October 28, 1000 ANM
I do not wish to seem like a tribalist. It is not becoming of a tyrant of any caliber to favor groups of ponies over each other, no matter the reason. When I rise to ultimate power, it is my desire that all of my subjects remain equally under my domination. The aristocrats will, of course, be happily deluded into believing otherwise.
My future readers must bear this notice in mind, for I will say now that changelings can, at times, be annoying. Granted, I only know five of them personally, but their varied eccentricities lean them toward a slope of difficulty.
After lunch this afternoon, I summoned Bumblebee to my chambers for an interview. It was my intention to pry into whatever secrets he bore without provoking his suspicion. While subtlety is not my preferred method of operations, it seemed most worthwhile to avoid letting my spies discover that I had discovered that one of them was her spy.
“You doing better?” he asked as soon as we had begun. Then he caught himself with a slight scowl. “Not that I’m concerned, obviously. It just makes sense that Chrysalis could take us in so easily, and that you could be trapped somewhere dark and horrible for a week.”
“I shall ignore your implication that the darkness is not an entity of beauty and wonder,” I said haughtily, “and instead thank you for your grudging concern. Now tell me what you can about Chrysalis’s exploits while I was occupied.”
He rubbed the back of his head. “Now that I know she was a fake, it seems pretty obvious in hindsight that she wasn’t you. She was a lot happier, for one thing. And she didn’t really have much for the four of us to do, which is definitely odd.”
“That is not so surprising. If she had, it would have been more likely that one of you would have noticed the disguise. But enough exposition! You say ‘not much,’ which is of course not the same as ‘nothing at all.’ Do enlighten me on the words she spoke to you.”
“Sure. She said ‘not to get our knickers in a twist’ about the whole world domination thing.”
“I fear that … I love that your colloquialism has bypassed my understanding completely.”
“That makes two of us. They were her words, not mine.” Bumblebee snorted. “Royalty sure is weird. Anything else?”
“Not unless she had any further words of ‘wisdom.’”
She had not, so he soon departed. I mused over this information for a moment, then suddenly came to an obvious conclusion. Was it not a simple matter to detect the traitor through means of comparing their stories? Surely a dissimilar account of Chrysalis’s words would provide the necessary revelation.
When I interviewed Aranea, the hypothesis seemed to hold. “She told us not to be concerned,” she said, rubbing her chin in thought. “Specifically? Not to worry about anything. A particularly odd thing to say, considering that we’d been concerned about the exodus just the day before.”
When she left, I resisted the urge to cheer. Hah! Aranea’s version of no concern had naught in the slightest to do with knickers. Clearly one of them must be the traitor!
However, upon speaking with Skeeter just in case, she scoffed at the memory of Chrysalis’s order. “She actually said ‘knickers in a twist.’ Really? She might be hundreds of years old, but doesn’t make her a grandma. Why not just say ‘quit worrying’ like the usual idiot? Crud like ‘knickers’ doesn’t just drop out of your mouth, does it?”
So their tales all aligned after all! This must mean it was Bachuru who I must punish. I called for her after her sister had departed, rubbing my hooves together in the anticipation of catching her red-hoofed. I was not an uncivil pony, of course, so I determined I would allow her to speak her piece as a formality.
“I didn’t get it,” she said plainly. “You can’t twist nickers. They float like a leaf on the wind.”
I thanked her for her time, then slammed my head into the wall. This, I assure you gentle readers, was not an attempt of the Nightmare to seize control of me again. That only happened a smattering of times on the eve of the possession. No, this was merely an expression of frustration, an emotion which I was quite entitled to feel at that point.
“It all aligns,” I vented to Blueblood later. “What am I to do at this juncture? I am not acquainted with thickets of lies, so how must I navigate this one?”
He almost managed to hide an expression of the utmost disbelief. “That certainly is a question to question.”
“Entirely correct!” I punched one of the many pillows on one of his many couches. “Now I am no closer to the truth than before, despite my sly gambit. I will have to watch them all carefully, I suppose. As if I did not have enough watching to do with opportunities for conquering.”
“And the Asteroid of Friendship.”
“You did send them films during my absence?”
“Of course.”
“Then all is well on that front. It is vital that they suffer for their insolence. But again, I seem to be at an unprecedented loss.”
“Not to add more to your plate, but don’t you have to decide what to do for Nightmare Night as well?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came. Was this not the issue that had caused me to storm off in the first place, before Chrysalis’s infiltration? “That is true,” I managed to say. “But is there not time still to determine my course?”
He looked up from the classless book he was reading. “There’s only three more days. I’ve spent more time trying to figuring out whether to wear a magenta scarf or a raspberry one.”
“A fair point.” I moved to the window, through which I could see Mi Amore Cadenza discussing something with a royal guard below. “Have you any suggestions?”
He thought for a moment. “I’m afraid I can’t be of much help. I don’t have much to do with public relations.”
This is the situation I find myself in now. Even after the would-be invasion of the changelings, I never find the end of trial and tribulation. Am I doomed to chase my lofty goals across broad plains of apathy, forever stretching across space and time like the vast realms of Iris and Gaia?