with her last night.”
Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “So she says. I’ll have to judge that for myself.”
The stained-glass windows looked far more vibrant this time through. Chrysalis didn’t shrink away, studying each one in detail. Even though she stood only a few feet away, Twilight felt more like a storybook hero than a real pony. And she supposed that made her the villain.
“Keep up,” Twilight insisted.
“How about you slow down? I can’t walk that fast anymore.”
“I thought you were healing,” Twilight said, slowing to match Chrysalis’ pace.
“What do you expect? These chains are heavy.”
Twilight wrinkled her muzzle. “Well, if you hadn’t acted out like that last night, I wouldn’t make you wear them. You’re just making this harder on yourself, really.”
“I assure you it was quite worth the effort,” Chrysalis huffed.
The morning breeze carried a hint of winter’s frost. From over the courtyard walls, Chrysalis could hear sounds of the city. Ponies called out to one another and exchanged daily pleasantries. Outside the golden gates, carriages clacked against the cobblestone streets. She could taste the scent of freshly baked goods in the air.
“This way.” Twilight motioned to the high arch at the edge of the courtyard.
Any pony worth their salt knew of the Canterlot Royal Gardens, which meant the changelings did too. The gardens were open to all: students visiting on field trips, tourists on vacation, local ponies who just wanted a peaceful day in nature. Today, though, the gardens were empty. Even the gardeners made sure to keep out of sight. Except, of course, for the guards.
Twilight stepped aside, allowing Chrysalis to take the first step into the floral wonderland. Tall hedges formed in the inner walls of the gardens, white flowers poking through the greenery in uneven patches. The high stone walls were hidden from view beneath a sheet of tangled ivy. The main path wound for miles around the sides and back of the castle, flanked on each side by a stretch of blossoms painted every color Chrysalis had a name for and more.
“What do you think?” Twilight asked.
“About what?”
“The Canterlot Royal Gardens,” Twilight said proudly, reaching out to the world around her with a filly-like smile on her lips.
“You were serious about flower picking, weren’t you?” Chrysalis realized with a groan.
“Yes. Come on. We have to get around the back of the castle.”
Their journey took the two of them along the full length of the gardens. Twilight’s constant stops to admire the scenic displays only delayed them further, grating on Chrysalis’ nerves.
Twilight stopped to smell one of the flowers. “You know, when I first started studying here under Celestia, I tried to catalog all the different species of flowers that grew here,” She said, sketching a mental picture of the radial symmetry in play with the shimmering sea of foam-colored flowers before her.
“I don’t care,” Chrysalis griped.
Twilight chuckled. “I made it about halfway before I lost the list. Spike wasn’t all that great at organizing back then.”
“Are you even listening to me?” Chrysalis asked.
Apparently, the princess hadn’t learned her lesson last night. Unfortunately, Chrysalis’ chains made throwing an impossible task.
Twilight took a few more steps. “Ahh! Here we are.”
Twilight gestured toward the massive field of flowers before them. The guards stepped forward and removed the chains from a confused Chrysalis. Before she could make sense of that, Twilight reappeared, offering a basket.
“Oh. I get it now. This is how you ponies torture, isn’t it? I must say, it’s more effective than I ever thought it could be,” she said as she knocked the basket away.
“This isn’t torture. It’s a nice day and I wanted to get some fresh air. Now pay attention. We’re going to be pulling weeds today. These ones, specifically.” Twilight’s magic reached into the flower patch and pulled a thin green root from the dirt. She wiped the dirt off and tossed it into the basket. “Got it?”
Chrysalis racked her mind, searching for the right words to express her complete disgust. For the first time in her life, her words failed her. She could only stare down the alicorn, her face twisted in annoyance.
“Or don’t help.” Twilight shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me, really. You’re not going back inside until I finish.”
“What’s the game here, Twilight?” Chrysalis demanded, stomping her hoof.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Twilight got down to her knees and started to pull more weeds. “There’s no game being played here. At least, not by me.”
“So you only brought me out here to pull weeds. Seriously?”
“Yes. So are you going to help?”
“Of course not.”
Twilight returned to her work, pulling weeds and inspecting them. Chrysalis stormed away, but the guards kept her going too far. Of the dozen soldiers that accompanied them, half were unicorns, half were pegasi. Chrysalis weighed her odds of escaping from such a group. She might be able to outmaneuver the pegasi, but the unicorns would be a problem. Their spears looked rather sharp.
And then, of course, she had to consider Twilight. She wouldn’t sit idly by and watch.
No. This wasn’t her chance. She would have to wait a little longer. The changeling collapsed in the grass, laying her head back against the dirt floor. The warm sun on her shell felt nice against the cool breeze. Even the smell of the flowers put her at ease, though she would never admit it.
“You know, a punishment isn’t going to work if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be scared of? A field of flowers doesn’t really instill fear.”
Twilight paused her hummed tune. “I told you, this isn’t a punishment. It’s just something that needs to be done.”
“Right.” Chrysalis nodded. “I’m still not helping.”
“Okay.”
Even as she lounged, Chrysalis refused to take her gaze off Twilight. As the morning hours crept by, the guards relaxed and the basket gradually filled. For each new root she pulled, Twilight had to move deeper into the field.
“Alright. That should be enough,” Twilight announced, brushing the dirt from her hooves.
“It’s about time,” Chrysalis crooned.
Her bones popped as she rose from her flattened area of grass. Her and Twilight met in the middle, on the stone path that wound through the garden. The soldiers readied to move out. As Twilight turned to leave, Chrysalis snuck a peek into the basket. It had been filled halfway with stringy green roots.
“That’s quite a bit of greenery you’ve got there, Twilight.”
The alicorn stopped and slowly turned. “Yes. About a pound, if my estimates are right.”
“What are they?”
Twilight pulled the basket close to her chest. “Why do you care?”
“I wasted a few hours of my life out here for them. The least you can do is tell me why.”
“They’re for my experiments. They’re a weed native to this area. According to legends, it’s used to counteract magic.” Twilight tilted her head as she put on her lecturing voice. “Of course, there’s not actual scientific data to back up that assumption, but it’s worth at least testing it--”
Twilight fumbled her words as Chrysalis swatted the basket out of her grasp. It bounced on the stone, spilling its contents across the sidewalk.
“Seriously?” Twilight asked, flatly. “That was petty and pathetic, even by your standards.”
“Serves you right for wasting my time.”
“What’s your deal, Chrysalis?” What sounded like genuine curiosity infected Twilight’s voice. She swept the fallen vegetation in her magic and gathered it back into the basket in seconds before handing it off to one of the guards.
Chrysalis frowned at the display.
“My deal is that I’m tired of you wasting my time.” She whipped her mane dramatically.
“No, I want a serious answer. Why did you knock the basket out of my hoof? Why did you throw a book at me last night? Why are you behaving like such a . . . petulant foal?”
“To spite you,” Chrysalis said.
Twilight considered her argument.
“So, let me get this straight. You did that only to make me suffer a few extra seconds of cleaning. That’s it?”
“Do you have a problem with that?” Chrysalis mused.
“Yes. I do. I want to know why you’re so intent on trying to make my life worse when I’m trying to help you. You do understand that, right? I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“Then what do you want?”
“To return to my room and sleep,” Chrysalis growled. She tried to walk away, but the guards refused to step aside.
“Is that really all there is to you? Just spite? No matter how small of an annoyance it is, you just have to use it to try and make my life worse?”
“Exactly.”
“Then I guess I was wrong about you.” Twilight handed off her basket to one of her chaperones. “Last night, after your little tantrum, I saw something in that book you threw at me. A passage about Changelings as these horrible creatures. It gave me this crazy idea. Maybe I’ve been treating you wrong all this time.”
Twilight started to pace. “I’ve been treating you like the monster everypony thinks you are. That you think you are.” She shook her head. “I even thought that maybe I was being unfair to you. Maybe you weren’t this big bad monster. Maybe you just needed somepony to empathize with you. I wanted to be on your side.”
Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you on my side. I don’t want you on my side. Did you ever consider that?”
“I am now.” Twilight nodded. “So, you know what, fine. You win.”
Chrysalis choked. “I what?”
“You win. I’m done playing your game.”
“And what game is that, exactly?”
Twilight motioned to the space between them.
“This one. You want to make me miserable? Guess what? I’m miserable. I’m here trying to save a mare that’s like a second mother to me. And instead of focusing on that, I have to deal with you throwing a fit like a foal. I’m done.” She sounded oddly calm.
“What then? You’re going to send me to be tortured by Luna? You disappoint me, Twilight. I thought it would be much harder to break you than that.”
“No. I’m not letting Luna near you.”
“Then tell me, little pony, just what will you do to me?”
“Nothing. I have other things to focus on. Let me be clear with you, Chrysalis. I wanted to help you. I really did. Celestia saw something in you. Something that convinced her to save your life, possibly at the cost of her own. I thought that if I tried to be nice to you, that maybe you would open up a bit to me. Maybe I would be able to see in you whatever she saw.” Twilight shook her head. “But it’s becoming clear that won’t work. So, I’m done trying.”
Chrysalis’ amusement climbed up her throat as a hearty cackle.
“Is that why you brought me out here? Because you thought it would get me to open up to you? It seems you don’t understand, Twilight. I hate you.” Chrysalis inched forwards. The guards moved to intervene, but Twilight didn’t flinch. “I hate every word that comes out of your mouth. I hate your holier-than-thou attitude that you seem to always have. And above all I hate your kind and everything they’ve done to my Changelings. I won’t rest until every pony you hold dear is little more than a husk under my command.”
“Why?”
Chrysalis stamped her hoof hard enough to crack the stone. “Stop asking that!”
“Why do you hate us so much? What did we ever do to you that you want to hurt us?”
Chrysalis lunged forward, snapping her jaws within an inch of Twilight’s face. The guards rushed to her defense, but Twilight stopped them. A subtle wave of her hoof told them to step back.
“You took everything from me, Twilight!” Chrysalis swung her head back and forth, growing more guttural with each bark. “My throne! My kingdom! My children! Why shouldn’t I take everything from you in return? It’s only fair, after all.”
“You’re wrong.” Twilight shook her head. “We didn’t take anything from you. You threw it away. Look at Thorax. Even now, he tries to protect you. But you just push him away. You pushed them all away. And now, you’re taking that anger out on the ones you think responsible because you can’t stand to face the fact that you’re going to die alone and unloved and won’t have anyone to blame but yourself.”
Chrysalis’ bravado faltered.
“How dare you speak to me like that,” she snarled.
“I will do anything in my power to make sure that Celestia lives. If I fail, I know that she’ll die. And every pony in this country and beyond will mourn her. But no one will care that you’re gone. No one will even remember you. That’s the life you’ve chosen, Chrysalis. And I pity you for it.”
Hundreds of different comebacks littered Chrysalis’ mind. But none of them could stop the sting she felt in her chest with every echo of Twilight’s voice.
Twilight put her hoof down, gesturing for her guards to continue their work.
“Put her back in chains and take her up to her room. I’ve got to go meet my friends for breakfast.” She strode off, leaving the stunned changeling alone with her thoughts.
“So, how did everything go, Twilight?” Luna asked. She and Fluttershy were already sitting at the dining table. Their mostly polished dishes had been set aside, waiting for the servants to take them.
A vibrant purple aura enveloped the door and slammed it shut. Twilight refused to meet either of their gazes. Instead, she slipped silently into an open seat and rested her head against the placemat.
“That well?” Luna lamented.
Fluttershy put a comforting hoof on Twilight, but didn’t say anything.
“Fluttershy?” Luna started.
“Yes, Princess?”
Luna practiced her best Celestia impression with a deep breath
“Would you mind bringing a message to the kitchen staff? I want them to prepare your choice of desert for tonight’s meal, to celebrate the last night of your visit. Tell them you have the authority of the Princess.” Luna winked.
“O-Okay.” Fluttershy looked back and forth between Twilight and Luna, biting her lip. Eventually, she climbed down reluctantly from her seat. “I’ll get right on that, Princess.” She glided off into the kitchen.
Luna waited for the door to close completely before returning her attention to Twilight.
“What happened?” she asked.
Twilight slammed her forelegs into the table. Luna lurched back, startled by the sudden violence. A disembodied dark claw plucked her wineglass from the table before the vintage could spill. A fork rattled onto the stone somewhere below.
“It failed. Spectacularly. I’ve given up on relying on her for help.”
Luna frowned. She tried her best to keep her voice professional, but couldn’t stop the worry that bled into her voice. “You did your best, Twilight. No one could ask more of you.”
A tear welled in the younger alicorn’s eye.
“I thought I could help her. But I couldn’t. I failed. And because of that, Celestia is going to . . . to die.”
Twilight remained still as a dark wing slid over her, warming her.
“Listen to me, Twilight,” Luna whispered, pulling Twilight close. “I know things seem grim right now, but you must not give up. I promise you that we will do everything in our power to save Celestia.”
“I know.” Twilight tried to smile, but it came off feeling hollow. Luna’s words didn’t really settle her troubled thoughts. But she was trying to help. That was more than most were doing at this point.
The umbral princess’ wings wiped a tear from Twilight’s eye.
“And don’t worry about Chrysalis. We’ll get the answers out of her, one way or another.”
“I . . . I don’t know . . . Do you really think there’s no other way?”
“I do.” Luna returned her drink to her mystical grip, freeing her hooves to wrap them around Twilight. “But I will not ask you to make that choice right now. For now, you just focus on taking care of Celestia.”
“What about Chrysalis?” Twilight asked.
“I will handle her.” Luna noticed Twilight’s glare. “Calm yourself. I won’t have her hauled off to the dungeon. But you need not worry about her. Go spend some time with your friend before she leaves.”
“Thank you, Luna.”
Twilight winced as the alicorn gave her one final squeeze and then released her. She followed off in the same direction as Fluttershy, disappearing into the kitchen.
Luna sipped her wine from the glass.
“Crow. Come down here. I require aid.”
A thestral appeared from the darkness, dressed head to hoof in black armor. Obsidian fur lined his bat-like wings and protruded from gaps in his armor. He bowed his head to the floor. Luna hadn’t heard him approach, but she knew better than to rely on her senses where her elites were concerned.
“I need you to deliver a message for me.”
Thorax smiled at the older guard, wary of the cautious gleam in his eye. “I was told I was expected.” He laughed nervously, trying his best to ignore the second soldier searching his person.
“He’s clean,” the examiner said. “Go ahead.” He nodded toward the door.
“Thank you.” Thorax bowed hastily. The stallion blocking his path moved aside, never breaking visual contact. The wooden door shook with a short series of sharp knocks.
No answer.
Thorax watched his companions from the sides of his eyes.
“She is in there, right?”
The stallion flared his nostrils. He reached past the king, and pushed the door open.
“Oh. Thank you, again.” Thorax smiled at the two. They didn’t return it.
He slipped inside, eager to forget the encounter. Even during the day, Chrysalis’ room stayed dark. Extra bed sheets had been draped over the windows to block out whatever the real curtains couldn’t catch. Part of him missed the old green glow of his childhood hives. The only source of light came from the bathroom, where a lone bulb battled valiantly against the encroaching shadows.
“Chrysalis?” Thorax asked, poking his head into the bathroom. The object of his search stood at the sink, hooves tense against the marble rim. Deeper into the room, steam rose from the filled bathtub. The mirror above the sink had been shattered, revealing a wooden wall.
“Thorax?” Chrysalis tensed, but her body stayed rooted in place. With the mirror gone, he couldn’t see her face. Thorax stepped past her, settling comfortably leaning against the back wall.
“Help me take this thing off, would you?” She turned her leg until he could see the buckles on her brace.
“Are you supposed to take it off?” he folded his arms.
“Probably not. I’m beginning to think it might be a strange torture device. Please?”
A silence settled between them.
With a sigh, Thorax dragged himself back onto his hooves and reached for his mother’s leg. She shifted her weight onto her good leg, leaving her other free to lift less than an inch off the ground. He pressed lightly on either side, keeping the limb steady as he ignited the pale green horn between his antlers.
His magic, in the form of green fire, threaded the first leather belt back through the buckle. Chrysalis groaned in relief as the pressure finally released. The second and third buckles didn’t take any longer than the first. With the device removed, Thorax set it aside. Her leg had recovered steadily. The glassy plates hadn’t grown enough to darken, leaving the leg a fleshy pink. In this state, any decent force would still crack right through her shell.
“Thank you,” Chrysalis said. She couldn’t catch her breath.
When he straightened up, Thorax could see the interior of the sink. Innumerable shards of glass had piled over the drain. Just as many different versions of the changeling queen watched Chrysalis, each one wearing a mask crueler than the last.
“Do you need help getting in?” Thorax asked.
“No, I can handle that part.” Chrysalis released the sink. One by one, she let her limbs press into the tile. Her first three brought no issue. She sucked a breath through her teeth as the fourth finally received its weight. Thorax stepped away, leaning back against the door.
“It looks better.”
“I’m sure it does.” Chrysalis sounded exhausted.
Thorax watched her ease into the water, sliding down until her body reached both ends of the basin. Watching the stress melt away from her face made him smile, though he endeavored not to let her notice.
Chrysalis let her eyelids fall, leaning her head back against a neatly folded towel.
“Are you here about what happened in the Gardens today?”
“Twilight told me that something happened. She wanted you to give me the particulars, though? If you want to talk, that is.”
“Of course she did.”
“Tell me what happened?” Thorax pleaded.
“She took me out with a complement of guards to pick flowers. Flowers! I swear she was trying to kill me.”
“Twilight wouldn’t have sent me up because you were annoyed. Did something happen between you? Did . . .” He swallowed. “Did she finally make up her mind about what to do with you?”
Chrysalis splashed her hoof lazily in the tub.
“No. She . . . told me that I won.”
Thorax relaxed. “You . . . won?”
“I officially made her life miserable enough for her to leave me alone, apparently.”
“Sounds like you. Is that it?”
Chrysalis drew a line in the water with her hoof and watched the ripples spread. “She . . . said some other things, too . . .”
Thorax knit his brow. “Like what?”
Chrysalis’ gaze drifted away. “Thorax, tell me something. What will you do if I die before you?”
Thorax blinked a few times, replaying the words in his head until he was sure he heard them right.
“Do you plan on dying soon?”
“No one plans on dying. But it happens. That isn’t important. What would you do if I died? Would you cheer? Cry? Would you even know?”
“That’s a stupid question. Of course I’d be upset. Why do you--”
“And what about your brothers and sisters? Would they miss me?”
“I-I’m sure they would.”
His stumbling made the reality clear to Chrysalis. “She was right, wasn’t she? I’m going to die alone.”
Thorax shot up. “Twilight said that?”
“She was right.”
“No she isn’t. Don’t think like that.”
“Quiet, Grub,” Chrysalis ordered. “I’m sick of listening to your lies.”
“It’s not a lie,” Thorax cried desperately. “If I didn’t care about you, why would I ask Celestia to save you? Why would I be here helping?”
Chrysalis straightened slightly. “You sent her to that hive?”
The chitin on Thorax’s face paled. He scratched the back of his neck. “I . . . I-I may or may not have said something about it.”
“Of course that was your handiwork.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “You never cease to make things hard on me, do you?”
Thorax chuckled. “What can I say? I like to keep your life interesting.”
The two of them finally fell silent. Years’ worth of dialogue had created distance between them. The questions haunting Thorax weighed on his tongue. Questions of her life, of where she’d been, of what had injured her, but he couldn’t find the resolve to break the sacred silence that had settled.
Not a single soul could predict what challenges awaited them past dawn’s horizon. Here, in Chrysalis’ company, they didn’t matter.
Tonight, neither changeling wore their crown.