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Mission6,421 words
Dodge2,910 words
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Dust2,023 words
Shiver1,726 words
Nightmare1,382 words
Warmth1,479 words
Flicker1,401 words
Traitor1,717 words
Drop2,248 words
Break875 words
Exiles554 words

Exiles

It’s like trying to remember a dream after awakening, to seize on the stray fragments of unreality and hold them and piece them back together. An impression, here and there: shafts of hot golden sun, cracked stone beneath her, a complex green smell in the air.

Caballeron is standing on a dais, peering at an idol placed above it—a figure of some creature with long limbs, its mouth stretched into a grin: gold, or gilded, with jewels inset where its eyes would be. There is a pegasus next to him—a mare, rather like Loyalty, glancing occasionally at Caballeron, her gaze lingering for a bit longer than it needed to. The two of them talked quietly, indistinct from where Luna stands.

She walks towards them, hooves loud on the stone beneath her. The sun is bright—too bright for her eyes, really, but she is glad of it after the unending darkness of the Hive, even if it is not truly her sister’s sun.

They don’t seem to notice Luna, even as she begins up the stairs to the dias. The mare leans in towards Caballeron, her lips meeting his, and after a moment of surprise, his eyes close.

Luna continues towards them, and calls out to Caballeron.

There is no sign that the stallion even hears her.

“Doctor Caballeron!”

One eye opens, and glares at Luna for a second before shutting tighter than before. She is on the sun-warmed dias now, and strides towards the two. “Doctor Caballeron, I have need of you. Attend to me or I will—”

There was a giggle from behind her. “It’s hopeless, you know.” That voice...

Luna cannot help herself. She turns around. That bright skin. Those warm eyes. “Sister, what are you—” she starts, and then her eyes narrow. “Chrysalis. Cease this mockery at once.”

Chrysalis pouts. It looks like Celestia, heartachingly so: her bearing, the tilt of her head, a hundred other unnoticeable—unforgettable—details all perfect. If Luna were to approach, surely she would even smell the same. “I was hoping to spend some more time with the good doctor before being... interrupted.”

“I know he can hear me,” Luna says.

“For now,” Chrysalis says, and the rush of wind across the trees and the cries of the birds in the jungle cease. The lovers pause in their embrace. “Do you recognize this place, princess?”

“No.”

The changeling gazes out into the jungle. “A shame. I don’t either. I suppose we are both exiles, in a sense. Strange to this world.”

Luna says nothing.

“This is what he wants at the very center of himself. What he thinks he deserves. This. Her. Whoever she is, whatever this is. Of course he can hear you, princess. But he’s trying his very hardest not to. What can you offer him to compare to this?”

“Doctor Caballeron!” Luna calls. Her voice carries in the silence.

The disguise drains off Chrysalis, and she is left as she is, ebony hide gleaming in the sun, cruel eyes narrowed from the light. “He is lost to you.”

The cacophony of the jungle swells back. Caballeron starts to life, and pulls the mare in closer.

There is a whisper in Luna’s ear—her sister’s voice again. “I know about the traitor.”

Luna turns, but Chrysalis is gone, and the dream is slipping away from her already.

Author's Note:

It lives. Proper update next week.

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