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// Regalia 
// Story: Chryssi’s notebook 
// by Kryssi 
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Today was a quiet day for Princess Celestia, Bringer of the Sun, High Princess, or as many ponies called her in the media, “Second Best Princess on the Diarchy”. It was Discord’s Flash Mob Day again, but he had the propriety to host it in Ponyville this time. As a result, much of her usual incessant petitioners had took the trains down to Ponyville and participated in the plethora of mundane flash mobbing occuring there.

The silence in Canterlot was quite eerie. They called the city the “City that Never Sleeps”, and to see it sleep for the first time in a century was something that would take much longer than a day to become accustomed with. If she hadn’t flew above the nearest town to Canterlot (which incidentally was Ponyville) to check, she could have sworn that Equestria had, during the night before, become the post-apocalyptic wasteland described in those doorstops.

“Celestia, I want your regalia.” The voice, as sharp as her fangs, cut through her train of thought. It derailed the train while it was on its way to Fictionville, apparently a popular tourist destination, and five hundred civilians died from the resulting crash.

Princess Celestia, all-powerful alicorn of the Sun, shook her head to clear the grisly scene from her mind. “Come again?” she asked, as she peered down at the changeling… queen? Changeling princess? It was as if somepony or some changeling had compressed Chrysalis into a smaller body and changed all the green and turquoise bits to a ferocious fire-red. The changeling royal, who stood at the bottom of the dais, had her face more stoic and level-headed than even Princess Celestia could. If it was an ability all changelings had, perhaps she should ask Twilight to keep that in the backburner for until they could invite a changeling turncoat (should one even exist) to her lab; she’d jump to researching its expert control of its facial expressions faster than a lion could leap towards his prey.

“I want your regalia,” the changeling said again, more forcefully.

“Oh?” This time, Princess Celestia had kept at least one ear open while in her daydream. She leant closer to the changeling—just enough so that she wouldn’t topple and land on her muzzle. “Pray tell, for what reason do you wish to acquire my regalia?”

“So I can disguise myself as you.”

Princess Celestia wondered what was ticking in the changeling’s mind, with that harsh, emotionless voice. Every word the changeling said was analytic, piercing, bare to the core. No doubt the visitor was probably planning Equestria’s demise by throwing Princess Celestia in the crystal mines and then eating the  supply of cake. Or rather, a vol-au-vent. Everypony liked vol-au-vents, right? It was the newest craze that had the cake industry on its cannons. Except there wouldn’t be any vol-au-vents because everypony, even the suppliers who were supposed to pop in that morning, was still participating in the festivities of Flash Mob Day.

She cut off her thoughts like a pony cutting off her own hoof. It was quite sharp. After taking a glance at the unemotional changeling staring directly into her soul, she sighed a sigh more dramatic than she herself could ever have imagined. “Okay. So take it off me then.” Princess Celestia eventually replied, feigned sorrow in her voice.

The changeling immediately lifted Princess Celestia into the air. Although Princess Celestia could see a single stray spark flying off the changeling’s horn, it swiped the regalia off Celestia’s head, neck and hooves with her levitation quickly before setting the princess back on the throne. An overly-dramatic swoosh noise was heard as the regalia were swept towards the changeling.

“Thanks” was all the changeling said, coldly, as she turned to walk the incredibly tedious distance to the doors of the throne room. The regalia floated in front of the changeling, suspended in an orange-red aura.

“Wait! What’s your name?” Princess Celestia called.

There was only the continued clacking of hooves, quieter and quieter as the changeling royal walked away and eventually reached the thick golden doors. She didn’t even turn around.

Back at the throne, Princess Celestia merely shrugged, though a bit saddened by the changeling’s non-response to her question.

She kept plenty of spare regalia in the drawer, after all.