Marks of Harmony
Part 13
It was a new morning in Ponyville, and Twilight felt a twinge of regret as she entered Ponyville’s Town Hall with Rarity. In all of the commotion in being caught up in Chrysalis’s affairs, her attention to her fellow townsfolk had all but disintegrated. On one hoof, she tried to convince herself that this was a good sign: that it was encouraging that ponies were not sprawled on her doorstep begging for something to eat. However, she could not deny that she had failed dismally as an ambassador. While Aurora was partly to blame for this—giving Twilight little information to relay back to the town either because of cryptic messages or taking matters into her own hooves—Twilight also knew she should have tried to do more to calm everypony and make them feel safe. Princess Celestia would have known exactly how to handle the situation she knew. Entering Town Hall was a reminder to Twilight that no matter how favored she was of Celestia and now matter how much fate had gifted her, she still had much to learn if she was ever to live up to the Princess’s legacy.
Inside the central buidling of Ponyville, those of its citizens for whom the excitement of seeing the Armies of the Sun and Moon had faded milled about, speaking animatedly to one another. There was a simple volunteer at the door to the Mayor’s office, taking down the names of ponies when they arrived. And every time somepony would leave the adjacent room, he would make a neat strikethrough on his list and call out a name. The whole scene produced in Twilight a feeling of remorse that the Mayor was being forced to bear a load that was in truth largely meant for her. Not that she would be able to do any better than the Mayor; in fact, Twilight half-heartedly grinned to herself at the idea of her trying to stay focused, organized, and patient as dozens of ponies clamored to speak with her. No, the Mayor was doing a fine job, but it was the principle of the thing.
“Twilight dear,” Rarity said concernedly. “Is something the matter? You look perplexed the way you’re staring off into space like that.” Twilight briefly shook her head, bringing her thoughts to the present reality.
“I’m okay Rarity,” Twilight assured her friend. “And thanks for volunteering to come along. From the look of things, this might take a while.”
“It was nothing dear,” Rarity replied good-naturedly. “Besides, the tension between our little band is not good for a mare’s complexion.”
“You’ve got that right,” Twilight agreed, it not the first time she noticed she was frowning more the longer Aurora’s occupation lasted. “Yes, my name is Twilight Sparkle and I need to see the Mayor immediately,” she said to the impromptu secretary.
“Sorry Miss,” the reedy Earth pony stallion said. “I’ve got strict instructions to make a list, and not to give anypony favors.”
“This isn’t about favors,” Twilight replied grumpily. Of all things, asking for the Mayor’s heralds should have been the easiest part of making the speech. “This is about all of Ponyville, and what Aurora Streak wanted me to tell everypony.”
“Everything’s about that half-crazy mare,” the stallion snorted. “And you’ve only been to her ship once ma’am. It’s not like she’s told you anything else.”
“Oh for the love of...!” Rarity growled, her horn glowing. The Earth pony was promptly grasped in her cyan magic, levitated to the side of the entrance to the Mayor’s office, and set back onto the carpet.
“No!” the stallion said, zipping back in front of them before either mare had been able to take more than two steps. “Try that again, and I won’t put your names down at all.”
“What’s going on out here Fountain?” the Mayor asked, her head stuck out the door to her office in curiosity.
“These two mares,” Fountain replied, frustrated. “They tried to get past me.”
“Is that Twilight Sparkle?” the Mayor asked, completely ignoring her secrectary’s complaints.
“Yes Mayor, it’s me. It’s urgent.” Twilight replied authoritatively. She and Rarity took their chance and brushed past Fountain to speak with the Mayor directly. “Can we talk with you right away?”
“We wouldn’t come and disrupt this nice system you have going here if we could help it,” Rarity added sincerely.
“I won’t even ask you girls if it’s about Aurora Streak,” the Mayor replied bedraggled. “Do we need to step in the office?”
Twilight shook her head before saying, “No Mayor. I was just wondering if you could lend me your heralds.”
“What’s the message?” the Mayor asked without hesitation.
“I need everypony to meet around the library so I can talk to them,” Twilight replied. “I had another meeting with Aurora and she has a—I guess you could call it a procedure—that she wants to offer to everypony who wants it.”
“And you’re sure this ‘procedure’ is safe?” the Mayor asked in a predictably wary tone.
“It works, that’s for sure,” Rarity answered instead, her voice tainted ever so slightly by revulsion. “But whether or not it is safe is another matter entirely.”
“Would I advise having it done? No,” Twilight said firmly. “But that’s only because Princess Celestia has taught me much about the innate driving forces of magic. Other ponies might not have any problem with it. That’s their decision to make.”
“I’m sorry Twilight,” the Mayor said, “but I cannot grant you use of the heralds to carry that message. If something were to happen, the blame would be on me for acting foolishly.”
“Then let me take the blame,” Twilight said. “I’ll take full liability.” Leaning in close to the Mayor’s ear, she added, “This is a part of Princess Luna’s negotiation plan.” Twilight had to give the elder mare credit; she was a true politician, even if only the mayor of a small rural town. Where most ponies’ eyes would have dilated massively and their very body language betray their shock, relief, and enthusiasm, the Mayor maintained a straight, level face: not a muscle moved.
“And you will take any legal consequences?” the Mayor asked evenly, as if no new information had passed to her.
“Yes, I will,” Twilight affirmed.
“You have her request on paper, Fountain?” the Mayor asked, leaning around Rarity and Twilight to see her assistant.
“Yes ma’am. Just on the off-chance you’d need it,” Fountain answered.
“Then you know where to go,” the Mayor said, her assistant running off before she had even finished. Returning her attention to Twilight, she said, “And you don’t have to worry about me revealing anything early.”
“She’ll appreciate it,” Twilight said, nodding knowingly. “Thank you.”
“Do your best,” the Mayor replied, going back into her office and closing the door.
The two mares followed suit, taking their leave of the building with Rarity shooting warning glares at anypony that eyed them too curiously. Nevertheless, the library was crowded with ponies around the door and in the road, all yelling at angrily at the door. Nothing any one of them said could be understood, lost in the garble of voices and disjointed shouts.
“Great,” Twilight muttered, not trying in the least to hide her sarcasm.
“The nerve!” Rarity exclaimed. “To think that you know why everything is happening the way that it is.”
“You of all ponies should know about the power of a stupid rumor,” Twilight glowered to her friend.
“That is hardly the point,” Rarity replied, stopping with Twilight a few paces away while they tried to decide how to get in the library without causing any more of a commotion. “You are the student of Princess Celestia herself, and I would think my fellow citizens know you well enough to not be so ridiculous.” The two watched the gathering mob for a little while more before Rarity spoke up again, “Why not just teleport us inside? You know your own house well enough and somepony has even had the sense to close all of the curtains.”
“The flash is too bright,” Twilight responded briskly, having already thought of and tossed away that idea. “It would go right through the curtains.” Rarity sighed deeply, completely out of viable options that did not involve forcibly throwing ponies out of the way with magic. She was sitting on the road, tapping one hoof in thoughtful repetition while gazing into the pink-tinted sky when a resounding thud echoed through the street.
The clamour of the mob escalated into war cry-like yelling, the voices becoming unified in its support of the actions of any of its members. “Hey!” Twilight started, caught off guard. “What are you all doing?!” she asked incredulously. Rarity scrambled to her hooves, trotting a few steps to catch Twilight and looking for the source of her friend’s disbelief. “What makes you think that throwing rocks at my library is going to accomplish anything!?”
“Are you serious Twilight?” Rarity asked, hardly believing the accusation herself. When her friend nodded sharply, Rarity added to the mob, “The shame! Is this the kind of behavior the Princesses would expect out of us?!”
“But he’s in there!” a pony from somewhere within the mob struggled to be heard. “That cohort of the alicorn! Let’s see how they both like it when they get separated! Maybe then she’ll let us see our Princesses again!” Any calming effect Rarity and Twilight’s reprimanding may have had was instantly lost, ponies stomping their hooves in agreement.
“Inky is more trouble for anypony than he’s worth,” Twilight grumbled. “Rarity, we’re going to teleport inside.”
“Whenever you’re ready Twilight,” she replied. Twilight built up the magic, drawing the attention of some ponies in the mob, but had vanished and reappeared inside the library before most of them even noticed.
“Woah! Sweet Celestia!” Rainbow Dash’s voice being the first new sound Twilight heard. “Don’t do that again Twi. I thought one of those dimwits outside had decided to teleport in.”
“Sorry Rainbow,” Twilight said. “But hey, that’s a good idea.” She lit her horn again, this time a thin violet beam of magic coming off of its tip and vanishing through the ceiling.
While Twilight was confident in the shield spell that was her family’s specialty, the energetic guffaws and giggling laughter from Applejack and Pinkie Pie upstairs were not an unwelcome confirmation of her success. “Those silly ponies!” Pinkie lost herself in hysterics.
“Rollin’ head over hooves like an armadillo!” Applejack giggled. “Who’d a thunk it?”
“And that shield will hold for how long exactly?” Inky Jay’s scratch of a voice jolted Twilight’s head to a shelf of books partially hidden in an alcove. Inky had not even trotted out of the isolated section, nor had he even turned his eyes away from scrutinizing the books.
“Find Chrysalis,” Twilight hissed in Rarity’s ear before addressing Inky as Rainbow flew off to join Applejack and Pinkie. “Indefinitely if I keep recharging it,” Twilight answered him, doing her best to keep any irritation out of her voice, though she could not help adding, “You do realize why I needed to put up?”
“Ignorance and fear have been nurtured under Celestia’s rule,” Inky replied matter-of-factly. “Or will you argue that any other motives are required for rioters?”
“No, but Princess Celestia isn’t responsible for those things,” Twilight retorted. “Aurora is.”
“It amazes me that you will defend her to the last even when the truth is right in front of your eyes,” Inky spat disdainfully. “Aurora did not bring about either of those things. She merely caused them to surface amongst ponies who had been protected and not allowed to overcome them.”
“Do you not have any faith in the pony race at all?!” Twilight gasped, unable to understand why Inky only ever focused on the negatives of pony society. “At least Aurora believes everypony can become better.”
“Do I believe in in the pony race as a whole?” Inky repeated her question to himself, swiftly answering, “No, I do not. My faith rests in individuals.”
“Have Princess Luna and Spearhead already left for the ship?” she asked, shaking her head in a sigh. She and Inky were idealistically opposed, and she knew that very few things would shake a worldview built by observation and experience.
“Yes,” Inky replied, trotting leisurely out of the alcove, a book under one wing. Twilight could not see the title, but it was a large tome, whatever it was. “She has instructions to stay inconspicuous and that they will be transported inside via the lift.”
“So why are you still here, besides looking for the book?” Twilight asked, a scathing tone working its way under her words. While she did not particularly hate Inky Jay, his opinionated persona would inevitably spawn an argument between the two of them, and under the present circumstances, a snide comment-ridden philosophical debate with him of all ponies was the last thing she wanted to do.
“When your friends,” Inky answered, pausing as his eyes motioned upstairs from where amused laughter could still be heard, “told me of how you planned to spread the word on Lady Aurora’s Latency Project, I thought it best to stay behind and explain to the crowd how the Ascension will be conducted.”
“You know, I distinctly remember you saying you were just a pony who took notes for Aurora,” Twilight said slyly. “You lied didn’t you?”
“I did, under her direct orders,” Inky smirked at her realization. “The way she wanted to reveal everything to you she had meticulously laid out. Even I was not to interfere with that until her motives had become clear, and even then, she forbade me from revealing anything of consequence.”
“I could be dishonest with myself and say I would never do something like that,” Twilight admitted with a light chuckle, “but if Princess Celestia asked me to lie for her sake and the sake of Equestria, I would probably only hesitate long enough to wonder if it was really Princess Celestia asking me to lie.”
With nothing more to say on the subject, or really any subject, Inky remained silent, lying down out of the way by a bookshelf, intently opening the large volume he had extracted from deeper in the library. Now out from under his wing, Twilight recognized an anthology of philosophy from across many ages and races. That it appealed to Inky was of no surprise to her. She watched him for a few minutes, feeling as if there was something they still needed to discuss; but eventually waved the feeling away. His contemplative silence was not a feature of his personality she was accustomed to experiencing, and she thus attributed her odd directionless feeling to the unfamiliarity.
Deciding that trying to find a way around the odd sensation would be pointless, and that if she stood there aimlessly any longer Inky would make some cynical remark, Twilight directed her hoofsteps into the kitchen. Not only did she want something nice as a snack, but Rarity had entered the kitchen first in her search for Chrysalis and had yet to come back. The only logical reason for this in Twilight’s mind, was that Chrysalis was there as well.
Twilight’s hairs began to stand on edge as she neared the kitchen, the whispers of Fluttershy and Rarity coming to her ears only just as she eased the door open. Fluttershy squeaked as quietly as was possible at Twilight’s unexpected intrusion, cutting off Rarity in the middle of whatever she had been saying. “What’s—” Twilight began to ask in a normal speaking voice, only to have the words stolen out of her mouth at the sight of Chrysalis.
Beautiful did not even seem appropriate to capture the majestic display before her. Twilight, for her part, had never considered the Changelings to be outright ugly. They disturbed her more than the other races with their eerie similarity to pony physiology, but she would have never used ‘ugly’ as a word by which to describe their physical appearance. But just as much, Twilight had never thought of them as prime specimens of beauty. But now struck with Chrysalis’s current appearance, she was forced to reconsider her position.
The queen was sitting meditatively at one end of Twilight’s meager table in her natural form. Her eyes were closed as if in a peaceful dream and her breathing was the restful fall and rise of a practiced monk. The sense of tranquility she radiated was not a feeling Twilight thought she would ever notice in Chrysalis, let alone so plainly see. But her clear inner peace was only like the backdrop to a master’s painting. Her horn was glowing not with its usual sickening green, but with a deep, soothing, and soft turquoise; and it was not actually enveloped in an aura. The curved notches in her horn radiated a faint glow, giving off small rays like the morning sun through a break in the clouds. Her horn, however, was not all that glowed with the semi-blue light. The edges of every hole in her legs, wings, and even mane and tail emitted the soft glow. She was like a stream twinkling under starlight, peaceful and softly striking. Twilight could only compare the sight to that of Celestia rising with the radiance of her sun during the Summer Sun Celebration.
“What... what is she doing?” Twilight hushed to Fluttershy and Rarity, now realizing why they had reduced their conversation to mere whispers. It was that same feeling of hushed crowds when Celestia stood before them in all her regal glory.
“Fluttershy thinks she’s sleeping,” Rarity breathed back, “and while there’s nothing to say otherwise, I think she’s... feeding.” The last word was punctuated by a visible shudder.
“Thing is Twilight,” Spike leaned in between his surrogate mother and Rarity, having just come out of the walk-in pantry, “she talked about feeding when Rainbow’n I would’ve been around to see it. She sure as hay didn’t look like that then.”
“She could have been lying,” Rarity said flatly. Spike shrugged, offering up no further opinion.
“She’s so much prettier like this don’t you think Twilight?” Fluttershy asked, her normal speaking volume having not needed adjusting.
“It is beautiful,” Twilight admitted. “It’s like a stained glass window actually.”
“It sends shivers up my spine when I think about what she might be doing,” Rarity complained, still resolute in her idea.
“I have an audience,” Chrysalis’s multi-layered voice said matter-of-factly, causing each pony and dragon’s heart to leap unexpectedly. The glow in her apertures faded slightly when she spoke, and vanished entirely when Chrysalis opened her eyes.
“Ssh!” Twilight tried to be as covert as possible as she tried to keep Chrysalis from alerting Inky Jay to her presence. “Change! Inky’s here!”
“Why?” Chrysalis asked, affronted. “Why is the brat still here when I can no longer feel Luna’s presence?”
“It’s me,” Twilight replied, sharing in the queen’s displeasure. “He’s here to make sure everypony understands how Aurora will go about performing her Latency procedure. Now, please change.”
“I will only acquiesce to residing in a lesser form for a little more time,” Chrysalis said pointedly, her voice shifting mid-sentence as she became the pale pink unicorn. “You and Luna have three days to convince Aurora to release my children by your methods. After that, if you still wish me to spare Rainbow Dash’s life, all of you will aid me in a forceful reclaiming.”
“If Princess Luna and I make no headway in three days,” Twilight said somewhat defeatedly, “force may the only thing left to all of us.” Chrysalis nodded, not moving from her place, instead turning her discerning gaze upon Fluttershy, who had been staring at her since she woke from the trance-like state. The shy pegasus quickly averted her own pupils with barely audible noises vaguely resembling an apology.
“You don’t have to apologize dear,” Rarity said to her reassuringly.
“So, which of you will ask the difficult question?” Chrysalis asked, her voice tinged with amusement.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Twilight asked genuinely as she levitated a box of crackers from the pantry and teleported a pen and quill from her room. She immediately began scribbling out the outline for all the points she wanted to make in her announcement. When nopony answered either Chrysalis or herself, Twilight glanced up to see awkward grimaces or indecision on Rarity and Fluttershy’s faces while Spike was simply frowning deeply.
Understanding struck her just as Spike asked the queen, “What the hay were you doing? You were all peaceful looking and this weird glowy light, magicky stuff was coming from all the—” His faces scrunched and his a claw pointed repetitively to her legs as he struggled to find the right word to describe her riddled appearance. “—holes,” he finished lamely.
“Do I not appear peaceful at any other time?” Chrysalis asked, for some reason more intrigued by this portion of Spike’s description than anything else.
“Not really dear,” Rarity replied almost subconsciously. “Most of the time, you look like me when I’m several weeks overdue for my date at the spa.”
“Not that it isn’t obvious why Chrysalis,” the queen muttered to herself, annoyed. “What you were seeing,” she addressed all of them, “was me feeding.”
“Well, I thought you looked very pretty,” Fluttershy said uncertainly while Rarity cringed as her suspicions were confirmed as true. Chrysalis appeared sincerely surprised at receiving Fluttershy’s compliment, almost like she had never been given one before, from pony, Changeling, or otherwise.
She was still curiously eyeing Fluttershy, a hint of a pleased smile on her face, when Spike asked, “But that doesn’t make sense. You’ve talked about feeding when I’ve been around, and it looked nothing like that.”
“Changelings can feed in two ways,” Chrysalis replied to the group at large. “The way you are talking about is just a common practice that is invisible most of the time. For Changelings, it is like a pony eating when he is hungry. And like for ponies, that love we consume will only last so long before we need more. Flying or using magic always requires more than what we consume like that.”
“So a Changeling could starve itself by performing lots and lots of magic?” Twilight asked, intrigued. She knew from experience more recent than was comfortable that magic took a toll on the caster’s body, but she had never realized it was so much more drastic for Changelings. “How do you do it then?”
“It’s rather simple to Changelings,” Chrysalis said, like she was sharing preschool knowledge. “The gaps in our limbs, manes, and tails are like magic vacuoles for love energy. What you just saw was me replenishing those reserves.”
“That’s amazing!” Twilight exclaimed gleefully. “So that’s why Changeling magic is so much stronger than unicorn magic! You have reserves that aren’t tied to your biological functions!”
“That’s the scientific way of saying it, yes,” Chrysalis answered, it clear she was confused as to why Twilight was acting so excited over common Changeling knowledge.
“I still think it was pretty,” Fluttershy said again, smiling when Chrysalis looked back at her with the same, almost bewildered look. “Has nopony ever said that before?”
“I...” Chrysalis started to say, unsure, “no.”
“As... disturbing as it is,” Rarity hesitantly agreed, “it does have a feeling of grace to it.”
“I still say it was weird,” Spike said flatly.
“You don’t have to look so surprised Chry—Morning Dew,” Twilight caught herself, though her words remained amused. “Most ponies don’t think Changelings are ugly. They’re just scared of them impersonating somepony they love.” Rarity winced slightly when Twilight mentioned Changelings not being ugly, but she said nothing and hid most of her face behind her mug of tea.
“Um... this is kind of awkward Morning, but I need a little favor,” Twilight said after a brief period of silence punctuated by the occasional crunching of a cracker.
“Yes?” Chrysalis asked almost amicably, the contrast in her mood from its usual brooding self as sharp as night and day.
“Normally I do all my own proofreading,” Twilight said, “but since this is a speech, would you mind looking over it?” She slid the notepad across the table, Chrysalis’s near-white hooves catching it before her magic grasped it and brought it before her face. It was not a long nor eloquent piece of writing, but for Twilight, Chrysalis seemed to take an unnecessarily long time going over it. The time dragging effect was only made worse by Twilight’s inability to see Chrysalis’s eyes moving across the page. When the queen finally did lower the notepad back to the table, she paused thoughtfully before answering.
“If you are trying to be an uninspiring and boring pony,” she said, “then this speech accomplishes that. I understand your desire to be objective, but surely you can do better than this.”
“So, it’s bad?” Twilight asked tentatively. She knew Chrysalis was being critical, but unlike Celestia, she was not pointing out the exact problems, leaving Twilight in a worse place than before.
“No,” Chrysalis replied, twisting her hoof on her transformed mane, “but you have no heart in it. You may want to allow every pony to make their own choice, but this speech makes you sound like her servant. You just sound like a messenger, rather than a pony empathizing with your audience.”
“And you would know all about empathy,” Spike said sarcastically.
“I would,” Chrysalis said, casting him a glare. “I would not have remained Queen for long if I did not.” To Twilight she elaborated, “The words are fine, but be sure to add your own opinion into your tone. If you don’t, the ponies of this town will think you to be on her side completely. That is something none of us want.”
Twilight nodded appreciatively, levitating the notepad back in front of her. The quill met parchment as she scribbled out a few words and replaced them with more distinct synonyms. “Thank you Morning,” she said sincerely.
“Anything to speed up the release of my children,” Chrysalis replied.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Princess Luna will do her very best,” Twilight reassured her. “We’ll get them back.” Chrysalis nodded silently, but it was hollow; and for the first time, Twilight caught the depth of Chrysalis’s feelings for the safety of her brood. In that, Twilight could not help but compare her to Princess Celestia herself. And in that positive comparison she had never thought she would ever make, Twilight realized that letting down Chrysalis in this would leave her with as much regret and incurable guilt as though she had failed Princess Celestia when she needed her most. Despite how they had come together and despite Chrysalis’s perpetually vengeful attitude toward Rainbow Dash, Twilight could not deny it: she all but considered Chrysalis a friend.
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A litter rising with the clanking of manually turned cogs, a hall of wood cut directly from the Everfree Forest, and a low humming gently drifting through the air: these were the sensations Princess Luna felt as she and Spearhead were lifted into the gargantuan vessel of Aurora’s design. Luna had not expected anything different. Everything from the bareness of the halls, to the low level of light, and even to Aurora’s choice in design and spacing of those illuminating fixtures matched near perfectly with the look and feel of her lab when it had been within the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. Aurora had constructed it all with precious attention to detail, far superior than those replicas sold by interior decorators and even more exact than replicas used for museum purposes.
Beside her, Luna felt Spearhead’s stance tighten with the heavy fall of the litter locking into the ship’s hull. “Spearhead,” she stated calmly, “settle thy thoughts. We wilt alert thee to a threat if we perceiveth one. ‘Til then, at ease.”
“I’m sorry Your Majesty,” her general replied, not sounding apologetic, “but my duty is to protect you, and I will do that in all places I feel you are not safe.”
“Then thou couldst at least relaxeth thy face,” Luna said.
“Duly noted Your Majesty,” Spearhead answered, his jaw becoming less rigid and his brows less furrowed. He still looked aggressively intimidating, but Luna took no more issue with his appearance. He was a Night Guard after all, and they had an even fiercer reputation than her sister’s protectors for a reason.
During their short conversation, the lights above the litter had begun humming with their magic, finally illuminating the entire hall. Just ahead of the litter, part of the wall was pushed outward and slid to the side, a Changeling emerging from within the hidden room. It’s shocking blue eyes surveyed them questioningly, the brows gradually dropping into a confused scowl. “Are you Queen Chrysalis” the Changeling asked, jerking Luna’s eyes wide. She spoke with the voice of a young, innocent filly: it was nothing like what Luna had expected. Then again, now that Luna eyed her more closely, the Changeling was definitely far smaller than those that had invaded Canterlot.
“No, We are afraid we art not Chrysalis young one,” Luna said to the creature softly, lowering her head and smiling like she remembered Celestia would when she was young. “We doth know her to be safe, though,” Luna continued. The Changeling’s face brightened, a toothy smile revealing one fang having grown in and one just beginning to show.
“Your Majesty, this could be a trick,” Spearhead cautioned, staying just behind Luna as the princess approached the Changeling child. Luna heard him, but her thoughts were beginning to fall into disarray at the sight of this Changeling filly. The instinctual part of her insisted she listen to Spearhead, stop edging closer to the foal. The Changelings were a greedy, manipulative breed, and they would not be above such trickery to garner love from a pony. But a different side of her, the side that had seen foals and felt when they were genuinely happy, was appalled. That side was appalled that Aurora had sunk so low as to take away this filly’s queen—Changeling or not—and had forced her into servitude. Her memories of Aurora struggled to reconcile this: there had to be a reason for it. Perhaps her control was blanketing and she could not distinguish between foal and adult pony, mare and stallion. But even then, if she had sent one lone Changeling to man the pulley system for the litter, she must have been able to see that said Changeling was only a filly.
“Your Majesty?” Spearhead asked, his tone worried. Luna snapped out of her reverie, glancing down to see she had taken a seat on the floor, the filly in her lap, and her hooves comfortingly running through the filly’s dirty snow mane.
Before Luna could respond, a low growl came from deep within the Changeling’s chest, followed by a furious voice not her own. “Get. Back. To. Quarters!” the filly spoke harshly. Luna struggled up in a moment of fright, dumping the Changeling unceremoniously onto the floor.
“What was that?” Luna asked Spearhead, her heart still beating faster than it had for some time. The stallion would have replied, but was stopped when the filly Changeling burst into sobbing wails and tears.
“Dang,” he swore.
“Hush, hush,” Luna did her best to console the filly. “We art sorry. Thou frightened us is all.” The filly said nothing, continuing to sob uncontrollably. Luna would have picked her up again had her attention not been diverted by uneven hoof steps coming from the spiral stairwell at the end of the hall. She lifted her head to its full height, curious as to the source of the sounds. Beside her, Spearhead groaned again, having tried to access his magic for the second time since coming into the dampening fields and now suffering from washing physical weakness. The clopping of hooves became steadily louder and more uneven, until they were stopped, replaced by the deep thudding of a pony falling down several steps. Aurora followed shortly thereafter, falling into the hall with a breathless wince. She struggled to lift herself up, but her legs refused to obey, shaking violently before collapsing. Her mane was as unkempt as always, but the flowing tail Luna remembered was also bedraggled. She lay sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, eyes closed and breathing heavily, for a minute or so, in which time Luna scooped the crying Changeling filly with her wing. Nestled against Luna’s soft feathers, the filly quickly calmed into hiccupping.
When Aurora finally did stand back up, she stumbled dizzily from side to side, flaring out her wings to keep her balance. “Luna,” she said, not a note of weariness in her voice.
“Thou hast some explaining to do,” Luna glared at her old friend.
“Do I?” Aurora asked, taking stumbling steps toward Luna and Spearhead. “Inky Jay informed me of your desire to negotiate, but I would have thought Twilight Sparkle would have explained everything that has transpired thus far.”
“She did. But that is not what I meant exactly,” Luna replied, making a conscious effort to not use her traditional speech. Aurora had hated it, even in the times when it had been prevalent and even though she sounded quite cultured when using it. Though Luna herself felt uncomfortable using a less refined form of speaking, the need for Aurora’s cooperation was far more important. “This is a filly Aurora!” Luna said, not able to contain her vehemence. “Changeling or not, it is still a filly! What were you thinking?”
“A mistake perhaps,” Aurora said, inhaling with effort, “but not a serious one.”
“ ‘Not a serious one’?!” Luna repeated incredulously. “I didn’t want to see you again with accusations ready and waiting, but this is a filly!”
“So you keep saying,” Aurora said unconcernedly. “And yet you would not argue against me using the Changeling adults. It really is a shame to see you sucked into Celestia’s encompassing anarchy. Of all ponies, you used to understand my vision most.”
“And I still do Aurora,” Luna replied earnestly. “I see the need for change, and I think your Devices have the best potential to finally wipe away any remaining traces of tribal tension. But, but... When you are committing errors like putting a filly to work and being barely able to stand, I have to ask if you are going about this the right way.”
“My way is the only way,” Aurora said pointedly, “and before you accuse me of being egotistical, may I remind you that no other viable option has presented itself.”
“If you think you are able to walk,” Luna chose not to answer immediately, “would you mind leading us to a place where we may sit to discuss the situation.”
Aurora smiled, saying, “You always were clever about giving yourself time to think. No, my duties about the ship make it difficult to even speak with you, much less walk. No, instead, I will entrust you with taking us there.” Her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing becoming momentarily more frantic. In an instant, Aurora returned to normal, and Luna did not even have to ask what she had done. The void that had been denying her access to her magic had faded. “You are the only pony I can trust aside from Inky Jay,” Aurora said solemnly to Luna. “I judge by your actions thus far that you wish my return to Equestria to be as complete as I do, and thus, that you will refrain from capturing me. The room is on the third deck, with a round table surrounded by four brass and wood chairs.”
“Thank you Aurora,” Luna said, grateful that Aurora still held onto some of their friendship. “My servant and I will not betray your trust.”
“As Her Majesty commands me, so will I do,” Spearhead agreed gruffly. Luna’s horn sang as the aura around it coalesced, the bright light upon its tip being the last the three saw before reappearing in the exact room Aurora had indicated. They took their seats silently, the shaking in Aurora’s hooves making it more difficult for her.
“So Aurora,” Luna began, adjusting her wing when the Changeling filly shifted in her sleep, “I think it is important that we tackle the small things before we move onto the larger parts. That was always your philosophy yes?”
“Don’t try to turn my own words against me,” Aurora said good-naturedly, “but yes, your logic is sound.”
“This filly. Why?” Luna asked simply.
“The Devices allowing me to control all the Changelings aboard this ship are arranged in a rudimentary setup that would take several years to do properly,” Aurora explained. “The strain on my mind is why it is required you see me in such a deplorable state. Were I not occupied keeping them from surrounding me protectively, I would appear as my normal self. I picked a Changeling at random to bring you aboard. They are all supposed to be adult warriors, but that was obviously a lie.” She said the last words scathingly and Luna had to operate every last skill she had in dealing with nobles to not reveal she knew of the botched arrangement between Aurora and Chrysalis.
“So it was a mistake,” Luna said. “That is fine, I understand.”
“A mistake it may have been, but it was not mine,” Aurora corrected. “I will not take responsibility for the mistakes of the Changelings.”
“Well, now my mind is a little more at ease,” Luna replied neutrally. “Shall we move onto the actual negotiation?”
“Nothing is stopping you,” Aurora said tonelessly. “I already know my stance, and Celestia’s.”
“Twilight Sparkle asked you to reveal the Changelings and lower the defensive field,” Luna began. “I know you refused to lower the field and Spearhead and I understand your position on that. I will not pressure you there. However, Twilight Sparkle was kind enough to elaborate on why she made those demands.”
“I should have known,” Aurora scoffed. “She has inherited Celestia’s sense of superiority despite how well she hides it. I expressly stated she was not to reveal anything beyond Latency.”
“Aurora,” Luna spoke firmly, asserting that power that only a monarch’s voice could carry, “she could not help but explain about your Elements. No harm has been done, as you would have had to explain them to me in time if she had not. Besides, I want us to focus the negotiation around the completion of your Elements project.”
“How so?” Aurora asked cautiously.
“Twilight Sparkle has already agreed to spread the word about Latency,” Luna said. “At least a few ponies will come to you for the procedure, and once others see the results, they are bound to be clamoring for it. If you will reveal the Changelings then, ponies will be able to see that they are not monsters: that they helped you succeed in bringing Ascension to them. And, by showing the ponies the Changelings, Twilight Sparkle and the other bearers will assist in finishing your project.”
“You always were a joy to be around Luna, even when you were depressed,” Aurora chuckled at Luna’s earnestness. “I like that in you. It made you a better ruler, for your optimism meant that you would only see the true problems and not be caught up in the pointless debates of the royalty. I can see quite plainly that even if you do not agree wholeheartedly with my vision for reasons you may not even know, you see no harm in my continued work. You actually are interested in where it will take Equestrian society. Like I always did, I tip my horn to you for that.
“But you have yet to explain to me where your sister fits into all of this. She may have given you control of the negotiations, but what if she is dissatisfied with the arrangement? Aside from your word, what reason do I have to assume that she will not rush to clap my hooves in irons the first chance that opens to her.”
“Equestria is a diarchy, as it was before my Fall,” Luna replied. “My sister and I rule equally. There must be something fundamentally wrong with one of our decisions for the other to overrule her. One thousand years was long enough a sentence for me, the worst result of the experiment. Why should it not be for you?”
“Because, Luna, if anything, I have grown more in that which I was banished for,” Aurora said, impassioned. “Celestia feared me then, why should that not have increased now?” Luna was silent. Aurora was absolutely right. Celestia would need real proof: proof that Aurora was no longer a threat. Certainly flying a ship larger than most seafaring vessels over Ponyville and locking it away from the outside world was not something that would encourage Celestia to allow her freedom. But just as true was Aurora’s misperception of where Celestia’s fear lay.
“My sister is not afraid of you Aurora,” Luna said. “She is afraid that your ideas will spread anarchy. And I will admit, the thought frightens me as well. You want to freely gift everypony in Equestria the Ascension procedure and you want to break the tradition of the Elements of Harmony. Why would we not fear anarchy? If there were some way to regulate it all, I am sure my sister would not be averse to seeing your skills used to benefit Equestria.”
“Regulation is inequality’s way of masquerading as protection when it is in fact the killer,” Aurora said flatly. “The only way I would even consider the regulation of the spread of Devices and Ascension clinics would be if I were in complete control of the regulation.”
“As you are now,” Luna sighed.
“True, but I would not be unwilling to take your advice,” Aurora pointed out, putting just enough emphasis on ‘your’ for Luna to catch the meaning.
“You are not open to any other possibilities?” Luna asked, hoping against hope.
“Not any you would accept,” Aurora said plainly.
“It could work,” Luna pondered, a hoof tapping beneath the table. “It would mean creating a whole new department, but I do not see a scenario where we would not need to do such a thing anyway. Tia will have to be placated in other ways as well. The best way would be to restrict your study on certain spells.”
“If you refer to those pointlessly barbaric spells invented by sadistic warlords,” Aurora said with contempt, “then it is a promise I will not have any difficulty swearing.”
“That should do,” Luna agreed. “You should give me some more time to work out the details, but this looks as though things will work out.”
“Be careful about getting too far ahead of yourself Luna,” Aurora warned. “There is much that must precede any formal cooperation, and any number of these ignoramuses with sufficient sway may change things drastically. You may want to imagine your subjects as the epitome of harmony, but they are so far beneath it, many of them will actively seek to avoid it, as some have already.”
“Do not demean them Aurora,” Luna chastened her. “You were one of them once.”
“Yes, but unlike them, I rose,” Aurora retorted. “Unless pushed, they would be content to live their whole lives at a fraction of their potential.”
“And that is their choice,” Luna said, rather more forcefully than she meant. Old memories were welling up: memories of multiple arguments they had had over this very topic before Luna’s transformation. “It is of the greatest commendability that you would seek to help lift them up, but some simply do not want it.”
“So even after the war, your imprisonment on the moon and return among a new kind of society, you still hold the same view,” Aurora said, shaking her head in mild disbelief.
“Until we meet again then, on happier and more optimistic terms,” Luna said, standing from her chair, Spearhead following suit.
“Until then,” Aurora replied. “And Luna, it truly was good for me to see you again as I ought to have remembered you.”
“You should retire to a bed Aurora,” Luna said as she prepared to teleport from the ship directly into Twilight’s library. “Sleep would do you wonders.”
“I cannot,” Aurora said simply, “though there is something I can fall back upon during the procedures.”
“Keep strong,” Luna said, her magic flaring before winking her and Spearhead out of the vessel. Both of them had forgotten about a little Changeling nestled in Luna’s wing.
______________________________________________________________________________
“According to my understanding, the procedures will begin after one o’clock PM,” Inky’s voice scratched out to the crowd of Ponyvillians beneath the second level balcony of the Ponyville Library. “Lady Aurora and myself will organize all those wishing to participate, but be sure to be prompt in your arrival.” While Inky seemed purposefully oblivious to the predominantly scowling faces, Twilight both took notice of them and where they were not. It was odd, she considered, that those ponies approving and even eager for the prospect of Ascension were bundled together. Yet, they did not all find one another. Smaller, tight knit groups of ponies could be seen holding onto Inky’s ever word of instruction for how they were to conduct themselves before, during, and after the procedure. Those that had by now settled into their despisement of Aurora and all things associated with her, continuously cast furtive glances at her while Inky spoke.
She had done just as Chrysalis had instructed, altering inflection here, or changing her tone there, and she had thought she had done well. As could be seen now, ponies had become rather set in their opinions by the time Inky had begun to speak; and Twilight was not a little proud that most ponies felt as averse to the process as she did. In all, things were going according to plan, or at least according to half the plan. What was happening between Princess Luna and Aurora was an unknown factor, but Twilight trusted the Night Princess’s confidence and relationship with Aurora to meet with success.
“What’s with the Princess’s armies, huh!?” an enraged voice spouted from the crowd, followed murmurs of agreement. “The ‘Lady’ think she can stop our Princesses!? She think hidin’ behind a shield’s gonna do any good?! Bah! She can go to Tartarus!” His last statement was met not with simple mutterings of affirmation, but rather supportive outcries. Inwardly, Twilight was glad she had had the foresight to keep up her shield around the tree.
“I suppose it is a hint of a threat,” Inky replied, superiorly thoughtful. “Yes, yes, and of course, anypony may go to Tartarus if they so wish it.”
“You better be glad Twilight Sparkle’s protecting you colt!” a mare’s voice called out. “Otherwise I would give you a beating you wouldn’t ever forget!”
“I have said what I came here to say,” Inky said. “To continue a discourse with you rabble would be as futile as your resistance to this inevitable change.” Without a second glance back to the now rage bitten ponies, Inky silkily turned back into the library’s inside.
“Calm down everypony!” Twilight waved a hoof over the crowd, attempting to catch their attention. “Everypony, look this way!” It was useless. Having unleashed the monster that was the crowd’s divided emotions, Inky had rendered them all a mass of babbling noise. Twilight’s lone voice, no matter how assertive or elevated would do little to penetrate the cacophony building below her. With an aggravated sigh, she too turned back inside her home, snapping the window/door shut.
“You know, you may not like any of us, but you could at least try to use some tact,” Twilight chastised Inky, following him down onto the main floor.
“Speaking of me not ‘liking’ the lot of you makes me sound juvenile,” Inky replied. “Disapproval is a more apt description. And tact is just a beautified form of lying. I speak the truth, or I lie and I do not try to hide either behind some pathetic veneer.”
“Well, I don’t care what the hay it was you did. All I care about is the fact that you just caused a mob outside... again” Rainbow Dash said, aggravated as she hovered above the pair. “So just take your stinkin’ high an’ mighty attitude and leave.”
“Gladly,” Inky glowered at her before asking Twilight, “There is a back entrance to this library yes?”
“Duh,” Rainbow answered first, promptly throwing open a window.
“I’ll take it,” Inky said, to a surprised Rainbow and Twilight. “While I have no doubt that all of you would not mind in the slightest if I were attacked by the mob, I would prefer to depart in a manner that allowed me to keep my wings whole.”
“Hopefully we won’t have to see you again,” Rainbow Dash grumbled as she all but slammed the window shut after Inky’s tail had rocketed behind the rest of him into the Ponyville skies.
“Not if Aurora decides to set up her labs and facilities in Ponyville,” Twilight pointed out, doing her best not to sound pessimistic. “Which she probably will if Princess Luna can come to an agreement with her. We’re close enough to Canterlot that the Princesses can come and go, but far enough away that Aurora won’t have to deal with the royalty.”
“Thanks for busting my bubble Twi,” Rainbow replied flatly as Rarity, Spike, and Changeling-form Chrysalis emerged from the kitchen.
“But rubies are even more rare than diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds!” Rarity was protesting to Chrysalis.
“Maybe, but a gem that is both beautiful and numerous can actually be used and appreciated by more than just a few ponies or Changelings,” the queen rebutted.
“Rubies taste better than emeralds,” Spike inserted, siding with Rarity and speaking as if his opinion on a gem’s taste was the ultimate deciding factor.
“Only dragons think of their stomachs when they see a gem,” Chrysalis replied to him venomously. “A Changeling sees its true beauty.”
“I beg to differ!” Rarity exclaimed as if offended. “Ponies are truer judges of a gem’s quality.” And so the argument relapsed, both Changeling and pony taking seats at a reading table, Rarity floating a book down from a shelf to assist her in proving her side.
“They’ve been going at it like that since you and Inky went outside,” Spike said to Twilight, moaning as he slumped against the statue in the center of the room. “And they just keep saying the same things over and over again about different gems.”
“Ten bits says Cheese-legs has threatened to eat Rarity at least three times,” Rainbow guessed.
“Hoof over the bits,” Spike said happily, frowning upon realizing Rainbow did not have the bits at hoof. “She hasn’t even gotten angry. If you had closed your eyes in there, you would’ve thought there were two Rarity’s talking. Both of them were quoting gem cutters and miners and everything. It was ridiculous.”
“I didn’t think Chrysalis of all Changelings would be knowledgeable about gems,” Twilight said, now watching the two more curiously.
______________________________________________________________________________
“Hey Twilight, you have any other books by the mare who writes Daring Do?” Rainbow asked casually when Twilight, with nothing better to do while waiting for Princess Luna’s return, began doing her daily check to be sure all of the books were organized properly.
“Plume doesn’t write much outside of the series,” Twilight pondered, trotting lightly over to the fiction section, “but if I remember right—”
“TWILIGHT! CHRYSALIS!” Applejack’s voice hollered from above, a mix of horror and confusion in her voice. “GET UP HERE NOW!”
“IT IS URGENT, TWILIGHT SPARKLE!” boomed Luna in the Royal Canterlot Voice, shaking the sides of the library.
“The Princess is back!” Twilight started, not needing to even motion to every other pony to follow her hurried pace up the stairs. She burst into the upper room, which while officially supposed to be the guest bedroom, was more like Twilight’s extended catch-all closet. Twilight’s eyes scanned the room in one clean sweep, looking for anything that might warrant the apprehension in Applejack and Princess Luna’s voices. The room was still full of its usual clutter, though much of it had been shoved to the walls by Applejack and Fluttershy to make room for a checkers board in the middle of the floor. Those two self-same ponies were at opposite ends of the room. Applejack stood beside the Princess and Spearhead, both mares’ faces contorted in worried concentration. Spearhead was thinking as well, Twilight guessed, but his near perpetual state of grim determination was hard to read accurately.
All the same, the three were gazing pointedly at Fluttershy, who was lying on the floor animatedly playing peek-a-boo with... a Changeling. A Changeling filly. Everything became a jumbled mess for Twilight at the same moment for everypony else it seemed, save Spike who was still doing his best to jump up to see. She heard Rainbow shake her head vigorously, trying to be sure her eyes were not playing tricks on her. Rarity was only able to stutter with single syllables, vocalizing Twilight’s muddled thoughts.
Only Chrysalis took any action, and it was perhaps the most appropriate along with Fluttershy’s. “Out of the way!” she screamed, the desperation in her voice beyond that which Twilight had ever heard. The filly’s head snapped away from Fluttershy’s face with the first sound of Chrysalis’s voice, squealing in sheer delight upon seeing her. The filly stretched out her little forehooves, giggling gleefully as Chrysalis pulled her into a tight, one legged embrace. The queen sighed contentedly as the filly nuzzled her. The entire scene was heartwarming, more so than Twilight had thought Chrysalis would show a single one of her subjects. For Twilight in particular, she was reminded of how her mother— No, the odds of that were slim to none, and Chrysalis had never mentioned anything like that: not that she would have. But the more she thought about it, the way the filly was overjoyed to see Chrysalis, the near manic way Chrysalis had rushed to hold her. As far flung as the chances were, the facts were all pointing to one thing: Queen Chrysalis’s daughter had been brought into Twilight’s guest bedroom.
“H-h-how?” the queen stammered, turning to Luna with the filly still in her leg’s grip. “You could not have known. Even Aurora Streak did not know. Only two of my advisors were aware. And how did you sneak in here so easily?”
“We thinketh it good to answereth the simplest first,” Luna breathed heavily. “There is much to tell. Cometh inside all.” They settled themselves in the now cramped room, Spike attempting to say something about the Changeling filly before being silenced by an insisting glare from Twilight. “To answereth thy easiest question Chrysalis,” Luna began, “Aurora allowed us to teleport directly from there to here. She is severely weakened. We hath seen her in such a state before. It is a product of managing too many things at once. She needed our help to move to her place of negotiation.”
“Did everything go all right Princess?” Rarity asked, holding off her intrigue about the filly for the more important matter.
“Thou shouldst ask Spearhead, Miss Rarity,” Luna replied. “We believeth things to be moving apace as we wisheth, but we mighteth be somewhat biased, we wilt admit.”
Rarity inclined a questioning nod to Spearhead, the stallion grunting before saying, “She was willing to go along with our proposal. I’ve never in my entire career seen somepony like her with all the chips in hoof, and yet be willing to work with us. There’s just one problem.”
“You have not arranged for my people’s release,” Chrysalis growled, low and dangerously knowing.
“We were unable to bringeth it up directly,” Luna acquiesced, “but we hath hope that release wilt cometh to them when she hath no need of them. She wilt undoubtedly crave more passionate workers like Inky Jay. Besides, much of her weakness cometh from controlling them. She wilt rid herself of them in time, most assuredly.”
“Your Majesty,” Spearhead addressed Luna cautiously, “what you’re talking about is true, but it’s not what I was going to say.”
“Oh,” Luna said, surprised, “what else did thou notice?”
“In all my years as a military commander,” Spearhead replied, “I’ve never seen a foe so intent on hiding something. Now trust me, there’s not a shred of evidence in my favour. If anything, all the evidence is against me; but I’m trusting my gut here. There’s something she knows that she’s not telling us.”
“I do not require evidence to trust your instinct,” Chrysalis said cooly, levitating the now sleeping filly onto her back. “Aurora Streak will lie, back-stab, and subjugate to get what she wants.”
“Have you got any idea what she might be hiding?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“Her constructed Elements of Harmony,” Spreahead grunted promptly. “She was angry that Miss Sparkle told us about them; more so than I think she should have been given the circumstances. It’s my experience that when somepony doesn’t want many ponies knowing something, it means they don’t want too many minds thinking about it and possibly discovering a secret.”
“There is not exactly anything secret about the Elements, be they the original forms or her own,” Luna said, frowning.
“I agree with the Princess,” Twilight said. “Not that I doubt that Aurora is hiding something,” she rapidly affirmed after Chrysalis’s eyes narrowed in her direction. “I just don’t think the Elements are the source. I mean, she let me see them. If there were anything secret about them, I don’t think she would have so freely shown them to me.”
“Uh, we can’ really be speculatin’ none ‘bout this ‘til later,” Applejack put in, her glances having perpetually moved to the Changeling filly the entire time. “So wassup with this here filly Chrysalis? Don’ seem smart to me ta be bringin’ a filly ‘round on a mission like this.”
“You’re avoiding the real question filly,” Spearhead said blankly. “Why’d you bring your foal along, Queen?”
“Who said anything about the Changeling being the queen’s daughter?” Pinkie asked, her tone curious as to how everypony else seemed to have come to that conclusion.
“Pinkie dear,” Rarity said, “I would expect you of all ponies to be able to see the differences in the ways ponies act toward family, friends, and the like.”
“She was just happy and surprised,” Pinkie said plainly, or as plain as was possible for Pinkie. “I think everypony’s jumping to conclusions.”
Twilight was opening her mouth to explain her more reasoned approach for whatever good it would do when Chrysalis spoke up, snapping, “Don’t talk about me, my emotions, or Lacewing as if we were just objects.” Settling down somewhat at their guilty expressions, she continued. “But yes, Lacewing is my daughter, my third in fact. I reserve my right to explain no more. You should all just be content to know that by bringing her here, I feel more at ease than I have since stepping foot on Aurora’s cursed ship.”
“Meaning you aren’t so hay-bent on trying to kill me,” Rainbow said flatly. Everypony save Chrysalis and Rainbow herself winced as the two stared intently at one another for an uncomfortably long time.
A collective but silent (Pinkie Pie excluded) sigh of relief swept around the room when Chrysalis acquiesced, “Yes. But how did you find her Luna?”
“She had been charged with manning the crank system which allowed us and Spearhead into the vessel,” Luna replied. “She hath been treated as all others, rather than as a filly. We were appalled at Aurora and informed her of her error. However, she hath not seen any crime, and we feeleth unfortunately certain that her moral compass, as the say, hath degenerated even further than last we had spoken.”
“As if we needed somepony to tell us that...” Rainbow muttered.
“While we wouldst wish it otherwise and believeth strongly that we canst assureth peace, we canst only begin to imagine what Aurora Streak wouldst do shouldst she feeleth threatened,” Luna said gravely. “As things standeth, our plan for Ponyville’s freedom hath been accepted by Aurora. We only imploreth all here that thou doeth thy utmost to preserveth the delicate balance so far created.”
“Of course Princess,” Twilight inclined her head reverently with additional nods and murmurs of assent from her friends and Spike.
“Chrysalis?” Luna asked, unsure. “Thou and thy brood art as crucial to this resolution as any of us, perhaps even more so.”
“You have brought my daughter back to me,” Chrysalis answered, “and by your account, have saved her life.” Luna was about to protest that she implied nothing of the kind, but Chrysalis continued sharply, “By doing so, you have cleared the name of Rainbow Dash. A life for a life, though not in the way I had thought it would happen. My other subjects, however, are still imprisoned under Aurora’s false control, and it would be a disgrace to me both as a Changeling and as queen to abandon them.”
“Then we art settled and must hence alloweth time to taketh us where it willt,” Luna said. Everypony else nodded, a small span of awkward silence following before Applejack and Fluttershy resumed their game of checkers. Chrysalis took her leave with her still sound asleep daughter, Pinkie Pie following and whispering eager questions about Changeling foals. Twilight followed them out, hearing Chrysalis whisper back in response but not discerning what exactly she said. Twilight herself was joined by Rainbow, who again asked her for some other book by the famous Plume. Twilight did not respond at first, searching as she was for a reliable quill and ink and paper requested by Princess Luna. Oddly, she had asked for a quill good for both sketching and writing, straining the limits of Twilight’s extensive collection. “Oh, sorry Rainbow,” she said when the exact writing utensil she had in mind eluded her for longer than expected. “You should be able to find any of Plume’s other short stories next to the Daring Do books. I know you know where those are.”
“You said Plume was her name,” Rainbow asked.
“Mm-hm. Ah-ha!” Twilight replied before her exclamation at finding the quill. Rainbow lazily hovered over to the shelf while Twilight returned to the upper room. Princess Luna was gracefully thankful for Twilight having the correct items and set about recording something on the paper. Twilight thought about taking to some reading herself with Rainbow Dash, but instead settled for watching Fluttershy and Applejack’s checker game with Spearhead while Rarity ranted to a drowsy Spike about Chrysalis’s complete lack of understanding about the value of gems.
All accounted for, it was a measure of peace and relaxation like what Twilight experienced on weekend picnics with her friends. And yet, something about the atmosphere was inexplicably wrong. At first, she wanted to attribute the feeling of wrongness to the ship outside: the dull whine and subtle glow of the energy field. But the more she thought about it, the more she became convinced her unease was coming from something else. It was an alien sensation, one she could not trace back to any one source but that was just as potent. A shiver ran down her spine the more intensely she thought about it, and with that shiver came frightening revelation. She had felt it before, the day she had arrived in Ponyville. The day before Nightmare Moon’s return. It was undeniably that feeling of silence that precedes a momentous explosion of thunder. Twilight Sparkle shoved away her concentration on the aura, turning to that trust in the Princesses she always held onto when the calm before the storm became so plain.