“So, this is my new room, huh?” Chrysalis glanced around at her new surroundings. Despite the relatively small circumference of the cylindrical room, it made up for it in height. A series of half-a-dozen long windows stretched down the walls, revealing the snowstorm outside.
“It is,” Twilight said, closing the door behind them.
“Seems a bit of a fixer-upper.” Chrysalis ran a hoof across a nearby table, wiping a layer of dust from the wooden surface. Several large crates were piled around, their markings largely worn away by time.
“It is,” Twilight repeated, stifling a cough.
“Be honest with me, Twilight. Is Luna just putting me here just so I’m out of the way?”
“What makes you say that?” Technically, Twilight realized, she wasn’t wrong, it just wasn’t for the reason Chrysalis was thinking.
“You spoke of wounded changelings, right?” Chrysalis climbed up onto one of the boxes in the middle of the room and laid her head down on her hooves. “I can only imagine what a hassle that’s causing for her. I can’t blame her.”
“It’s not that,” Twilight argued. She hopped up onto the crate beside Chrysalis, the wind from her wings kicking up a dust storm in the process. “In fact, you’re not the only one trapped here. Luna’s asked me to stay in the upper levels of the palace as well.”
Chrysalis rolled over toward Twilight, stopping on her back. Her hooves splayed out to either side. “At least we can be prisoners together. That should be fun.”
“We’re not prisoners.” Twilight ducked under Chrysalis’ outstretched leg and curled up beside her. “She’s trying to keep us safe. Apparently, someone in the castle leaked that you were here. The public . . . didn’t take it well.”
“Death threats? How quaint.” She smiled, teasing a few strands of Twilight’s mane. “Do you two think that’s something new to me? I’ve been getting death threats since the day I hatched. And I certainly don’t need Equestria’s lesser sister to protect me.”
“You shouldn’t talk about Luna like that.” Twilight closed her eyes, mesmerized by the treatment of her mane. “She wants to help you. She could have just thrown you to those ponies. But instead, she gave you this tower to yourself.”
“This tower that doesn’t even have a bed in it?” Chrysalis raised an eyebrow.
“The bed’s upstairs. Besides, this tower’s been abandoned long before Luna’s return.”
Chrysalis started. “There’s an upstairs?”
“Yeah.”
The confused changeling scanned the ceiling. Sure enough, as Twilight had promised, there was a hole in the ceiling. A carved hole, fit for the eventual installation of a wide, winding staircase. “There is a second floor,” Chrysalis said, surprised.
“Told you,” Twilight sang.
“Why don’t we go see the rest of my private chambers?” Chrysalis asked, slinking down off the box. “Hopefully it has a little less dust.”
“I doubt it,” Twilight followed Chrysalis’ example and climbed down.
As the changeling studied the gap in the ceiling, she also noticed the scaffolding leading up to. Even the most athletic pony wouldn’t have been able to climb it without a ladder or wings. And in her current condition, Chrysalis was far from athletic.
“Are your wings still hurt?” Twilight asked.
“My new wings have grown in.” Two small, veiny wings fluttered through gaps in her chitin. They dripped with some sort of transparent green ooze. “Unfortunately, they’ve yet to mature. Trying to use them now might just damage them again. But, I think I have a better idea.” Chrysalis stood only inches from the wall.
She lifted her hoof and pressed it against the stone wall. Next, she took her other front hoof and did likewise. Then her third. Twilight watched Chrysalis walk up the wall just as easily as she would have down a hallway. A wave of unsettled fascination washed through her head while she watched the display.
“Are you going to join me or are you just going to stand there the rest of the day?” Chrysalis’ voice drew Twilight back into the moment. With a few flaps of her wings, she hovered beside Chrysalis, following her into the room above. The room was almost identical to the one below it. Instead of crates and barrels, though, there were actual furnishings. A canopied bed fit for two sat against the far wall with stubby dressers on either side serving as bedside tables. Also included were an empty armoire, a vanity with a mirror too dirty to see into, a brick fireplace, and a door that seemed to lead into a bathroom. All of the furniture was in need of a thorough dusting.
“Well, it’s a little better than the first floor, I guess,” Chrysalis said, stepping down off the wall onto the hardwood floor. “Still could use a serious cleaning. Did someone used to live in this tower?”
Twilight landed beside the changeling, her wings folding back down to her sides. “If I remember correctly, this tower used to belong to . . .” Twilight disguised the end of her sentence beneath a stuttering cough.
“Who?” Chrysalis tossed her a sideways glare.
Though she bit her lip, Twilight cracked under the pressure. “It was Cadance’s tower. From back when she used to live here.”
Chrysalis scoffed. “Of course it is. That would explain the stench.”
“Don’t be like that, Chrysalis,” Twilight groaned. “It was built for her, but she rarely – if ever – used it. She usually slept in one of the guest rooms. Personally, I don’t think she liked the solitude.”
“Really? Well, I suppose if she hated it, I might as well enjoy it.”
“That’s a . . . good way of looking at it?” Twilight said.
Chrysalis strolled over to the bed and ripped off the bedcover, engulfing the two mares in a cloud of dust. Twilight stumbled backwards in a coughing fit. She held her breath in an attempt to regain her composure, only to fail spectacularly due to a violent sneeze.
“Are you going to be alright?” Chrysalis asked, concerned.
“Y-Yeah . . . just . . . give me a second,” Twilight wheezed. “I’ve got a bit of dust in my . . . well, in my everything.” She buried her head in her hooves, battling furiously against her allergies. Meanwhile, Chrysalis stretched out over the bed, laughing at the scene playing out in front of her.
“I’m glad–” She sneezed again. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”
“It’s kind of adorable,” Chrysalis admitted, hiding her grin with a hoof.
Twilight eventually recovered enough to stagger toward the bed, collapsing beside Chrysalis. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” she said, plunging face-first into the pillow. Despite the condition of the room, the bedding still carried a hint of a floral scent. The bedframe rocked as Chrysalis adjusted to her side of the bed.
In their isolation, the outside world no longer existed. Even straining, the only sound Twilight could pick up on was Chrysalis’ breathing, along with the occasional rustle of the wind outside. “Chryssy, are you asleep?” she asked.
“No.”
Twilight rolled over until she was facing her partner. “What are we going to do?”
“About what?”
“About this whole mess. Things are getting pretty bad.”
Chrysalis’ eye opened. “I’d say they’re a little beyond getting bad.”
“Yeah.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Okay, so things have been bad for a while. But now they’re getting worse. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.” Twilight’s hoof inched forward, crossing the boundary down the center of the bed.
“Such is the burden of the crown,” Chrysalis said, meeting Twilight’s outstretched hoof with her own. “You would not be the first to strain beneath its weight.”
“I guess.” Twilight sighed. “I’m scared, Chrysalis. What’s going to happen to us? To Equestria?” She crawled closer to Chrysalis, nesting her head against the changeling’s chestplate. “Everypony’s counting on me to save the day again, but . . . I-I don’t know if I can do it this time.”
“Well, I may not have much room to speak on this – seeing that I’m one of the great evils you protected Equestria from – but I think you’ve already done more than your fair share.” Chrysalis’ forelegs encased Twilight, locking the pony into her grasp. Now, Twilight heard a new sound. A heartbeat. She couldn’t be sure whose it was. “You saved my life.”
“Technically, Celestia saved your life,” Twilight said, muffled by Chrysalis’ embrace.
“No, she didn’t.” The changeling lowered her head, resting her chin on Twilight’s head. “I’ve spent so long living in the dark, I had all but given up hope. Celestia sacrificed herself to save nothing more than a husk. You were the one that dove into the abyss and pulled some semblance of life back into me. You saved me from myself, from the monster I became.” One of Chrysalis’ hooves stroked Twilight’s mane. “And no matter what happens, I’ll always be grateful for that.”
“Thank you, Chrysalis.” Twilight sniffled. “That means more to me than you know.” Despite her tears, she couldn’t help but smile. Beneath that, she could hear the heartbeat quicken. The oldest parts of her mind conjured memories long forgotten. Memories of her mother, cradling her in just the same way Chrysalis was now. Chitin might not have been as soft as a pony’s fur, but that didn’t matter. She could have lain here for hours. Maybe even days.
Here, nothing could go wrong. Here, she was safe. Her eyes drifted close.
She could feel Chrysalis’ body moving and could feel warm breath on her neck.
“Twilight?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve had time to think since we returned. I . . . I have something I want to share with you.”
“And what’s that?” Twilight asked.
The heartbeat grew louder, until Twilight could practically feel each pulse of its rhythm through to her core. She craned her neck to the side, feeling Chrysalis’ lips on her neck. Both of their bodies were trembling.
“Do you trust me, Twilight?”
“I . . .” She felt Chrysalis’ fangs brush against her skin. They were razor-sharp, and with each breath, Twilight could feel them sink a little deeper into her skin. “I do,” Twilight finally whispered. She braced herself.
But Chrysalis hesitated. Long enough that they were interrupted by a voice from downstairs. “‘Hello? Princess Twilight? Miss Chrysalis?” Twilight recognized neither the voice nor the accent.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Twilight muttered.
She felt Chrysalis’ chestplate rattle as the changeling laughed quietly. “It would seem we have company. It would be rude to ignore them,” she reminded the princess.
“I know.” Twilight was released from Chrysalis’ grip. The two of them returned to their half of the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“Princess? I’ve arrived with your lunch,” the mare downstairs announced. Twilight’s eyes lit up anew.
“Okay. I am actually kind of hungry,” Twilight decided. With a groan of effort, she pulled herself from the bed and from her partner’s warmth.
“I suppose I could eat,” Chrysalis said. It took her substantially longer to stand than Twilight. Together, the two of them descended, just as they arrived.
Downstairs, a bubbly blue unicorn mare was standing in the doorway. A tray hovered behind her, wrapped in magic the same color as her fur. She had the edge of her hoof in her mouth, glancing around. Twilight couldn’t decide if she was looking for the two of them, or searching for the ghost about to jump out at her.
“Hello,” Twilight said, landing soft enough to avoid dusting the poor maid.
“Oh? Princess Twilight?” The mare relaxed. “I was so worried. I thought I might’ve been given the wrong room.”
“Don’t worry. You’re in the right place.” Now that she heard the mare speak a little more, she thought she might actually recognize the accent. It reminded her of Aloe and Lotus from the Ponyville spa.
“Where should I set the food? Or are you not wanting to eat here?”
“You can set it over there,” Twilight said, nodding toward the table.
“Of course, Princess.” The maid walked with the grace of a trained professional, which clashed with the youthful energy she exerted. “Uhh . . . this table is just a little bit dirty. Here, allow me.” She grabbed a rag from one of her pockets and started to wipe down the table.
“You know, I don’t remember ordering lunch,” Chrysalis said, sliding up beside Twilight.
“Well– Oh? You must be Miss Chrysalis.” The maid seemed unphased by the changeling. “A pleasure to meet you.” She turned back to Twilight. “As I was about to say, Crow sent me to bring you lunch. I can’t vouch for the food, I was just told to bring the tray.” She gave an innocent smile.
“Crow?” Twilight asked.
“Princess Luna’s Lunar Guard? Or — what is it everypony calls them? Justicars? Oh, is that not her name? Apologies, Princess, I’m still trying to learn their names.” Her cheeks burned red.
“No, that’s her. I just didn’t know her name,” Twilight said, trying her best to set the poor girl at ease. “You’re doing just fine.”
“That’s kind of you to say, Princess. Thank you. Now, here we are,” she sang as she set the tray on the now-spotless table. “For the princess, a fresh spring salad, garnished with the last harvest of fresh fruit for the season.” She set the plate at one end of the table and removed the silver dome. True to her word, the tray held a large salad speckled with bits of a variety of different fruits.
“That looks delicious,” Twilight said, struggling to keep herself from drooling.
“And for Miss Chrysalis . . .” the maid’s smile turned a bit crooked. “I was just given a pot of warm tea to bring to you. I guess the kitchen isn’t quite sure what they have that you could eat.” She winced a little. “Would you like me to bring you something else?”
Chrysalis scoffed, earning her a hard elbow from Twilight. “Be nice,” she whispered.
“Fine.” Chrysalis cleared her throat. “No. What you’ve brought is fine.”
“Of course.” The maid levitated a fragile-looking teapot on the table. A column of steam still poured from its spout. Likewise, she set a teacup and saucer beside it. “Is there anything else I can get the two of you?” she asked with a smile, tucking her tray to her side.
“No, thank you. This looks great.” Twilight sat. “Our compliments to the chef.”
“I’ll pass those along. I’ll be back in a little bit for cleanup, so don’t worry about that.” The maid bowed. “Enjoy your lunch, your majesty.” She turned to Chrysalis. “And you as well, Miss Chrysalis.” And with that same innocent smile on her lips, she turned and left, closing the door behind her.
“I thought you said the normal castle staff had been removed?” Chrysalis asked, taking her seat opposite Twilight. “She certainly looked like regular castle staff to me.”
“I don’t know. It’s possible the orders just haven’t gone through yet. What do you say that we just enjoy lunch and try to forget about everything going on right now?” Twilight made an attempt to bat her eyelashes.
“Fine. I suppose a nice distraction could prove valuable.” After a long moment of hesitation, Chrysalis grabbed the teapot and held the lid in place while she poured it into her cup. “So what do you suggest we talk about instead?”
Twilight speared a fork through an orange slice and into the mess of green beneath it. “I don’t know.” She twirled her fork around and held it up to take a bite. “What did you and your drones used to talk about?”
“We didn’t.” Chrysalis sighed between sips of her tea.
“You didn’t talk?” Twilight asked through another mouthful.
“We didn’t have to.” Her eye clouded over. “My children and I could share our thoughts with one another. We could share our emotions. Our desires.” She took another sip. “There’s nothing more comforting than one who knows your innermost secrets and shame, but loves you for them nonetheless.” With a cough, she pulled herself from her trance. “But that’s over with, now. I suppose there’s no point in dwelling on the past.”
“What happened?” Twilight shoved a slice of apple in her mouth.
“Starlight and Thorax happened. Can’t be much of a hivemind without a hive.” She tried to take another drink from her cup, only to realize it was empty. With a scowl, she poured herself another round. “I used to dream through the eyes of my changelings. I would see the world as they did. And now I lay in bed, staring up at the painting of a map on the ceiling.”
“Sounds tough,” Twilight said. She couldn’t deny the guilt that she felt deep inside. Obviously, Chrysalis wasn’t happy about losing that connection, but doing so was what led the two of them together now. Truly, the universe had a strange way of working things out.
“It’s quite easy, actually.” Chrysalis’ lips curved into a smile that sent a chill up Twilight’s spine. “It’s like having everything you are and everything you ever were slowly pulled apart, piece-by-piece. It’s so slow that sometimes you don’t realize it’s even happening. Before you know it, there’s barely enough of you left to feel empty.”
“I’m sorry.” Twilight cast her gaze downward.
“Not exactly the happy conversation you were looking for, was it?” Chrysalis asked, leaning back in her chair. “If that’s what you’re looking for, then I’m really not the one you want to talk to. I don’t have many happy memories.”
“What about your home? Before you came to Equestria? Your first love?”
Chrysalis shook her head. “All ended in disaster.”
“Oh.” Twilight poked listlessly at her lunch. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No. It’s fine.” Chrysalis downed another cup of tea. “For better or for worse, my past is the reason I’m here with you. Let’s just hope this story can have a happy ending. What do you say?”
“I’ll do my best.” Twilight gave a sloppy salute. “Want a slice of apple?”
“Sure.” Chrysalis took the offering and sniffed at it before taking a bite.
“Ohh!” Twilight yelled, nearly toppling her chair. “I know what we can talk about.”
“This should be interesting,” Chrysalis said, leaning back in her chair and finishing the apple slice.
“Tell me about changelings.”
Chrysalis leaned her head to the side. “What do you want to know?”
“What about dietary habits? You and your kind feed on love. But, you also just ate an apple slice. How does all that work?”
For the longest time, Chrysalis sat, silently staring at Twilight, her gaze growing increasingly thin. “Are you serious? You want to ask me about dietary habits? Is that the most interesting topic you can think of?”
“It’s something I’ve wondered since I met my first changeling.” Twilight tapped her hooves together. “Besides, I always like learning new things. Don’t give me that look, you knew I was a nerd when you signed up for this.”
Chrysalis groaned. “We can eat and drink like any other creature.” Her voice took on an uninterested drone, as though she had given this speech a thousand times. “However, the food we consume does not provide any nutrition whatsoever.”
“Interesting. Everything works the same as . . . say . . . a pony?”
“Generally our bodies resemble a pony internally. But, much like our outward appearance, we can change our internal anatomy at will.”
“Fascinating.”
Chrysalis pursed her lips. “I don’t know if I would call it fascinating. But, since we’re on the topic, are there any other questions about my . . . species that are on your mind?”
“Oh, I have plenty of questions. Would you mind answering them?”
“I suppose not,” Chrysalis said, standing up from her seat. “What, are you planning on writing a book?”
“That could be interesting. Sounds like something I could do to relax when all this trouble is over. Would you want to help me?”
“Tell you what,” Chrysalis said, turning back around and stalking towards Twilight. “When all this is over, you can ask all the questions about my anatomy that you want.” She leaned in closer, until Twilight was forced to move her chair back. “And the best part? I’ll even give you private access in case you want to try any . . . experimentation.”
“That would be quite helpful.” Twilight’s mind ran wild with possibilities. “Just think of all the things I could learn.”
Chrysalis pressed her hoof to her forehead. “That isn’t what . . . you know what, nevermind.”
“Actually, I do have another question.” Twilight’s tone became serious. “Upstairs, you said you wanted to share something with me. What did you mean?”
The changeling’s muscles tensed. “I did say that, didn’t I?” She turned her back to Twilight and put a hoof against her forehead. “Tell you what, I’m a little tired right now. Why don’t you come back tonight and we can talk about that.”
“Alright.” Twilight nodded.
She watched as Chrysalis walked up the wall to her bedroom. Twilight finished her lunch in silence. With nothing better to occupy her time for the moment, she gathered the dirty dishes and took them down to the kitchen for washing.
Chrysalis detached from the wall, nearly tripping as her weight went lopsided. She’d managed to get around pretty well all day on only three legs, but jumping and climbing weren’t quite so simple. Twilight’s questions swam through her head. She was like a child, eager for the present her parents promised her. Unfortunately, children didn’t always like their gifts. She wondered if the same held true for Twilight.
But there would be time for that later. For now, she strolled past her bed and into the room beside it. As she thought, it was indeed a bathroom. And a rather nice one at that. She wiped the mirror with a cloth from the linen closet, revealing a single stripe through the filth where she could see her own reflection.
Her eye was bloodshot. Probably had something to do with how exhausted she felt. When was the last time she had fed? A week? Two? No. It hadn’t been that long. It couldn’t have been. Shaking her head, she returned to the linen closet next to the sink counter. She tossed a few of the top towels from the shelf, scowling at their filth. Halfway down the pile, she found one that would suit her purposes and hung it over the shower door. Her magic twisted the knob, rattling the pipes in the walls and eventually summoning a sprinkle of water from the showerhead.
The water pressure was nothing spectacular, but seemed to strengthen more over time. More surprising was the temperature. No matter how dirty and disheveled the room appeared, the basic functions held up surprisingly well. Hot water. A comfy bed. An entryway that would keep most ponies out. Perhaps she could get used to this.
As she reached for the handle on the shower door, the room started to spin. Chrysalis blinked a couple times, trying to fight off the dizzy spell. Yet, the harder she fought, the more powerful it became. Her legs buckled beneath her, sending her crashing into the door and collapsing onto the floor. Sitting there, she massaged her temple with a hoof.
Her eyelid felt so heavy. She felt like she might fall asleep, right here on the bathroom floor. She had slept on the ride home, hadn’t she? And less than half a day had passed, right? As these dots connected in Chrysalis’ brain, her instincts kicked in. Something wasn’t right here. She staggered toward the door and back into her room. She could still hear the shower running behind her wasting all of her precious hot water. Unfortunately, that would have to wait. She had more pressing issues to attend to first.
“Hello?” A voice from downstairs. The same one as before. The maid.
It took an immense effort for Chrysalis to point her lurching form back toward the lower floor. By the time she reached it, she didn’t have the strength to stand. Instead, she pulled herself forward, dragging her body across the hardwood floor. There was an odd taste on her tongue. Fruity, yet sour.
With a grunt of effort, Chrysalis hauled her lifeless form down through the hole, landing hard against the scaffolding, but it didn’t break beneath her. She heard the maid gasp at the sudden and violent entrance.
“H-help,” Chrysalis stammered. She pulled herself down another level. Then another. Until she didn’t feel the wood of the scaffolding beneath her, but the hard touch of stone. Her landing was awkward, knocking out what little wind she had left in her.
“Miss Chrysalis?” The maid asked. She walked forward, careful in approach to the obviously troubled mare. “Is something the matter?”
“T-Twilight. Get . . . Twilight,” Chrysalis gasped. Breathing became more difficult with each second that passed. The shadows at the corner of her vision started to push inward.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but I don’t think Twilight will be able to help you.” Her voice sounded just as sickeningly sweet as ever. But even in her stupor, Chrysalis could taste the malice in it. Had it been there earlier? How hadn’t she noticed it? “It would seem she’s busy clearing the dishes. Silly princess. I told her I would take care of that.” The maid knelt down beside Chrysalis. “How does it feel?”
“How does . . .” Another set of dots connected in Chrysalis’ head, though it was far too late to act on. “You . . . something in . . . the tea?” she croaked.
“Oh? A quick learner.” The maid flashed that same innocent smile. “Well, I guess not quick enough. Unfortunate. You know, you must have drank quite a bit of that tea. I didn’t think it would work that fast.”
“I’ll . . . kill you,” Chrysalis huffed.
“I don’t think you will.” The maid leaned in closer. “But you’re welcome to try.”
Chrysalis drew a well of energy from her core. The last of her magic. With a flash of green, she rose to her hooves.
“Oh? Be careful. You don’t want to hurt yourself.” The maid reached out, as though offering to help Chrysalis stand. Despite the obvious trap, Chrysalis took the offered aid. But she didn’t wait for the maid to try anything. Instead, she hefted her weight back, pulling the maid off balance and dragging her closer.
The unicorn’s eyes flashed in panic as Chrysalis’ hoof slammed into her cheek and sent her rolling backwards. And with that last defiant act, her reserves finally ran out. She collapsed to the floor in a heap. Lacking the strength to even crawl, she could do nothing but watch as the maid recomposed herself.
“That was rude,” she jeered, straightening her headdress. Her muzzle was bent crooked, a trickle of blood pouring from her left nostril. “But not wholly undeserved.” Overall, she seemed eerily unphased by the attack. She walked over to the table, the bounce in her step evolving nearly into a skip. “Oh, what a shame. It looks like princess Twilight left a knife up here. How clumsy of her.”
Chrysalis watched as the maid drew a kitchen knife from one of her pockets. Brandishing the silver blade, she returned to Chrysalis, kneeling over her again. The changeling tried to speak, but even her lips didn’t have the strength to move. She could only watch as that sharpened blade inched ever closer.
“Oh? What’s that? This little thing?” The maid twirled the blade with her magic. “This isn’t for you, unfortunately. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but he made me promise to spare you. It is what it is.” Chrysalis felt a tug on her mane, pulling her face up from the floor.
“You know, I’ve been waiting for this day for so long. You don’t know what it’s been like having to just watch you parade around here day after day, poisoning the city and the princesses alike with your venom.” She ran the blade against the edge of her hoof. “Don’t act surprised that I saw through your act. I have a bit of experience with changelings myself. In fact, I was right down the street when you decided to have your little fun. Do you have any idea what you cost me?”
At this point, her words barely registered to Chrysalis. The numbness had spread to her mind.
“You know, I thought you’d be more fun. I guess that’s what I get for using the whole bottle.” She sighed. “Whatever. I guess I’d better just get this over with.” She brought the knife down hard on herself, driving the blade deep into her shoulder. She screamed in pain as a splash of blood splattered across Chrysalis’ face. “Attacking . . . a poor defenseless maid . . . with a knife no less . . .” The maid smiled through her broken teeth. “That’s low, even for you, Miss Chrysalis.”
As the darkness finally took hold of her, the last thing Chrysalis saw was that innocent, bloody smile.