“Hello again, Karapass.” It was strange to see the Grand Matron seated on an obsidian throne, but everyone has their own preferences. Most unusual was the ancient's form, but it was likely justified with her being so old. While Chrysalis and the other queen's had small facial plates, much of Karapass's head was wrapped in chitin, locking it into a fierce expression.
“Yes, it's good to see you in one piece.” She smiled slightly when she said that, I think. It's really hard to tell with her facial chitin is fused together like that. I also noticed she only referred to me, hinting at some possible hostility or unease around the other of our group. Still, it was good that she was meeting new people, in any event. “I take it the two of you found your trip adequate for your tastes?”
“Of course.” Luna spoke to the old, or would young work in this case?, changeling like they knew each other. They had spoken at least once before, I was sure of it, but there wasn't exactly much for me to go on. “I'm thankful you let us accompany Taylor and Chrysalis, it means a lot to the three of us.”
“Speak for yourself, I just came to watch Taylor kill something.” Jay was as tactful as always. It did not escape my notice, as it surely did one or two of the others, but there was a distinct gasp from within my friend's backpack. I would be sure to ask about that as soon as we were done here; I very clearly recognized the voice as Applebloom's.
“Be that as it may, forty-eight hours remain until the duel, so I suggest you make yourself at home.” Right about then, I could tell Karapass was glad Chrysalis had picked me. Maybe she didn't like the thought of the Pyromaniac courting her youngest daughter, but I wasn't that much of a step up, to be honest. Scratch that, it probably had to do with the horror stories out of the Borderlands more than his general immaturity, because that was a trait we shared. “Please look around and visit our shops and landmarks.”
“You have your own economy down here?” I had figured they just went to Nova for their trade needs, but it seemed I was wrong. It was a fair mistake, to be honest, but there was just a certain security that came form a self-sufficient market.
“Yes, our main export happens to be cosmetics.” After hearing Chrysalis say that, I felt too much of a temptation to avoid the obvious joke.
“They're not tested on animals, are they?” Jay laughed like I expected, but that was by far the most animated response the jest received. Karapass's stoic face became even flatter, defying the physical laws of the universe to make her appear even less amused than her fused chitin allowed. “What? It's an honest question.”
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“You don' think they've found us, do ya?” Applebloom was panicking, especially after she gasped when violence was mentioned. She'd only seen Taylor a few times, but she got the impression he was a scary man with sensitive ears. He probably already knew she and her fellow crusaders were hiding out in Jay's backpack.
“Psh, no way; those guys're neva gonna figure it out.” Babs had her own accent, one the farm's flautist found enraging, but she still managed to whisper low enough for the human not to hear. Besides, the Manehatten native wasn't scare of any changeling or their pet human. It didn't matter that the golden orange filly had seen the larger teen and Big Macintosh scrap once. That didn't end well for the red stallion. Or the table they were near.
“This is awesome!” Scootaloo was excited about the adventure, even if she was stuffed in a backpack that smelled like old socks. Actually, that was probably because her face was buried in an old sock, or what looked like one. “We're like spies on a mission to enemy territory.”
“Quiet! They might hear you.” Sweetie Belle hated being the group's unofficial voice of reason specifically for cases like this. It seemed that every other week, the Cutie Mark Crusaders somehow found their way into a dangerous situation that could have been otherwise avoided by proper application of logic and common sense.
“Who might hear you?” The new voice had a purr to it, not the sound a cat makes when it has a mouse by the tail. It was obviously Chorion, back to see the group to their rooms. With a slight ruffling of the bag and the tingle of changeling magic, the four fillies were deposited on a soft bed. The Cutie Mark Crusaders looked at the relatively towering queen in fear. However, the scary monster had plans that were far from what the children were terrified of, quite the opposite, really. “Aren't you just the sweetest things!”
“What?” Scootaloo managed that much before the foursome was wrapped in a crushing embrace by the centuries-old insectoid mare. Maternal instinct was still prevalent in the changeling species, and seeing the four adorable fillies was too much for Chorion's mind to take. At least the CMC had nothing to fear from the other queens or their journey anymore.
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“Forty-eight hours.” I repeated the phrase for the umpteenth time that day as I paced in the room Chrysalis and I would share for the duration of our stay in the grand hive. It wasn't that I was scared, far from it, I just had a sinking feeling in my gut that something was going to go horribly wrong in the near future. I had taken the time to shed my armor, if only to allow my skin some contact with the open air. It was all I could do to calm my fraying nerves. “Forty-eight hours until I have to kill someone I've never met.”
“This isn't going to be a repeat of Cuatla.” Chrysalis had already started to lie down, her dark form barely registering above the black quilt that covered our large bed. She understood my situation as best she could, even knowing why I was averse o sleeping at the moment. A visit from the statue would be detrimental, and for my sanity's sake, I could not risk troubling myself with it. “You've had a rough couple of days.”
“I hope I haven't been to difficult to get along with.” I took a seat next to the dethroned queen, running a hand through her mane as I went. It was a calming gesture for both of us, but it sadly did more for me than her. “It's just... tough, thinking about the fight, I mean.”
“Humans are social creatures, Taylor; I'd be more worried if you were looking forward to the bloodshed.” She had a point. Besides, I had forty-eight hours to think about it and prepare. However, I'll be the first to admit that I did feel a tad anxious about the duel, and not in the bad way. The killing wasn't what I was hoping to for, if only because the acts of violence would be enough to knock me down to regular life again.
“I suppose you're right.” I took the spot next to her, stretching out as much as I could. My thoughts briefly turned to my attempts at psychic manipulation, the possible applications for it. I'm nothing too special, so it stood to reason that anyone could learn the skill, once I had the technique mastered enough to understand how it worked. At the very least, I wanted to project the negation field at will, and be able to specify where it went. The exercise had left my mind tired and strained, a terrible contrast against my physical self. My muscles twitched at even the slightest provocation, and the need for some depressant to stay my errant nerves until they calmed was pressing.
Luckily for me, I knew someone with a natural remedy.
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Dammit. I did not want to be in the cathedral again, but now pieces were starting to fall into place. I recognized the marble's grain and color from the solid walls of the Deceiver's Chapel, which left me with little worry about the statue's identity. The faceless thing sat on its golden throne, the chessboard still set the way we left it. The stalemate would have to wait, because I wanted nothing more than to return to the waking world. The smug prick gestured to a stool that materialized from thin air, much faster than anything it'd created in the past.
Despite being told the Deceiver was human, I can't imagine any member of my species living for tens of thousands of years and still maintaining some semblance of his or her old self. The masked thing seemed to laugh, or at least its body shook like it was. An armored hand went up to the border of the black and white of it's full-faced helmet, finding a hidden seam that would have been impossible to find were it not familiar with the suit. Finger gripped at the mask's bottom, lifting it from a face that likely hadn't seen the sun in centuries. Black slime dripped from the rapidly opening shell as an inhuman howling filled the church's still air.
Right about then I woke up without so much as a sound.