//------------------------------// // Feather by ArguingPizza // Story: Magic of Love: A Twidance Prompt Collab // by ArguingPizza //------------------------------// by ArguingPizza ~~~ This is the finale to the Second Chances series. The previous chapter can be found here. The train ride back to the Crystal Empire was a long, awkward affair. Cadence spent nearly the entire journey in a corner of the railcar that had been set aside for her, staring out the window with unseeing eyes. Around her, the Crystal Knights, all of them at least somewhat disgruntled after having been left behind yet again by the Princess they were charged to escort, did their best to maintain a healthy distance in the somewhat cramped quarters. Any and all conversation that arose was quickly squashed with a scathing glance from Cinnabar. Cadence hardly noticed them. She leaned against the window, her eyes unfocused as the green of the countryside passed by in a blur. She wasn’t lost in thought, nor did she daydream. She merely existed, all her strength to think or feel or move stripped from her. Her eyes were only open because they weren’t closed, she sat only because she wasn’t standing. Almost certainly, had it not been for Cinnabar, Cadence would still have been on the hilltop she had landed on after fleeing Ponyville. Regardless of whether the Crystal Princess took notice or not, time did continue to pass, and eventually Cadence was roused from her stupor by a gentle hoof on her withers. From habit if nothing else, Cadence turned her head and saw it was Sir Cinnabar, concern etched into the hard-worn lines of his face. “Your Majesty, we’ve arrived,” he whispered, quietly enough for only her ears. She blinked at him, suddenly noticing the burning dryness of her eyes, and she glanced around the car. The other Knights were all watching her, each making the attempt to appear politely disinterested. Cadence looked back at Cinnabar mutely. The silence dragged on for an uncomfortably long moment, Cinnabar unwilling to speak before his liege and Cadence completely unable, before Cinnabar retracted his hoof and came to attention. “If you would like to head to the Spire, we would escort you, Princess.” Despite the dense fog of lethargy encapsulating her, Cadence recognized the support Cinnabar was offering, and dipped her head to confirm his suggestion. She stood, her muscles sore and aching from her long bout of inactivity and the furious exertion that was her rush to Ponyville. The simple act of moving forced her mind into something at least barely resembling functionality, if only to direct her steps. The train station was nearly empty, the rest of the train’s passenger having long since disembarked and those returning to Equestria already boarded. Ponies pressed against windows in the passenger cars to watch as Cadence and her retinue passed them on their way to the city, all of them eager to see a Princess in the flesh, even if separated by a panel of glass. The steady clip-clip of hooves ate the road to the Capitol quickly, until the empty fields surrounding the city gave way to monolithic crystal buildings. The streets were filled with the midday crowds, a majority of Crystal Ponies with the odd Equestrian or even Griffon here and there. Regardless of species, they all parted to allow the party through. While it would be a gross fabrication to say that Cadence was even remotely alert, she had walked the streets of her city often enough to recognize anything out of the ordinary regarding her ponies. Normally, when she took a stroll through the Capital, the ponies would be all smiles and pleasant greetings. While they would normally maintain a respectful distance, with the exception of the occasional overly-enthusiastic foal, most ponies would make a point of offering a kind wave at the very least. But, as the group passed through the emerging corridor of the crowd, nopony smiled. Nopony waved. Conversation, normally free-flowing and enthusiastic, was hushed. The ponies whispered among themselves, too quietly for Cadence to overhear, casting furtive glances her way and quickly looking away if she tried to meet them. The Knights, unsettled by the unusual behavior of the crowd, tightened ranks around her. They were stallions, and more importantly, soldiers, of a different time. The word ‘assassination’ hung heavily in their vocabulary, not as a distant concept banished to the annals of history, but as a shadowy presence well within living memory. It was not only a lasting legacy of Sombra, but the inevitable result of ponies a thousand years out of their own time. Even with years to adjust, many were still adapting to the new, more peaceful place the world had become in their long absence. With the stallions surrounding her on every side, their crystal armor clinking as they moved in step, it made it even more difficult for Cadence to make sense of the ponies’ odd behavior. It was petty happenstance that, at just the most inopportune moment, an errant breeze passed by, carrying with it a potent sampling of their words. “Whore.” Cadence stumbled. Word, it seemed, had beaten her to the Empire. The Knights, noticing her distress, stopped and put themselves between her and the crowd. Without the inherent noise of walking, and knowing now what to listen for, the quiet, faint chattering morphed into sharp, cutting condemnations. “Whore.” “Cheater.” “Liar.” “Harlot.” Cadence turned round and round, finally taking notice of the hostility that surrounded her. Gone were the familiar smiles and happy eyes, and in their place were sneers and derision. It was a bitterly unfamiliar feeling, seeing the ponies she always sought to do justice by turning on her so. The great, omnipresent weight she had carried for weeks suddenly pressed down on her with renewed vigor, and she very nearly collapsed in the street. “Princess, I believe it would be best if we continued on our way,” Sir Cinnabar whispered to her urgently after noticing her distress, not taking his eyes away from the crowd. He was a clever stallion, and it was no mystery to him what had suddenly afflicted her. Cadence offered no resistance when, after a brief moment of her indecision, he began to lightly coax her forward. She nearly tripped on her hooves, but managed to remain upright as the shield of stallions around her escorted her towards the Crystal Spire at a quick but controlled pace. In her shock and her guards’ haste, Cadence failed to notice that not all the faces were entirely hostile. While there was no approval to be found, the great majority of ponies wore expressions of pity, or sympathy, or mere sadness. Cadence saw only the flecks of harsh gold in the stone, the scattered judgmental glowers blending together into a solid, damning mosaic. The group reached the Spire with merciful swiftness, and Cadence was soon safely ensconced in her glass tower. She sat panting on the floor of the Spire’s foyer, her chest gripped with she could only think of as a panic attack. She performed the breathing exercises Celestia had taught her repeatedly until her body returned to her control. She refused Cinnabar’s pleas for her to allow the Imperial physicians to examine her. Instead, she dismissed him and the rest of the Knights and left to return to her room. On the way, she passed dozens of staff, attendants, and guards, and left hushed gossiping in her wake. She felt as if she were a fugitive fleeing justice as she rushed through the halls of her own home, avoiding eye contact and skulking through lesser-used passageways. It was a relief when she finally reached the door to her chambers, which was swiftly cut down by the realization that a pair of Crystal Knights still stood vigil on either side. “Sir Pyrite, Sir Rigid,” she acknowledged with what could not even be charitably called a smile and a nod of her head. “Majesty,” they intoned together, their voices flat and professional. Cadence hid a wince: though they had always been quite formal, both Knights had near always shown, in their own way, the affection they felt towards her and Twilight. As members of their personal guards, much more often Twilight’s than her own, she realized belatedly, she and Twilight had come to know them as well as any of their guards. Pyrite, the more talkative of the two, was always quick to offer them warm greetings or pleasant conversation whenever he was present. His near-constant companion, Sir Rigid, despite rarely speaking, could also communicate a tome’s worth of meaning in a single glance. Now, gone was the familiarity she had grown accustomed to, and its place was cold formality. It hurt to lose yet another source of comforting familiarity: her wife had left her, her aunts were furious with her, one of them having all but banished her from Equestria proper, her staff was no doubt mocking her the moment she was out of earshot. She was an iceberg adrift in a hostile ocean, and the knowledge that she had been the one to hack herself free hurt all the more. Sir Pyrite and Sir Rigid, disciplined soldiers that they were, opened the double doors for her with perfect precision. They kept their eyes forward as she passed, and she lowered her head in shame to avoid seeing their faces, no doubt locked into the stern, unyielding half-scowl pony soldiers were renowned for the world over. When the doors closed behind her, she took a moment to look around her bedroom. The cleaning staff had done their duty despite her absence. The bed had been remade, and the curtains, ruined during Twilight’s violent teleportation, had been replaced, as had the sheets and comforter. The condom that had been her ultimate undoing had been discarded, and she wasted no thought on what its fate had been. Near the balcony window, the floor was uneven and warped where the spell’s energy had superheated the crystal into a boiling puddle. Cadence looked away and kicked her hoofboots free haphazardly. She tossed her torque and crown in the general direction of her vanity table, crawled onto her bed. It truly was her bed now, she thought. There would be no Twilight waiting on her after a long day of performing her royal duties, no reason to leave a spot beside her for her wife to crawl into beside her. As she looked over the huge bedspread, it suddenly seemed desolate rather than spacious. She drew the canopy closed, determined to sleep and escape her troubles as long as she could, and settled herself beneath the covers. The bed curtain blocked out a fair portion of the light streaming in through the windows, allowing only a dim portion of the sun’s rays through. The thick walls and insulated glass insulated her from the hustle and bustle of the city’s activity, allowing her bed to act as a quiet oasis of peace. Cadence tossed and turned at first, unable to find a comfortable position. She was unused to sleeping alone: she and Twilight had hardly spent a night apart since their wedding, and never for more than a day at a time. She had grown used to cuddling and falling asleep with the scent of lavender and parchment in her nose. The freshly laundered sheets smelled unfamiliar and wrong, the expensive detergent a poor substitute. Frustrated, Cadence eventually pulled a large, rarely used body pillow from the closet and brought it to her chest. As she wedged it in beside her, a streak of dark purple on the light violet sheets caught her eye, freezing her in place. The maids had not been as thorough as she had expected. A purple feather, apparently trapped between the pillows, remained. Cadence picked it up carefully, as though expecting it to dissolve at her touch. When it remained solid, she rolled it between her hooves, watching the delicate patterns in the vane shift in the light. A thought occurred to her, and she sniffed the discarded plumage. Cadence smiled sadly. Though faint, the smell of Twilight was unmistakable. She used her magic to cut a small slit in the pillowcase and slid the hollow shaft inside securely. Satisfied, she curled into her nest of sheets and clutched the pillow tightly to her chest. If she tried hard enough, she could imagine, for a moment at least, that it was Twilight against her. She could pretend she hadn’t lost the love of her life, ruined her marriage, and turned her entire nation against her. For a moment, at least. With sleep sinking its sharp talons into her for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, Cadence didn’t notice that she had already soaked her pillow with tears. Far below, at the base of the Spire, the Crystal Heart hovered in place, suspended midair between the Earth and the Spire itself. The Crystal Heart, a conduit for the inherit magic in all the citizens of the Crystal Empire, was absolutely humming with energy. The excitement of a royal scandal, even if all the exact details were not yet known, was a rare thing. Rumors flew, carrying news of varying believability. There was talk of everything from Princess Twilight having renounced her Imperial Crown to Princess Cadence and the entire Imperial Guard having been replaced by a Changeling. As Princess Cadence cried herself to sleep in solitude, and her ponies eagerly gossiped back and forth, the Crystal Heart began a low, nearly inaudible whine. It shivered in place, though nopony was quite close enough to hear it. Distracted as they were, nopony noticed when a thin, hairline fracture appeared in the center of the perfectly cut face of the Crystal Heart.