Luna stared at the body for minutes, watching each time as the changeling’s bones rattled against the stone outcrop. This was the end—here—standing beside her only light, which wept streams of teary blood. Heartbroken, the princess fell to her knees; her eyes remained transfixed on the body, unbelieving towards the power of the creature’s death.
The body rests, but can be returned.
She could revive it, no? She could bring it back again—just as she had before. Luna wrapped her mind around the desire, but could not bear to move from her place. From the nightmare to this point, the whole adventure seemed to be an ethical dilemma. It was going to be about her and her mind—about how she overcomes the poison that flows through her spine every time she tries to sleep.
Never had she seen the true struggle—the battle of life and death. She had walked into a war without training—without the will of a soldier or the means to survive as one. And this, the death, was her first sign of carnage: was she really this pathetic? Here she stood, torn up over the death of one faceless creature and the nightmares before it; even if she could continue, what strength did she have to fight off the creatures? Celestia herself was under them—the entirety of Equestria’s strength was under them, at least until they were saved by the Queen’s hubris.
But she wouldn’t make that mistake again, now would she?
Luna bowed her head; at least there was one sensible thing before her. The princess allowed her wings to carry her from the ground, floating up to the bloodied martyr. The body dropped from its noose, breaking against the rocks before finally slamming into the ground with a sickening thud. Luna watched the body plummet before turning her attention back to the noose: never had she seen briars grow from plain rock, nor had she even seen any strong enough to carry a body. Perhaps she should take them—a memory for the first to fall. Luna placed her hoof within the bloodied thorns and tore them from the rock, wincing as the blades sunk into her skin.
It was nothing to her, really, whether her blood was spent here or later. Life was such an evasive little thing: everyone was always evading something, even when it was deemed inevitable. What was death to fear any more than the setting of the sun? Both were set to come. Both were impossible to avoid, and yet everypony was always worried about death.
The nightmare, the final death of the changeling—they were all just reminders of some repressed fact she refused to accept.
Or perhaps she was just caught off guard. A calculative mind such as hers was not one that dealt well with variables; the changeling’s sudden, violent end was certainly a break from her illusion of control, as were the shadows that’d taken hold of her dreams.
Luna let the briars float before her eyes; the remnants of the changeling’s throat still glistened along the thorns, creating a splash of shining violet on the otherwise colorless vine. And for all her horror, she could not help but feel a slight bit of joy—she was at peace. It was then that another strange desire took form in her mind; she knew not why, but the mare tied the ends of the cord together, coiled the remains, and slid the vine around her neck.
The necklace floated over her skin, as though they were refusing to let her bleed. Still, the princess smiled. The sense of inevitability—that she would find peace—came upon her and held her above the reeking earth.
Luna took hold of the changeling’s body and returned it to its place in the underbrush. Someday, she might return for it—give it a burial it didn’t deserve. It did, after all, lead her far, even if it was without its own mind.
Perhaps, even, its death was a sign for her.
Luna turned to the cliff, finding herself shrunk to the majesty of nature’s wall. The rocks, which had slept in their place for thousands of years, glimmered under the light of dawn. Innocent, they remained bright, despite the painted blood of the hanged. Looking up, Luna was blind to the peak, having so long remained in the dark of the forest floor. But still, she felt the heat reflecting off the surface—a call that could only remind her of her sister and of her home.
The princess pushed off the ground and allowed herself to float along the rock. As she lifted through the trees, she caught sight of the body, reflecting what little sun could find it. Through all the pain, the creature’s stare had ended. No longer did its eyes seek her, but instead, they kept close to the sky, watching aimlessly as the winds shook the canopy.
Perhaps it never knew peace until now—until the end.
As Luna passed through the uppermost reaches of the forest and into the day, she turned herself away from the memories. Still, there remained the issues of where she was going, what she would do, and when would she do it. She knew nothing of changelings: not how they lived, not how they slept or survived. Her only resource was with the book, and that seemed to be mainly filled with evasive rants and code.
Still, it was something.
The princess twisted back towards the cliff, which had cut off just below her. Indeed, the wall was just as tremendous from above as it wall below; the cliff stretched on out of view, creating a near constant line between the forest below and the tawny grasslands that continued on for miles. For all her time spent locked within royal walls, Luna was caught aghast by the beauty that still remained in the unfound world.
Perhaps she might explore some when the time comes, but her mind still toiled with thoughts of duty. Luna dropped down to the Cliffside, finding a place within the savannah to drop her things. In her current dilemma, moving would be doing more harm than good; the princess resolved to camp again and search for something in the book. At worst, she would have to wait until another changeling passes, which wouldn’t be long given the visibility in the grasslands.
It would also give her the perfect chance to find food—something she hadn’t seen for nearly a day. With hunger gnawing at her stomach, Luna flipped the saddlebag open and yanked the hiker’s booklet out from the decaying apples. To her surprise, the bags of rice had remained intact throughout the endless walking, which was much more than could be said about the fruit. Luna scraped the apples from their place at the side of her bag before tossing them over the ledge.
As Luna looked back down at the remaining food, dismay took hold. Rice was, in desperation, a food that would keep her alive, but it certainly wasn’t going to keep her full. No, she would need something bigger—a solid, like a wild potato or a root—at least while she’s in a place that food is common.
Luna flipped through the booklet, hoping to find anything on the open grasslands. There were, as she expected, several wild plants that offered roots, but they wouldn’t be easy to find in the height of the grass, nor were they particularly common. Expecting to find nothing, Luna left her stuff where it was and shuffled into the fields.
Luna hiked for minutes on end, scanning the golden earth for anything that might resemble the coarse sketch floating in front of her face. Admittedly, she spent the majority of her time thinking over the earlier events—the sudden death of the changeling and the nightmare that had just taken her—but her eyes never left the ground.
Still though, she couldn’t help but feel overtaken by the strangeness. It was a dream—no, a nightmare, for “dream” implies hope—that brought her to a state she’d long forgotten.
Desperation.
Loneliness.
Paralysis.
Such were objects of the mortal plane or at least that of a weak spirit—illnesses cured by time and resolve. They were things that she’d left in childhood, cast away by her strength of will and her own wit. What, then, could have let these things return to her so suddenly?
Luna thought again and again, but continually returned to the same conclusion.
She wasn’t afraid of Chrysalis, was she? No, that would be silly. The queen was a bug—almost literally. Her arrogance sentenced her to failure, and in the end, something more permanent. Luna almost laughed at the thought: she was far more a nuisance than a “threat”.
Sure, she could do some damage with her army, but alone, she was nothing but a parasite—an ant against an army.
Sure, she now knew her enemy well enough to not make the same mistakes, but she would always invent new ones—it was the nature of her character.
She would always lose in the end, right?
Luna left her thoughts there. Her mind was stopped by a sound—a familiar rhythm—that she’d not heard for some time. Luna dropped the booklet in the grass and was greeted by fresh water, laying not fifty steps in front of her.
A stream with wide, sandy banks ran peacefully through the field.
The princess bolted for the creek, leaving her thoughts in the field. Water—never had it seemed so beautiful—so precious. Luna’s heart trilled with excitement as she slid into the muck and grime of the stream.
She took a drink.
Never had it been so…
Pure.
--~~--
As the water ran across the mare’s face, the pains in her head lessened. She could again hear the shifting of the grasses—the winds are they rolled over the hills and into her ears. So too did her sight clear, returning the world to its former beauty. For a moment, Luna relaxed. She slinked into the sand beside the creek and let herself be consumed by nature.
She smelled the dew and wildflowers growing somewhere underneath.
She felt the embrace of her sister lying within the midmorning sun and the mud, which sank under the weight of her hooves.
She could at last hear the birds dancing among the clouds and sunbeams, crying out to the heavens in constant melody. For once, she could forget about everything else. There was nothing else—just this. Luna laid back further into the dirt and stared into the sky, counting the clouds as they were swept across into the horizon.
The peace remained for minutes—hours even. Hunger left her, as did the pain and soreness. There was only light and peace: the ebbing and flowing of winds as they passed her by. Still, she remained in her place amongst the mud, enjoying every moment of her fleeting sanctity.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Luna twisted her head back to the speaker, caught in half joy. The peace had left her without worry—without caution.
Chrysalis stared down into her. A wry smile stretched across the sociopath’s face.
Luna spun in the mud but slipped, slamming her jaw into the shore. The queen remained in silence, left only to watch as her hunter scrambled upward.
“Come now. You don’t honestly think I’m going to try to kill you, do you? I would have—and could have—already cut you off when you were sitting here in your little euphoria. I could have done it when you were sleeping. I could have done it when you first came upon my path.” The queen leaned her head askew. “If you would like to bleed me here, I give you the opportunity. But somehow, I think you’ll resist.”
Luna pounded her hoof into the mud, lifting the mare up to eye level with the parasite. Adrenaline pumped through her skull, sending her senses into a spiral. Chrysalis spoke slowly and precisely—stabbing into Luna’s consciousness with each poison-laced word.
All the queen could do was smile—either unaware or uncaring towards Luna’s threat.
Just as quickly as it came, the adrenaline left Luna. Standing beside her only duty, and yet all she felt was ambivalence. Whether it was Chrysalis unspoken confidence or Luna’s own peace, the hate she had was turned to bile.
Luna stepped out of the mud and onto the shore, pacing around the motionless queen. “What if you’re lying? What’s to stop me from painting the ground with you? Go ahead. Humor me.”
“Well, that would be for you to find out, now wouldn’t it?” Chrysalis licked her lips. “Now, I’d rather you not do that, but, rest assured, I’ve planned for it. See, we’re both like that—both of us think with numbers. Though, I’d be pressed to say that I’ve taken it a bit further than you have.”
“Are you trying to impress me?”
The queen laughed. “Well, I wasn’t trying to, but are you impressed?”
Luna remained silent, but continued to circle the parasite. She was alone here—without weapons or numbers. Still, her swagger was a deterrent on its own merit; a coward like Chrysalis wouldn’t have walked into a losing situation with such heavy reliance on chance.
“Oh, you’ll be an interesting toy—I just know it. Tell me, princess, where were you when I was playing with your sister and all her little friends?” the queen gawked.
“I was—“
“You were nowhere, my disillusioned friend—or at least nowhere that you could see me. But here I am, and here you are. Together at last, hm?” The queen leaned into her opponents face, maintaining her caustic grin.
Luna backed away from the creature. “You’re not right. You—“
“If I may interrupt again, princess,” Chrysalis chimed, “your assumptions about me are made entirely by your experience with those ponies. When was the last time anyone spoke down to you like this, hm? When was the last time anyone looked you in the eye and told you that you were losing?” The queen stepped forward, sending a spike of fear up Luna’s spine. “Believe me when I say that my personality is just as fickle as I am. It will change to be whatever it needs to be; I just follow it along.”
The princess refused to back away; rather, she pushed into the parasites face, forcing it back into the creek. “No, you don’t. You’re just as blatant and arrogant as any other wretch—constantly trying to justify your power with self-told lies of uniqueness. I’ve seen it before—I’ve felt it long before you first breathed.” Sensing weakness, Luna pushed forward again, but Chrysalis regained control of herself. Once again, a wry grin stretched upon her face.
“Again with the assumptions—you really must leave them in your own country, Luna. How old do you think I am, hm?” The queen held a hoof under her eye, tugging at the skin. “Certainly I look much better than my age would tell, I’ll grant you that, but there is so much more to me than you would bother with. No, all you want to do is flay me and cook me in a stew, isn’t that right?” Chrysalis laughed, taken by her own joke. “I see why you love to be ignorant—it’s so much simpler!”
Luna grumbled. It was becoming ever clearer to her that Chrysalis was just buying time—playing her merciful side for whatever benefits lay behind it. Still, she was in no losing position; it would only take a flicker—a brief thought—to send the parasite’s bits all over the field.
“Oh, come now, Luna. We’ve only just met, and you’re bored with me already? Don’t you even care that I’m giving you what you wanted?” she cackled whilst sinking deeper into the bottom of the creek. “Don’t you just want to find a mind that just once challenges you? My-oh-my, to think I’d thought of you so highly!”
“I dread to know you think of me at all. Your sickened—polluted—mind could not possibly entertain my desire. What you—“
“What I have is a pony princess lying to herself in the face of lies incarnate. Come now—do you really think I’m to fall for your little game of virtue? You’re bored—that’s why you’re here. You want something interesting to do—some journey to battle your wits against—so you’ve come out here to gut me. Kill me if I’m wrong.”
Luna opened her mouth but once more shrunk away from the queen’s interjections.
“You and I—we’re sociopaths, the both of us. I’ve seen you before, you know, but back then you were so much more interesting. Everything you did was filled with rage and hate and emotion—things ponies don’t really care for, hm?” Chrysalis stepped free from the water. The smile disappeared from her face, as did the intensity of her stride; she began to walk alongside the creek—along the flow of water—paying little mind to her opponent, who cautiously followed. “This water here is clean. Take note of it, Luna. Neither of us will see one like it for quite some time.”
Luna stopped. “What are you doing here, Chrysalis? Do you value yourself so little that you’d be willing to throw yourself into the flame?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the queen cackled. “Why don’t you loosen up, hm? There’s no reason to be so dramatic, you know. You keep tossing this high-brow rhetoric at me—too much for my weak, polluted brain! At the end of this, there might only be one of us to recount it, and we’ll recount it however we so desire. No one will challenge you if you just give me a little more of yourself to work with.”
Once again, Luna slipped into silence, merely following behind her target. With every step, she struggled to amass the hate in her heart—the drive—to strike Chrysalis down. For all her words, she was just another parasite. There may be no second chance with her.
The queen took the silence and let it sit, keeping her attention on the stream. She knew Luna was planning to kill her—betrayal was, after all, something she knew rather well. But in the end, she opted not to move. Rather, she stood still and waited.
“End it then. I’ve given you every reason not to kill me—I’ve been personal and genuine. I will not offer you any more reasons. You’ll be killing a creature that you dared not know.”
Luna dug her hooves into the sand as she took aim. “I will be quick, know that much.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will. I’m sure you will.” Chrysalis turned to face her killer and closed her eyes. “Do not disappoint.”
It was within a fraction of a moment in time that the end came. Confusion and hatred—Luna needed only to harness that which the queen had already given her. Luna bowed her head as the pressure built within her skull. There was a spike of pain—unbridled agony as the reaches of her hate came free—then there was release.
No more lies.
No more dreams.
The shockwave crashed upon her. Rock and sand blasted against her legs, tearing through the flesh as they continued on. For one moment, she could hear the scream.
Then silence.
The debris was still falling when Luna opened her eyes. The banks of the stream had been broken by the impact; she could hear a faint trickling noise as the water fell into the scar she had left. For all its words and thoughts, Chrysalis had been left only as a crater resting in the middle of uncharted worlds, bearing no more significance or presence.
Was this it then?
Was this her big act of absolution? Did the slaughter of one broken spirit allow another to rise back into its place?
Luna felt a sickness in her that she had not felt since the days of her fall. Every word Chrysalis had left—it was all planned for this moment—so that she could not feel the warmth of success or any matter of transcendence.
Chrysalis’ last gift to her: emptiness. The parasite opted for death only so that it might corrupt her.
And it succeeded.
Luna shuffled through muck and sand, pushing aside the pain from her bloodied skin. She looked down into the crater, and watched as the water came upon the remains.
She had done it.
She had ended the threat—she’d allowed herself the courage and found its end in regicide.
All that remained was a hole in the ground, which lay in silence. Soon, water would fill the hole, and so too would the sands fall into their place. In a year, there would be nothing of it—the red-spattered walls already ran clean.
Luna twitched. The thought had come upon her.
Red-spattered walls.
Something was wrong—very wrong. She knew not what, but the sense came upon her as a storm—she was missing something.
Red-spattered walls.
Luna looked down at her neck and the choker around it. The violet stains of the changeling blood still stood.
Violet.
Luna twisted her head only in time to feel the force crashing against her temple. Her sight flickered bright as the sand under her hooves collapsed; the mare fell backwards into the crater, slamming headfirst into the crimson pool.
Chrysalis looked down from above.
A twisted, caustic smile stretched across her face.
The world went dark.
“An interesting toy, indeed.”