• Published 27th May 2012
  • 4,128 Views, 333 Comments

Collateral - Ogopogo



The search for changelings hiding in Equestria doesn't just affect the guilty.

  • ...
23
 333
 4,128

Chapter V - Contemplation (Updated)

It was just like how I had started my dark journey: one step after another.

In the wee hours of the morning, Canterlot was deserted, even ghosts missing from the cobbled streets. My off-black chitin blended flawlessly into the night’s shadows, guarding me from prying eyes. My wings screamed in pain from the shards glass still lodged in them, my head buzzed and ached from the emptiness of emotion, and I smelt like a mix of rancid potatoes and moldy watermelons. Mentioning how I escaped the castle might also be of some benefit.

There was no way I was leaving through conventional exits, not without a disguise, which required energy I desperately lacked. So, I had to improvise. My exit was through the kitchen, or more specifically, the compost chute. In many ways, I think the sewers would have been a far more pleasant option. I wouldn’t get the feeling of the moldy slush out of my head for weeks to come. Additionally, the pieces of glass that yet remained trapped in my wings, and embedded in my carapace, were driven in further from the fall.

As my mind wandered back to the present, exhaustion threatened to topple me at any moment. Not only had I been up all day, under stressful circumstances, but my magic reserves were utterly drained. In fact, even as I walked along, my mind struggled to keep my body in check. The urge to consume emotion was beginning to grow overwhelming. My body didn’t care how I got it, only that I did. Yet, I wasn’t prepared to break into a home to terrorize a family to do so, regardless of how they would most definitely act.

There was one place within the limits of the city that I could go to receive the emotion I desired, without bringing harm down on the heads of the victims. It was a longshot at best, but Lemon Marmalade’s inn was perhaps the only place I could turn to. With any luck, the sympathy they felt for me would still be there, and as they knew what I truly was, it wouldn’t harm them.

I was trying to keep my mind occupied, as I found my thoughts increasingly turning to less-than-desirable situations. Perhaps now would be the time to explain why changelings didn’t keep to themselves, and why simple disguises hurt others to a lesser degree.

The answer to the first question is rather simple. Changelings have evolved to absorb and minimize any emotional waste, not only from others’, but also our own. If you want it in simpler terms, changelings set aside the majority of the pie for themselves before dividing it up amongst the others. The difference was not slight, and teacher had pegged the ratio at around twenty-five to one; that is, one pony’s love is equal to the love of twenty-five changelings.

Even though it’s a foreign concept, the law of conservation of energy still applies. Energy couldn’t be created out of nothingness, otherwise we would have conquered the world long ago. The extent of energy gained, transferred, borrowed or lost, was not solely dependant on the strength of the emotion. Other factors like... Um, like...

Moving on...

The theft of emotional energy may have been a sin, but there are exceptions to the rule. Foremost among them was (to make use of the technical term) emotional displacement and intrusion. In simpler terms: our disguises. When we donned the image of someone else, be they existing or a creation of the mind, we created an identity, fake in every regard. I really didn’t know how or why, but what the heart knew as a fraud, the mind recognized as true. Because of this simple fact, a portion was given, a portion taken. Some could survive the treatment indefinitely; others simply couldn’t.

One foot in front of the other, again and again and again.

The mantra embedded itself in my head, a chant to willpower, my mind repeating the simple task monotonously. My steps grew uneven as time went on, and I barely had the energy to stand. Yet, I knew, if I stopped for even a second, I would collapse into sleep - or worse. My body could take utter control, and in a manner similar to sleepwalking, I would drain a unfortunate victim into a husk. Time plowed on with the speed of a thawing iceberg as the worn stones passed beneath me.

What should have been a cry of delight was little more than a groan as the familiar grey slate roofing of the inn came into sight. It looked as though they had made some headway with the roof, after all. The hole was roughly patched up with shingles of wood in the place of elegant tile. Upon reaching the door - the back one, in the interests of safety - I didn’t so much as knock as I collapsed against it. The murmur of noise within halted, the sudden intrusion having cut off their previous conversation.

“Hello-” Marmalade's question came to a choking halt when she saw me. “Boulder, Flare, get down here right now,” I heard her yell back inside.

With the sudden outpouring of sympathy, I found the energy to raise my head and give her a smile. “Hey,” I grunted. “Fancy seeing you again.”

“What is it Mar-” Just as they had with his cousin, the words died on Boulder’s lips. “Amethyst?”

“Yeah,” I replied, drawing myself up. “That’s me.”

“What happened to you?” Boulder’s eyes went wide as he saw something. “You’re bleeding!”

Sure enough, I noted with a glance at my back, the glass shards had been driven into my back with the tumble down the compost chute, drawing forth a sputtering stream of crimson blood even now. I had been so mentally zoned out, however, that I hadn’t even noticed.

“Huh,” I muttered, “So I am.”

So add blood loss to the list of things making my head spin. It was little surprise, then, that I couldn’t remember them pulling me in and laying me down on one of the tables. I looked up at Marmalade, a few pills levitating before her.

“What are those?” I questioned.

“Painkillers,” she said, floating them near my mouth to swallow.

I shook my head, swaying momentarily from the dizziness at the simple action. “No.” I stated. “No painkillers.”

“There are glass shards in your back, Amethyst,” Flare said, calmly giving me my diagnosis. “We’re going to have to take them out before we can wrap you up.”

“Last time I took normal medicine, I wound up seeing double for a week. My physiology doesn’t mesh perfectly with yours.” How I managed to describe this to them when I was so woozy was beyond me.

“It’s going to hurt like hell, you realize that?” Marmalade asked.

“Just get me something to bite down on; I’ll be fine.”

I knew I wouldn’t. Still, I had no choice.

Despite their unease, I repeated my assurances. Reluctantly, they offered a twisted towel for me to bite down on. Muffled by the cloth, I mumbled an order. The prickling of discomfort grew to a roar of pain when as a shard was gripped. The discomfort gave way to agony, and I trembled, whimpering, inadvertently making the situation worse.

“Hold him steady!” hollered Flare, his voice distant in my ears.

I gasped as weight pressed down on my legs, pinning me to the table. Claustrophobic thoughts began to swirl in my mind, every image nastier than the one before. My jaw was clenched for all its worth, the cloth slowly tearing in the piercing grip of my canines. The pressure relented, and from the once-painful spot flowed the sweet nectar of relief. My muscles seized up as Flare repeated the action, drawing out another shard. In my panic, I tried to flap my wings, to escape.

That only it worse.

My throat quickly grew raw as I screamed, the towel falling out of my mouth. The pressure on my limbs grew, as I flailed around, trying to escape the burning agony anyway I could.

“Flare, do something!” Marmalade shouted. I barely even recognized her words.

Something struck me at the base of my skull, and mercifully, everything went silent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again, waking to an agonizing migraine, pounding in tune to a heartbeat, is hardly pleasurable. The morning light cut through the curtains like a razor, shredding the remnants of my restful slumber. The pain, the tightness across my middle, had vanished, now replaced by a slow, dull ache. Sighing, I gingerly rolled off the bed, fighting the light-headedness as I righted myself. I took a moment to examine where I was, taking stock of the room around me. It was a cozy abode, the usual sort of thing for an inn. There were a few chairs, a small desk smushed into the corner across the small carpet from the bed, leaving a little space for a dresser. A door, which I assumed led to the bathroom, stood by the entrance, creating an impromptu hallway.

The first step I took was a shaky one, unbalanced by the battle in my head. The second was still off-balance due to the restrictions around my midriff. Glancing back, I saw a large sheet of gauze had been attached to my back by means of loops of medical tape around my barrel. The torn edges of my wings managed to evade the enclosure, leaving me with a heavy heart. I guess flying was out of the question for a little while; weeks, if I was lucky.

In many regards, I was shocked to find the door unlocked. I thought for sure that they would have taken that precaution, or at least alert the guard to where I was. No, that wasn’t really fair of me to say; had they been intending to turn me in, I never would have awoken so comfortably, if at all. Perhaps I had been wrong to judge them so hastily. Surely I could forgive them for their grievances in the light of the invasion, so long as they were willing to listen to reason. Right?

Each step I took down the stairs was cautious and silent. My thoughts were not concise, still deliberating on what their plans for me were. The doubts were answered when I found them at a table, talking amongst each other over the remains of breakfast. Flare was the first to notice me, nodding his head and lending me a silent greeting. The others turned to see me, waiting to gauge my reaction.

“Hi,” I croaked in the momentary silence.

“Sleep well?” Boulder asked, shifting to the side to offer me a spot at the table.

“Pretty well,” I answered, trotting up to the spot. Only then did I notice the black bruise dominating Boulder’s right eye. “What happened there?”

“Here?” He raised a hoof to point at the spot. “You did that last night, when you were flailing about.”

“Sorry,” I muttered sheepishly. “I can barely remember what happened.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Boulder said, shrugging. “It’s hardly your fault. As for the rest of it...”

“Flare knocked you out,” Marmalade finished.

“What?” she asked, seeing the stares she was getting from her cousins.

“I wouldn’t have put it quite so bluntly,” he muttered in reply.

“Well it’s the truth isn’t it?”

“Yes, but-”

“Marm’s right.” Flare interrupted. Turning his attention to me, he calmly continued. “I had to knock you out before you hurt yourself or any of us.”

“Any further,” he added after his brother gave an obvious cough.

“It’s fine,” I answered with a small sigh. “Probably for the best, anyway.”

I paused, awkwardly trying to figure out to bring it up. They had shown me they were completely undeserving of the thoughts I had assigned to them. They were generous, completely forgiving once I had given my explanation and shown myself to be in need. To be asking more of them now...

“Um, you wouldn’t happen to have anything to eat? Not emotions, solid food,” I blurted hurriedly, afraid they took the same notion as the guard had in the castle.

Marmalade blinked. “You eat food? I thought changelings lived off love.”

“Sort of... Emotions are what fuel our magic, but they don’t nourish us. There’s no way to create nutrients and vitamins from magic without taking it from something else. It’s easier just to eat to get them than to try and let magic sort it out. Besides, you’re already giving me enough emotion.” It took me seconds to realize what I had said.

“N-No,” I stammered, “I didn’t-”

“You’re feeding off us!” Marmalade exclaimed, part question, part accusation.

“Yes... No... Just, please, listen,” I pleaded with her.

It was the guilt that stopped her. Guilt over how quick she had been to judge me, and how she had treated me the day before. She sat back down, permitting me to continue.

As briefly as I could, I explained the whole concept to them. About halfway through, during one of his brother’s questions, Flare stood up and slipped through a door, while Marmalade and Boulder listened with rapt attention. Their faces slowly changed from disbelief to comprehension as I continued to talk. It would seem as though my words were not so foreign as to be impossible to believe.

Flare returned with a plate of food as I finished, setting the scrambled eggs and toast down in front of me. I gratefully attacked the food, savoring the flavor.

“Thanks,” I muttered halfway through a bite, remembering my manners.

“Hungry?” Flare chuckled, taking his seat again.

“Very. The only thing I had to eat the past two days was a cinnamon bun, an apple and a hunk of bread from the guard.”

“Wait, the guard?” Boulder asked. “Where did they come in?”

I chuckled nervously “You see what happened at the castle yesterday?”

Realization clicked. “You mean that was you!”

“What?” Marmalade questioned, having missed the sight.

Boulder turned around to snatch a newspaper off the table behind him. “That,” he declared, pointing at the front page.

Some incredibly lucky photographer must have had their camera pointed at the castle, right when I lost my resolve. The picture could hardly have been more perfect. A small ring of purple fire radiated out from Celestia’s chambers, twinkling with many shards of glass. I couldn’t help but be impressed by my destructive talents; I hadn’t thought I could do that. Perhaps it would be worth the time to learn how to perform such a spell upon command.

“You did this?” gasped Marmalade. “Why?”

Certainly it would have to be in the paper: the royal proclamation. Ah, here it was, on the second page. I repeated the words engraved in my mind. “By the order of the Princesses, Celestia and Luna: Any changeling found is to be captured and handed over to the Royal Guard for their part in the attack on Canterlot. These creatures are extremely dangerous and may take measures to disguise themselves.” I hesitated. skipping over a few lines. “Take care and offer changelings no sympathy; they are sure to use you against your loved ones.”

“Wait, you don’t mean you bla-”

“Blame them? Damn right I do,” I growled. “If not for that bloody declaration, my parents would be alive right now. They were going to give me a trial for ‘my crimes against Canterlot’, and how much do you want to bet they would not believe a word of my story?”

None of them had an answer to my question. It was the untold truth that they wouldn’t even hear out what I had to say. There was only one sentence for a changeling, and it was hardly what you could call pleasant.

“So what will you do?” Flare asked finally. “You wouldn’t have come back here if you had a plan.”

“I don’t know, and that’s the problem,” I said, sighing.

“Have you tried talking?”

I scowled darkly. “You think that would work? They’d stop listening as soon as they realized what I was.”

“Every Thursday, the princesses open up the court to citizens for questions, complaints or anything they wish to discuss,” Flare explained. “Why don’t my brother and I go with you to try and explain your plight?”

It wasn’t like I had anything else to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“For the last time,” Boulder snapped, “we are going through with this even if we have to drag you into court.”

On the walk up to the castle, this had seemed like a worthwhile venture, perhaps even better than my original idea. That confidence had died rapidly on the approach to the gates. I feared what awaited me there, as though it was a monster. There were spectres and ghosts everywhere I looked, gazing at me with noiseless eyes, ready to call me out for what I was. It felt as though the whole world was screaming my presence, yet the grey and purple-maned unicorn attracted not so much as a second glance.

Flare had taken note of my increasing worry, leaning over to whisper something in my ear. He had effectively led me into a trap, explaining that I couldn’t run away without arousing suspicion and he wouldn’t let me just walk away. At first, it was as though he betrayed me, but gradually, I realized he was just trying to do what was best. There was nothing put at risk by talking to them, and certainly nothing which I couldn’t go back on.

Still, that feeling of dread hadn't diminished or lessened in tempo as we waited in line. In fact, it only got worse. I was so on edge that I asked them if we could come back another time, repeatedly. Self-conscious of my every action, I could almost imagine the puddle of sweat forming beneath me, trailed by the occasional few paces forward as the next group entered. Finally, we stood before the doors, awaiting our chance. The wait stretched into hours within the confines of my mind, when in reality, less than five minutes passed.

The doors swung open, and a group of ponies trotted out, looking suitably disgusted. I guess things hadn’t gone how they had hoped. Too bad for them.

“Enter!” the guard to the left of the door commanded, remaining motionless save for his mouth.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat as we complied, stepping inside. The doors slammed shut with an absolute clang, entrapping us in the realms of those two witches seated high upon their thrones. The sister alicorns awaited us at the far end of the hall, a massive and ridiculously oversized room. The scale alone must have been in part to humble and intimidate the minds of those who entered. Stationed around the edges of the rom were a variety of guards, a mix of both pegasi and unicorns, all anticipating every move, watching for a sign of fault.

The two brothers bowed once they judged us to be closed enough, an act which I refused to follow. Even though it would appear irregular, I still had my pride. I would be damned before I lowered my head in respect of someone who thought themselves better, especially when I knew what they were responsible for.

“Rise,” Celestia commanded. The words of the deceiver flowed like music throughout the hall, instilling a utter replica of harmony into the air. Her eyes lifted from the book on the arm of her chair, in a manner which suggested we were interrupting her work.

Next to her sat Luna, on a throne just a tad shorter, as to leave Celestia the dominant presence in the room. Unlike her sister’s, her eyes had not been focused on a page, but instead, the room before her, looking for intricacy to amuse her. Unanimous in the two, however, was the undeniable stench of pure, absolute boredom. They’d sooner be receiving a massage, paid for by the pockets of every pony within Equestria, than listening to those ponies’ silly little wants or needs.

“Thank you for seeing us, Your Highness,” Boulder began, missing every detail I had derived. “I’ll try to be brief. We’re concerned with the wording of the recent royal proclamation regarding changelings, and how-”

Celestia raised a hoof, silencing Boulder. “I apologize for interrupting, but questions about the bill can be answered by the royal guard. If you would like, I could arrange a meeting with an officer.”

“Thank you, but it goes a little beyond the wording or specific question about the bill. We’re concerned about the bill in its entirety.”

“I’m afraid I do not follow,” Celestia said, the boredom vanishing in place of bafflement. It had a similar effect upon the Lunar princess, who sported a small frown upon her face. Clearly neither liked where this was headed.

Flare leapt in, when his brother faltered upon seeing their expressions. “There are a number of problems with it and the effect it has had. While we can appreciate the effort for trying to capture the changelings who invaded Canterlot, I fear the bill harms more than it helps.”

“Explain,” commanded Luna.

“We’ve come into the city to try and sell our harvest, but the paranoia ever since we left home has been unbelievable. We’ve seen ponies beat other ponies in an effort to make them give up the ‘fact’ that they're a changeling, when in reality they were just doing something slightly suspicious, which on any other day would have passed unnoticed.”

Colour me impressed. Flare can lie just as smoothly as any changeling I’ve ever met.

“We fail to see how that would be a direct cause of our proclamation.”

“It highlights the situation and places a goal on capturing changelings, no matter the cost,” he explained.

Celestia shook her head, miming sadness. “I’m afraid there is little that can be done. I can understand where you’re coming from, but the Royal Guard is already stretched to capacity, and placing untrained ponies in charge of security is not an option, because of what you’ve described.”

Even though neither of them showed it, I could tell that the two ponies beside me were surprised. To hear of their ever-so-wise princess placing the security of her own rule above that of her subjects, them included, must have come as a jarring shake.

“How can you be sure that all changelings are guilty?” Boulder asked suddenly.

The question caught her by surprise. “I’m sorry, but could you repeat that?”

“How can you be sure that all changelings are guilty?”

The immediate silence was mired with disbelief, only broken by Luna’s stammer. “W-What?”

“Answer the question!” I commanded angrily, growing weary with the false preaching. Ignoring the pleading look both brothers gave me, I awaited their response.

“I never claimed they were,” Celestia said. “As it stands, however, there is no indication that they are friendly, and their parasitic nature is well documented. Even if they were entirely innocent, I would still have to expel them from Equestria by the risk they pose to our subjects.”

So they pleaded ignorance. I figured they would.

“What do you mean by ‘well documented?’”

“My little pony,” she began in a motherly tone, as if lecturing me on my mistakes, “There are many documents in the royal library which detail changeling physiology to great extent. I’ve met many of the ponies who conducted these studies over the years, and all were of great integrity.”

“You say ponies did them, but how many were done by changelings?” I demanded.

“Finding a changeling willing to assist was very difficult. The few that they made contact with were highly aggressive.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” I snapped irritably.

“None of them were completed by changelings.”

“Then how can you be sure that you are even right? How can you be sure that you are not reading lies?”

Something shifted in her gaze, but she managed to keep her voice constant and falsely kind. “All information points to that being unlikely, but if that were the case, we would reevaluate our position.”

Politicians had an interesting ability to twist words until barely an ounce of truth remained. More than likely, what she meant by ‘reevaluate’ was they would pause for a moment to laugh at the notion of an innocent changeling, before banishing them to the wastes. This realization led me to another. Unless I could draw them out of their shells, I would never get a direct answer.

Whatever emotion they felt inside, I noticed, didn’t extend past that point. For instance, when we had first arrived, they had been bored, yet, they appeared to care and hang off every word I said. There was a disconnect between what they felt and how they acted. Even though I could tell a lot by emotions, it was nothing compared to feelings and words in unity.

But how could I do it?

Most ponies I’d met tend to lose themselves at emotional extremes. Absolute excitement, fear and sadness, are all impossible to mask. The problem was, I had no hope with most of them. Short of releasing Discord, there was no way they’d see fear. Short of letting them relive a loved one’s death, no sadness. But anger and rage; those were two I could work with, coaxing the flames till they burned furiously.

Now what would set her off? My eyes danced around the room, before coming to settle on her sister, fidgeting on her throne.

Perfect.

“So you would have no problem with me treating you with the same level of suspicion then, correct?”

Both of them shared a puzzled look. “Why would you treat us suspicion?”

Tilting my head slightly, I looked to Luna, pointing with a small nod. It took a few moments, but upon understanding what I implied, Celestia’s eyes flickered with something as I looked back to her.

“Come to think of it, it’s not just her, either,” I continued, pausing as if I just recalled something. “What about you? What is someone supposed to take from a pony banishing their sister to the moon for a thousand years? Surely nothing good, I imagine. Imagine what’s in their heart, what they would do to anyone else, if they’d do that to their own flesh and blood.”

“Enough,” Celestia commanded, but it only came out as a whisper, tainted with grief; my cue to continue.

“Oh, but why stop just there. What about the fight the two of you had and the destruction it brought into the world? Have many ponies lost their lives in the crossfire, solely because of your sisterly spat?”

“Amethyst,” Boulder hissed into my ear, “What the hell are you doing?”

I ignored him, pressing my advantage. “Best of all, everytime I hear a story about what happened to all the alicorns, they always seem to end poorly for everyone in contact with them.”

“Enough,” she repeated, with more force and venom.

“I mean, even your parents cau-”

The windows shook violently as Luna roared the command. I didn’t even need eyes to tell me I had succeeded. Now with just a little more prodding I could see what truly lay beneath their skin.

“Is there a problem?” I asked innocently. “I’m just using the logic you set forth to draw a conclusion. I’m sorry you’re not proud of what you’ve done in your past.”

“Shut thy mouth and remove thyself from our presence,” Luna spat. “We won’t tolerate anymore of your lies.”

“So you’re calling what has been catalogued, documented, even admitted by yourself... lies?”

Luna looked ready to take a bite out of me, before Celestia laid a wing on her shoulder, calming her slightly.

“What you are saying is not even remotely similar, nor does it follow the same logic in any light,” Celestia said, struggling to remain calm. I could tell my words had struck her deeper than her sister. Only self-control kept that level head on those shoulders. She just needed one more push.

“I really don’t see how,” I replied.

“Because changelings...” she stammered.

“Because what, you spoiled bitch?”

You know, I never really thought it would be a simple insult that set her over the edge. It was all I could do to not run for the door at the terrifying change in her demeanor. “Because they're all guilty!” she snapped.

And there you have it, the core of her beliefs, brought to light by some simple prodding. Turned out, I had been right all along, vindicated in my beliefs. The room was deathly still, following her explosive announcement. I took a moment to examine the guards along either side of the room. They all looked like the well trained dogs they were, straining at their leashes to try and attack me for what I had said to their master.

“So whatever happened to ‘some changelings could be innocent?’” I asked her. “Because, ‘all changelings are guilty,’ sounds nothing like that.”

Somehow, the colour drained from her face as she realized what she had said. Her secret still rang in the air, whispering to all those who could listen. The guards might have been wearing earplugs for all the effect it had on them.

Another few seconds passed before she found her voice, her face and words tinged in anger. “You are dismissed.”

Oh. Since she couldn’t get what she wanted from us, she abused the power of her station to get what she desired. Pulling rank, as the guards would say. The world didn’t work like this. You couldn’t simply remove a problem because it bothered you; you had to face the music. I was going to make sure of that.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No,” I repeated. Hers was the voice of a spoiled brat, used to getting whatever she desired. “I am not leaving here until you explain why you lied to us.”

“You’ve done nothing but insult us to get a rise out of us. We will not tolerate your presence any longer. You are dismissed.”

“Amethyst,” Boulder whispered in my ear, “Let it go.”

I ignored him. “Is this how you deal with everything? You don’t like it, so you just push it onto someone else? I’m starting to wonder how you even came to rule our country, and if you are even fit to lead.” My treasonous statement rung in the air for a long time before she spoke.

“Guards, escort these ponies off the castle ground. We will not hear anything more they have to say.”

...

Damn it all to hell.

I was sick of hiding in the shadows, trying to influence my life through subtle words, nudges, rumours. Teacher had taught me that particular strength of changelings relentlessly, but no matter how much she gave me, she could never alter how I had been raised. Although in body I was a changeling, in mind I was a pony. It had long been a struggle to find my place in the world. Ponies recoiled away from me almost instinctively, yet changelings shunned me because I was contaminated and impure.

No, I was done running away. It was time to confront my demons and charge them with their sins. I was done being a whimsical plaything of fate, to be battered around like a toy mouse. Here was where I would assume control of my story; my life.

Tongues of violet flame washed over me, washing away the disguise. I could feel my body churn as it shifted, becoming what it truly was. I matched Celestia’s horrified gaze the entire time, unblinking as I stared damningly at the white bitch. The hall fell into silence, all motion ceasing, as I stood before them, visible for all to see.

“Tell me,” I said to my captive audience. “Tell me how I am guilty by birth. Tell me how I am a parasite and a blight to Equestria.” I paused, looking down at the ground for a brief moment, summoning my courage. Malice was all that remained in my gaze when I looked back up to meet Celestia’s once more.

“Now, do I have your attention?”

Author's Note:

The reason for the chapter being taken down, was Alondro correctly called me out on the character of Celestia. I've made some adjustments, putting more emphasis on Amethyst's interpretation of her as a opposed to wrongly portraying her character in an entirely negative light.