Darkened Shores

by Silver Flare


26: Chaos

Lyra Heartstrings staggered down the streets of Canterlot, alone. She ran as hard as she could until her legs began to shake, then she trotted unsteadily. She skirted around chunks of levitating pavement and streetlamps that continuously bowed to her in a playful manner, trying to find her way to the edge of the shield. In her desperation, Lyra hoped that maybe she could signal someone on the outside, tell them that Canterlot had fallen. Discord and Queen Chrysalis? And she was trapped in Canterlot with both of them? Perhaps now they would send word to Celestia, have her return from whatever mission she was on. Surely it couldn't be worse than this. Why didn't I leave with Bon Bon? What was I trying to prove? She couldn't even remember anymore.

Lyra crossed the street, leaping over a stream gouged at an angle through the cobblestones to stay far away from a trio of well-armed members of the guard. She tried hard not to notice that the guards were completely incapacitated by violent sneezing fits where a mixture of confetti and glitter shot out of their muzzles with every convulsion. She also tried not to notice the stream ran uphill. She kept her head down as she hoofed past a butter-yellow pegasus with a soft pink mane and dead eyes as they crossed paths.

She didn't want to know what was happening around her. She just wanted it to end, like the road she was running on. Looking up, Lyra found that she'd made it. The purple dome scooped out of the dark sky and buried itself into the ground just ahead. From the outside, slowly-shifting bands of light caressed, held and supported the substance of the shield itself. The beautiful panoply of colors only seemed to mock Lyra's distress. She stumbled to a stop, reared onto her hind legs and plastered herself against the curve of the dome.

She stopped as though she'd hit a wall, an uncomfortable vibration began trilling up to her elbows, reminding her forcefully of that time she'd touched a Pone de Graff generator in grade school. She half-expected her mane to stand on end. She ignored the sensation as she squinted hard, trying to make out shapes beyond the barrier.

Lyra spotted store fronts lining either side of the cobbled street. Beyond that were the low stone walls marking the edge of the city. There! Off to the side was a cluster of unicorns. Students from the university, probably. And one of them was focused on projecting a beam of light through a nearby crystal, splashing the refracted spectrum across the outside of the shield. But that was it. Oh, thank the sun. No floating buildings, no living statues, no random rivers. . . No obvious chaos at all.

The ponies noticed her immediately, gesturing in her direction and talking amongst themselves. One of them cantered up to her, her face lined with concern and outright fear. She spoke, and while no sound reached her, Lyra thought she made out the words Are you okay?

There was nothing they could do for her. They were enacting the one plan that had any chance whatsoever of containing Discord's madness, and there was no room in that plan for one mare's distress. She had intended to retain a hold on rationality, but she just couldn't stop herself. “Help us!” She screamed loud enough to make her own ears ring. “Please! In Celestia's name, help us!”

Something hit her in the flank and Lyra yelped and spun, tangling her hooves in surprise and stumbling to the ground in her haste to see what had grabbed her attention. Her eyes focused on a small foam dart, the kind foals might play with in a park or schoolyard. The sight of the harmless missile filled Lyra with a completely unreasonable dread. She tore her gaze upward to find a cluster of plush ponies, bears, wildcats, even a large stuffed timber wolf walking towards her. And they were all armed: foam crossbows and disc-launchers and squirt toys hopefully filled with water and. . . one of them seemed to be carrying a large foam axe.

The harmless nature of the armament did nothing to allay Lyra's terror. When she turned and bolted between the closest pair of buildings, she was actually running from their soulless black button eyes. Something about them spoke to a deep foalhood fear that Lyra could scarcely remember. The alley was dark, but she could see the glow of lights at the far end, urging her on. She ran hard, hoping to find some kind of hiding place the next street over.

She'd been deceived. The harmonic shield curved towards the edge of the far building as it opened into the next street, cutting off her exit. As she pushed herself between the cold brick and the humming shield, she only managed to squeeze one hoof through the gap into the space beyond. She couldn't possibly fit through. Gasping ragged breaths, she turned around. The alley had been crowded with the little demon toys, but they were no longer chasing her. They had clustered around the yellow pegasus she'd seen earlier, and they were fighting in the mouth of the alley. While the stuffed animals swung foam weapons and fired their foam arrows, the suddenly familiar pony stomped them flat with her hooves, spun and kicked and flipped through the air, occasionally pausing to rip some fluffy thing limb from limb with a cold ferocity. Isn't she from Ponyville?

Lyra gathered the shreds of courage still remaining to her and charged, lifting a plush pony into the air with her magical field and throwing it into the gutter. She reared next to a standing teddy bear and brought her hooves down, one hoof cracking the barrel of a squirt toy with a loud snap, and the other felt no impact at all as she squashed the soft, cute face into the cement. The plush arms wrapped around her foreleg and Lyra shuddered, backpedaling swiftly away.

The slightly smooshed bear pulled itself to its feet and toddled towards her, arms outstretched. She was far too afraid to actually move. Lyra felt every muscle tense in her body, as though she were having some sort of seizure. She wanted to fly apart in every direction at once. That is, until the pegasus knocked the thing onto its back, pinned its body and, with the sound of shredding fabric, pulled its head off with her teeth.

She spat the head over her shoulder and offered Lyra a hoof. Lyra tried to shake off the sensation of her skin actually crawling, and she accepted the offered limb. Still breathing hard, she nevertheless cocked her head a little and asked, “Fluttershy? Is that you?”

The pegasus opened her mouth to reply, but she didn't speak. Instead, she opened her mouth wider, and wider, and wider, stretching the corners of her mouth impossibly far. Then, with a hiss of steam, her jaw snapped all the way back, revealing a trio of striped rodents sitting before tiny glowing screens. The one in the central seat stood, and spoke in a squeaky voice. “My name is Lickens Snoodle, and I seek the Heart of the Sciuridae Empire! Tell me horse! Where might I find the acorn of supreme glory?!”

A breathy scream barely made any noise as it caught Lyra on the inhale. She tried to pull away, but the construct before her kept her hoof in an iron grip. The chipmunk before her rolled its eyes and tapped a few buttons. Golden wings spread on either side of the mare, and the edge of each feather looked razor-sharp, as though they were made of metal. “Reveal the location of the sacred acorn and we shall let you live!”

The staccato fall of hooves on cobblestones accompanied the words, and Lyra glanced behind her in time to see a celestial unicorn guard in full armor galloping towards them with a spear affixed to his shoulder in joust position. He jumped into the air, kicked off of a floating chunk of ground and leaped in a graceful arc, the point of his weapon glinting in the streetlamp above.

“Evasive maneuvers!” The chipmunk squeaked, hammering the console before him with tiny paws. The not-pony dropped Lyra's hoof as one of its wings swept in an arc, neatly deflecting the spear's haft. The other wing spun in, aiming for the stallion's neck, but he hunched his shoulder as he landed and the steel feathers glanced off his armor in a shower of sparks. In a swift, oiled motion the not-pony reared and struck the guard across the helmet with a sharp crack, denting the thick metal. The guard staggered, struggling to stay upright. The next blow followed swiftly, but the guard managed to catch the raised hoof in his telekinetic field.

The chipmunk squeaked commands into some kind of headset, and steam burst from its joints as it redoubled its efforts, driving the guard backwards and down onto the cement. The hoof drew closer and closer to his face, until a different, golden field of telekinesis lifted the lead chipmunk out of his seat. “Gah! Set me down!” The guardpony took a moment to catch his breath, and the levitating chipmunk drew a long, slender sword from his hip, slashing it menacingly and uselessly from his position in the air. Lyra kept a firm mental grip on the rodent, afraid of what it might do if it slipped free. “Grey Squirrel!? Is that you? You must know that Mother Rushnut has betrayed you! Give us the acorn or die in your inferior mech! My comrades, use Metal Mare Ray to destroy these fools!”

The not-pony swung back into motion at the same moment the guard tried to speak. “You're all insa-aaaAACHOOOOO!” A thick cloud of glitter and confetti erupted like buckshot from the guard's nose, followed by high-pitched screams of “Augh, my eyes!” and “It stings!” and “Comrades! Status report now!” and “It was a sneak attack! Some new kind of *cough cough* chaff grenade!” The guard shook his head clear and flung himself into a retreat, urging Lyra ahead of him. She didn't need much urging. Together they ran back into the city, twisting down a couple of different streets. When it looked as though they weren't being followed, they ducked into an alcove for the exit of a theater to catch their breath.

Lyra wondered if her heart might just give out, and save her the trouble of all this running around. Within the space of a few seconds, she watched a shrub and a broom have a silent argument, she held her breath as a fluffy pink pony floated by, unable to touch the ground despite her adorable attempts at trying, and a bowl of petunias fell from the sky with a resounding crash. Lyra forced her gaze away from the crazy and studied her companion. The stallion who rescued her had a gray coat and burgundy eyes, and he observed the chaos with a desperate ferocity, as though his inability to protect his city was a bitter pill to swallow.

Lyra was grateful. Deeply grateful to anyone who would charge through this kind of nightmare to help a fellow pony. The sight of his frustrated helplessness struck her heart. “Thanks.” The word barely existed, stuck as it was in her throat. She cleared the obstruction. “Thank you.” That was better. “Thanks for the help.”

He nodded, but he didn't take his eyes off the street.

Lyra took a different approach. “What's your name?”

The guard stallion leveled a frustrated glance at her, but something in his gaze told Lyra that she wasn't the source of his frustration.

The nameless guard stuck his head out of the alcove and in a flash had ducked back in, having clearly seen even more chaos out on the street. He scowled and caught Lyra's eye, nodding towards the door behind them. Lyra nodded in return and fell in behind him as he pulled open the sturdy oak door with his magic.

A wall of pale, thick slime crashed over them both, sweeping the legs out from under the pair and flooding their noses with a sweet vanilla scent as it swept them into the middle of the cobbled street. “Gaaaa-aah!” Lyra screamed, partly in confusion and partly in frustration. As she picked herself up out of the custard, slipping only a little, Lyra began to see the reason for her deep-seated terror. She may have been mostly unhurt, but her hold on her sanity was beginning to slip. Lyra's cheek twitched and she slapped at it, spattering more custard on her face and her mane. She choked down a mad giggle, refusing to let it free.

Her companion noticed them first; a pack of colorful lemurs was sweeping down the street towards them, chittering loudly and bouncing like a kettle full of popcorn. The guard growled. “Go-oaaaCHOO!” He directed a violent sneeze downwards, sparing Lyra's eyes a violent close-up view of colorful confetti. “Hi-iaaaCHOO! Hi-iaaaCHOO! HIDE! . . .” He shouted, and blinked slowly. “ACHOOO!”

Lyra shook her head, unable to bring herself to leave her new friend alone. He'd saved her once already, and while she knew she wasn't brave, Lyra was certain she couldn't live with herself if she abandoned him now.

The swarm of marsupials had. . . were they all wearing little plaid shirts? They had reached the expanding edge of the dessert flood and had bounded in, flinging custard everywhere. The guard pony snarled, and in a flash Lyra found herself flung hard down a side road. She tumbled easily to a stop in time to see the guard gallop off in another direction, leading the chittering horde away.

The mint-green pony's startled, worried, sad expression held for a long moment before crumpling into tears. Alone again, surrounded by rising chaos, and her coat gummed with unlikely dessert filling, Lyra turned and ran. It's a shame there was nowhere to run to.






The majesty of the Canterlot Gardens had been utterly ruined. Even random chaos could find little opportunity to express itself there. Most of the bits of landscape and surrounding shrubbery which had decided to defy gravity had been vaporized in violent magical detonations. Blasted chunks of ground which had begun to morph or deform into other structures were simply blasted again. Even the ponies of the guard and the other random creatures conceived deep within Discord's mind, all of them steered clear of the statue gardens for fear of certain annihilation.

Two figures clashed again and again, sundering air and ground alike with magical concussions. One, Shining Armor, was sheathed in radiant violet energies. The other shone with a sick, pale green. The figures clashed and spun away, dodged and struck, and gave voice to the night which had otherwise turned utterly dark. It was a long time before the violence ended with Shining Armor being struck down. As the dust began to settle, and the sky in the east began to brighten ever so subtly, the green figure fled, leaving devastation in her wake.








The back corner of the abandoned bakery was dark, but not so dark that Lyra couldn't make out the vague outline of the display racks and various baking tools in the pre-dawn light. She'd felt hysterical, so close to losing herself that she'd been afraid to move. So she'd found a corner, curled herself into as small a ball as possible, squeezed her eyes shut and retreated deep within herself. Her panicked, untethered mind had grappled onto the only stable and calming thoughts she could find solace in.

Memories of Bon Bon. Like that time they'd sat down to order at the fancy restaurant around the corner from campus, and it had taken the waiter almost an hour to bring them their waters, so the two of them had ducked out before their orders had arrived and wound up eating fast-food in the rain. Or the time Lyra's parents had combined her graduation party with her brother's going-away party and had failed to invite any of her friends, so Bon Bon put together a second, surprise party the following week that had lasted all night. She loved Bon with all her heart, but it was the calm she needed most of all. Lyra by herself fell into the habit of letting her mind stress and fray around the edges. But with Bon Bon she felt calmer, more centered. She felt that, no matter what, things would always be okay.

She'd been drifting on this feeling for awhile. Enough so that, when the door to the bakery opened, her heart didn't leap clear out of her chest. She heard hoofsteps, but she didn't move even to protect herself. She felt it was more important to maintain the fragile feeling of peace protecting her sanity. Her eyes remained closed as the figure reached the swinging gate, peeked behind the counter, and walked confidently towards her. Lyra's fragile calm assured her that it was her guard companion, and he had found her again. Until a faint sour-grain smell made her nose twitch. She pried one eye open.

Queen Chrysalis loomed above her, terrible and entrancing.

Lyra's pupils shrank, and her calm shattered.

“It is good I have found you.” Her voice buzzed and resonated with menace. “And untouched by the Harbinger of Madness, as well. Get up, musician, there is much work to be done.”

Lyra obeyed, standing up without hurrying. Chrysalis turned to lead the way, and Lyra's horn lit with a golden glow the moment before a sturdy metal baking tray slammed into the back of Chrysalis's skull.

The changeling Queen spun, turning around in a flash. “How dare you!?” She shouted. “I am here. . .” More loud clangs echoed through the shop as a cast iron pan interrupted the changeling's sentence with a series of thunderous blows.

Lyra's eyes burned with ferocity. “I!” Clang. “Am!” Clang. “Not!” Clang. “Your!” Clang. “Puppet!” Clang. “Anymore!” CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The blows were the mightiest Lyra could muster, but Queen Chrysalis simply snarled, and in a flash of green the pan disintegrated into dust. The changeling pounced, coming nose-to-nose with Lyra and filling her vision. “I hadn't taken you to be such a shallow foal! We must. . .” An ear-splitting crash rocked Lyra back from the pile of broken glass and busted wood occupying the space where Chrysalis used to be.

Lyra had lifted an entire bakery display and dropped it atop the changeling Queen. She couldn't even enjoy her small victory, since her head suddenly felt as though it was splitting apart. Lyra grit her teeth together, a moan of pain escaping her sealed lips. Her tail lashed about of its own accord, her body trying to find a way to cope with the sudden hurt. She'd never lifted anything nearly so heavy with her horn before in her life. The sheer pain of overexertion was surprising, and Lyra briefly collapsed against the cabinets next to her.

She heard the rubble shifting, and Lyra gasped as she forced herself to her hooves. Prying her eyes open, she spotted a rolling pin and immediately snatched it up in hooves still sticky with custard. Tottering on two legs, she raised her weapon and waited for Chrysalis's head to emerge, squinting through her massive headache.

Shattered pressboard and metal racks shifted upwards, revealing a black, gnarled horn above a face Lyra still saw in her nightmares. But she didn't strike right away. There was. . . something in the monster's expression that stayed her hoof. There was anger and exasperation, certainly. But there was also something else, something just a little bit sorrowful.

“Stop this! Are you blind?” Chrysalis spat the words. “Had I wanted to harm you, little foal, I would have done so already.” Noticing the sharpness of her tone, Chrysalis eased the threat out of it. “I require your help. As does this city.”

Lyra hadn't meant to start crying. “You took away my mind.” The tears streaked her face anyway. “You. . . I shut myself away. . .” Little sobs had begun to break through her speech. “And then. . . I almost lost. . . the one pony who. . . who-who means the m-most. . .” She teetered on her hooves as her vision blurred.

Chrysalis spoke very slowly, as though to soften the offensive blow of her words. “I am consistently surprised to see such strength alongside such crippling weakness in you ponies.” She said. “But you do not understand. You must set aside your hatred. . .”

“NEVER!” The word was a mess, as much a mess as the pony who'd said it.

“. . .Your hatred if we are to survive this day, your people and mine.”

“Never.” Lyra whispered vehemently. Rearing back, she swung the rolling pin with all of her wobbly strength. The weapon stopped an inch from the Queen's face, suddenly enough to jar Lyra up to the shoulders. A small green field of energy had enveloped the end, locking the object in mid-air as though it had been set in granite.

Chrysalis spoke again, measuring her words. “Fate has played a grand game upon us both, little filly. I took your pathe-grr. . . your will under my command before. And now my life relies upon the freedom of your will.” She sighed and curled her tongue around a glistening fang in idle thought. “Irony is a vicious master, yet we all find ourselves slave to it at some point, don't we?”

Lyra released the rolling pin, falling backwards upon her haunches. She was still trying hard not to cry. “I hate you.” The words were a poor substitute for a heavy frying pan, but they were all she had left to swing at the changeling. “I hate you so much. . .”

“Of course you do.” Chrysalis stood easily, shrugging off the remains of the bakery display as easily as she shrugged off the words. “I do not ask you to forgive me. Far from it. Should we discover unlikely peace between my kin and yours, I am certain you will still hate me for the rest of your days. You have only to set it aside for a while.” She hissed. “Look around you! Hmmmm? Look about this place in which you cower like a roach!”

Still sniffling, Lyra rubbed her eyes clear and gazed about the bakery. It was dimly lit, the undulating streets beyond pale with the coming dawn. There were baguettes which were likely stale, and cookies which were probably still good. A smattering of tables and chairs, a couple of them overturned. Absolutely nothing special.

Chrysalis took Lyra's uncomprehending gaze as some sort of proof. “Yes, exactly! Do you see? The chaos outside has not spread to your sanctuary here. Why do you think that is?” The changeling Queen gestured broadly. “What were you doing before I intruded here? Quickly!”

“I. . .” Lyra stammered, her brain unable to keep up with the oddity of the situation. “I. . . I was thinking about. . .” Was she sharing her deepest feelings with the subject of her worst nightmares? Had she finally snapped? “About Bon Bon. And, um, how calm and peaceful she al. . . always makes me feel.”

“Hmmmmmmmm. . . Of course.” Chrysalis stalked to the front door where she stopped, contemplating the chaos beyond the glass. “Love is not harmony, yet it is one of the strings upon which harmony might be played.” She glanced back at Lyra, a predatory grin spread across her face. “Come filly, hold on to that sense of peace, and let us unmake a god with your memories.”







Lyra's stomach had begun seriously protesting when she had started to consider the evil monster's words. It had twisted into knots when she'd allowed the changeling Queen to touch her. But Lyra didn't actually have to swallow bile until they were airborne. Chrysalis was fast, and the skies had become as chaotic as the ground. They had to swerve around schools of startled fish who were trying to nibble on large floating balls of moss, even though a giant serpent made of clouds kept swishing a fluffy tail through the air, shooing them away. Wil'o'wisps flickered by, emitting jarring chimes like some sort of indecipherable language. A trio of colorful hummingbirds zipped by, pausing long enough to say “Hi Chrissy!” followed by “Bye Chrissy!” in unison before flitting away.

Chrysalis dove and spun, gracefully evading each obstruction that appeared despite clutching Lyra to her chest in an iron-like grip. The alien feel of the jagged chitin pressed against her fur was almost as disturbing as the swirling sea of chaos they spun through. Desperately, Lyra tried to re-capture the calm peace she'd felt earlier. She had no idea how it was supposed to help, but it didn't matter. The feeling had fled. Lyra's pulse thudded in her aching temples and she was as far from feeling centered as she ever had been in her life. She wanted to scream for so many different reasons, but she did not want to throw up. So she clamped her mouth shut and waited for it to end.

“There!” Chrysalis swooped into a steep dive, making Lyra even more grateful she hadn't eaten anything in the last twelve hours. “We must reach the Crystal Princess.” The changeling Queen angled her buzzing wings just before they hit the ground, causing her rough legs to dig further into Lyra's ribs before dropping her to her hooves.

“Now, musician,” Chrysalis continued, “I can protect you from the wandering chaos for a time, but only physically. You must still the chaos in your heart once more. Hurry!”

Lyra promptly staggered over to a nearby bush and threw up bile. The bush, for its part, became offended and waddled away in a huff. She wiped her mouth and spat, turning weary and desperate eyes on her companion. “And just how,” Her voice was raw, as though she'd been screaming all night. “Am I supposed to do that?”

Queen Chrysalis looked as though she might have said something scathing, but then thought better of it. Her face full of disdain, Chrysalis angled her horn and hit Lyra full in the chest with a bright bolt of magic. Lyra lifted her hooves in a futile gesture of self-defense, but she found herself unmoved and unharmed. With another flash, the light vanished, taking with it the thick custard that had worked its way into her coat. The sensation of being clean, it struck Lyra as feeling. . . unexpectedly nice.

“Now, musi. . . Lyra. The Crystal Princess lies upon that bench over there.” Chrysalis gestured behind her with a hoof. “You must reach through her despair, and you must impart your wisdom to her. We need her to unmake Shining Armor's madness, and I fear his shield is already weakening. Go.”

Lyra honestly considered attacking Chrysalis again, if only to express her offense at being told what to do so imperiously. Especially by this uncaring monster. But she couldn't do it. Chrysalis was right about one thing. There was far more at stake than Lyra's own entirely-justified hatred.

Lyra sighed, grappling with her anger for a moment. Then she turned, deliberately leaving the traitorous changeling and her burning desire for revenge behind her. She discovered, once she let go, that she felt cold and hollow. As though she'd somehow justified every terrible thing Chrysalis had done to her by not hating her more.

But she also felt just the tiniest bit free.

There was a gray form stretched out along a bench made of taffy, deforming and squishing the end idly with a hoof. Her mane was disheveled, and Lyra hardly recognized her. “Princess?” Lyra called out timidly.

“Hmph.” Was the only reply.

The sun had risen, obscured as it was by the massive dome of light and pink fluffy clouds which likely weren't clouds at all. “How. . . uh, how are you?”

The alicorn's breathing hitched, as though a sob wanted to escape but it couldn't figure out how.

“Yeah.” Lyra laid down next to the bench, since Cadance had taken up most of it. She didn't know what to say, but the truth couldn't be a bad place to start. “Today kind of sucks.” Silence. I'm not a counselor! I'm not some kind of therapist! What in Celestia's name am I supposed to say? 'Hey, don't be down! Hope is worth hoping for!' Ugh, I sound stupid in my own head!

A wet, squishy feeling started beneath her forelegs. Looking down, Lyra watched as the ground beneath her started to turn into jam. She sighed heavily. Yes, it's a sticky situation Discord. Hah hah hah. Your jokes would be awful if they weren't so weirdly disturbing. And weirdly real.

She said the first thing that came to her head. “I, um, I have a mare friend. We've been together for a couple of years now, and. . . uh, I think I want to marry her.”

“What makes you think she's the one?” Cadance's clear voice startled Lyra, who hadn't really expected a coherent reply. Oh good, I've got her talking. “Why her, over everypony else?”

“That's easy.” Lyra replied confidently. “She's kind and thoughtful, and she never seems to get mad at the same stuff I do. . .”

“So what?” Cadance slumped, as though Lyra'd said something wrong. “Plenty of ponies fit that description.”

“Well, I wasn't finished. Bon Bon is plenty of other things besides that. She's. . . hmm, I lost my train of thought. . .”

Cadance droned on. “There are hundreds of thousands of ponies in Equestria, and beyond. Are you really trying to tell me you found your soul mate among the forty or fifty you've met here in Canterlot?”

“Well. . .” Lyra fumbled. She thought she could see where the Princess was going with this. “Okay, maybe there are lots of ponies out there who might be a match for me, or anypony. That makes logical sense. . .”

Cadance nodded, as though she'd reached the same conclusion hours ago. “So your mare friend isn't the one. Not really.”

Lyra verbally backpedaled. “Wait. I didn't say that.”

“Nopony ever finds the one they're supposed to be with.” Cadance mourned. “We all just make do with who we can find. Love is blinding, and it makes us all into fools.” She turned an earnest gaze upon the mint unicorn. “It doesn't actually mean anything.”

“Hold on.” Lyra was dumbstruck. “Just hold on a second.” It wasn't supposed to go this way. But the Princess was right, wasn't she? How could Bon Bon be the love of her life? The Princess had been awfully generous with her guess. The real number of potential suitors Lyra had met couldn't be more than twelve. Probably less. Had she really settled too early? She started to feel a numb sensation, starting in her chest and spreading outward.

Wait. But she did love Bon, even if it didn't make rational sense. She felt it with her heartstrings, even if her mind could pick it apart with doubts. But she had to fight back, to put these feelings into words that might make sense. She had to try to reach the Princess, or risk being pulled into despair herself.

“You're right.” Lyra said. Cadance locked eyes with her for the first time, and Lyra thought she saw a glimmer of hope deep within them. The Princess still wanted to believe. She took a breath and plunged ahead. “Sure, love makes you feel like there's only one pony in the world for you, even if that can't really be true. But. . .” She faltered. She couldn't quite find the words to express what she felt. She hesitated, and the light behind the Princess's gaze went out. Cadance turned away and went back to playing with the taffy bench.

How would you have said it, Bon? Lyra conjured up an image of the sweet earth pony. She had a look of genuine adoration in her eyes, and Lyra could almost hear her voice, speaking to her. Of course. . .

“But that's exactly how love works!” Lyra exclaimed, surprising even herself. She leaped to her hooves. “It makes perfect sense! There might be thousands of search lights sweeping the sky, but when you look right into one, you are blinded! And suddenly none of the others exist for you! There's only the one, don't you see?! That's how both sides of love are completely true, not just one or the other.” Lyra lowered her voice and bored her eyes into Cadance's, begging her to believe. “Maybe there are lots of ponies you could fall in love with. But you only fell in love with one. And that changes everything.” Lyra sat back on her haunches. “That changes. . . everything.”

The hope was back in the alicorn's eyes, stronger now. “But, love is irrational. It doesn't make sense to feel so strongly about somepony else.”

“It's not supposed to make logical sense.” Lyra countered. “It's supposed to complete us emotionally. It's a part of being alive, perhaps the most important part.”

“But. . .” Cadance was trying to recapture the despair she had felt so strongly just moments ago. Lyra let her try. If she couldn't convince the Princess to walk away from her apathy completely, her victory would be hollow. But Lyra wasn't worried. Not even a little. Everything she said just felt so right she could hardly contain her joy. She felt as though Bon Bon were standing right next to her, holding her and supporting every word. “But. . .” The Princess stammered. “But love can cause so much heartache. So much pain. . .”

“Yes.” Lyra understood this too. “And that's also exactly how it's supposed to work.” She took a bold step by cupping the Princess's cheek in her hoof, feeling a tear running down Cadance's face. “Pain isn't evil. It isn't wrong. It's as much a part of being alive as anything else.” Her vision clouded, and she had to blink a pair of her own tears free to be able to see again. “If we are to open our hearts to joy, then we open our hearts to pain. Just as we have both the sun and the moon guiding our lives, we would be lost without one or the other. Come back to us, Princess. We need you. Shining Armor needs you.”

With that, the Princess began to cry. But they weren't bitter sobs of anguish. They were cleaner, somehow. Full of heavy care and sorrow, but also full of love.

Lyra held her upon the bench now made of proper wood, and she thought of Bon Bon, and how desperately she wished she was holding her, and how badly she needed to tell her everything in her heart.

And for a time, the chaos did not intrude.








When Cadance finally looked up and blinked her bloodshot eyes, they were smiling. And her coat had regained its rose-pink hue. “I haven't known you for very long, Lyra. Yet I feel as though I've known you much longer.”

“Um, thank you?”

“Yes, that was meant as a compliment.” Cadance's kind, melodic voice adorned the morning with motes of calm surety. “Thank you, Lyra. I allowed Discord to lead me from the truth. Thank you for reminding me what's really important in my life.”

“Don't thank me yet, your highness.” Lyra dried her eyes with a fetlock. “We need to find Shining Armor.”

“Yes.” She said with feeling. “Right away.” The Princess stood up, and only then did she notice their surroundings. “This looks. . . This looks like Canterlot! Like normal!” She touched the bench they'd been sitting on the whole time as though it would sag and deform. “Did you do this? Or. . .”

“It's not perfect.” Lyra sighed, indicating the jam covering the undersides of her forelegs. “But yes, I think I might have done something. Or else we did it together. I'm not sure.”

Cadance reached back to touch her mane where Lyra had hugged her, and her hoof came away sticky and red. She rolled her eyes and giggled before returning her attention to the clean sidewalk and bench, her small smile fading back into wonder. “Discord's magic. . . I mean, how. . . how are you resisting it?” They watched together as a bunny rabbit in a tutu and ballet shoes spun and pirouetted across the delineation from plaid, curvy sidewalk to normal concrete, and it immediately dropped to all fours, it's clothing evaporating as it blinked it's large eyes in confusion. Cadance exhaled sharply in wonder, and Lyra smiled.

A buzzing female voice cut between them. “She has discovered harmony in her heart.” Queen Chrysalis prowled into view. “We must learn to do the same.”

Cadance gasped. “You. . .” Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Lyra threw herself between them. “Don't! Trust me, she's not. . .” Lyra turned a crestfallen gaze upon the Princess. “She brought me to you, and she's kept me safe.”

Princess Cadance was having none of it. “What's your game, Chrysalis?”

Chrysalis laughed. “My game? Would you deny my help in this late hour?”

Cadance looked bewildered. “You can't possibly expect us to trust you.”

“And why not?” Chrysalis shot back. “My children cannot thrive underneath Discord's rule either! Are my motivations here still such a mystery?”

“No.” Cadance spoke softly, shaking her head. “They'll thrive under your rule. Is that it?”

“You try my patience, foal.” Chrysalis said. “Any ruler, or indeed any mother, might do the same for their progeny.”

“You tried to destroy my life and steal my husband!”

Queen Chrysalis rolled her eyes in frustration. “It was never about you!” She shouted. “Or your entirely unappealing Shining Armor! Time wears thin, but this much I will explain to you, Princess. The ancient evil that devoured Celestia's homeland across the sea, it devours the world still. Celestia, in fear or ignorance, assumed she could afford to wait until it reached her borders to act. In this, she was terribly wrong. She possessed the most potent magical artifacts known, yet she squirreled them away and did nothing! Action was needed, and Luna was the first to declare it to her face, but Celestia refused to see reason. So, the Princess of the Night rose against Celestia thinking she could change her mind through force, but the all-knowing Princess of the Sun turned the Elements against her sister rather than accept the truth, and as a result broke her connection with them. Only in discovering new bearers would the world once again have hope.

“So, you see.” Chrysalis continued, “When new bearers were found, Celestia hesitated still. I meant to wrest her powers from her and confront the Darkness myself at best, or convince Celestia of her danger at worst. It is with joy I see that Celestia has discovered wisdom, and with Luna's blessing I offered to guard their kingdom in their stead.” Princess Cadance's anger had faded into shock, her eyes unfocused and her ears drooped. Chrysalis drove her point home. “I have never set my sights so low as to covet your marriage, or even Canterlot. You wish to know my 'game,' young filly? My 'game' is surely deeper than you've ever considered.”

Cadance may have found her mouth going dry, as she had a little trouble speaking. “So you're just a good guy, huh?” She asked, doubt lacing her voice. “With everypony's best interest at heart. Is that what we're supposed to believe?”

“Believe what you will.” Chrysalis idly examined a malformed hoof. “I act in my own best interest, as does every living thing.” She paced forward a step, her demeanor suddenly intense. “And speaking of 'every living thing,' shall we stop wasting time? I would hate for your husband to wake without you there. I fear he would tear this city brick from brick in search of you. Or perhaps he would go further, dropping this shield were he somehow convinced you were outside it!”

Lyra spoke up. “I'm afraid she might be right. Discord is the bigger threat here.”

Cadance looked as though she wanted to believe, but she was fighting with her own emotions and ingrained preconceptions. Lyra sympathized deeply. She understood exactly how much it cost her to set aside her own hatred, but she could only imagine what it might cost Princess Cadance. The vile bug had imprisoned her and took her husband as her own. Lyra was, quite frankly, surprised that Cadance hadn't already tried to attack the changeling in a bitter fury.

Instead she surprised Lyra by saying, “Okay. We will work together to stop this madness from spreading. But hear me now.” Cadance stepped forward and jabbed a hoof into the thick exoskeleton covering Chrysalis's chest, producing a hollow sound. “Should we somehow pull off the impossible and best Discord, you will stay in Canterlot and answer to me for your crimes.”

Chrysalis smiled. “You want me to stay? Why Princess, I'm shocked. I would have thought you'd want me packed and shipped to the Badlands without so much as a 'goodbye.'”

“You understand me perfectly.”

“Well,” Chrysalis glanced in the direction of the distant Canterlot Gardens, or what was left of them. “Let's start with the impossible, shall we?”