SAPR

by Scipio Smith

More Than Nothing

More Than Nothing

“We defeated the changelings with no magic at all, they found a new leader, and… they’re all kinda good now,” Starlight said, answering a question from Twilight similar to the one just posed by Sunset.

“What did you miss?” Cinder asked, nodding in Starlight’s direction. “That, apparently.”

“'Apparently'?” Sunset asked.

“Well, I didn’t see anything but the defeating of changelings, so I’ll have to take Starlight’s word for the rest,” Cinder admitted. “But we – I – absolutely defeated the changelings. But I’m not so sure about them all being ‘good’ now, in as much as they were ever bad.”

“What do you mean?”

The pile of rubble which lay against the western edge of the platform, not far at all from the drop down to the base of the hive, began to shift, the stones rustling before they were flung rudely in all directions by the creature that emerged out from under them.

This, Cinder presumed, was Chrysalis, the Queen of the Changelings; she was taller than the other changelings were or had been, as tall as Princes Celestia, and like Princess Celestia, she had a horn atop her head and wings growing out of her back, but her horn, though it was long, was as black as the rest of her, crooked and holed; in fact, it wasn’t the only part of her that seemed incomplete; her legs down near the hooves, her bug-like wings, her tail, all of them were holed like clothes on which the moths had been feasting.

She emerged from underneath the rubble snarling, baring her fangs, hissing wildly, her horn aglow with green magical light.

“Stay behind me,” Cinder said, putting Sunset down and stepping over her, placing her scale-armoured – she had lost most of her actual armour during the battle with Pharynx – body between Sunset and the changeling queen.

“Hey!” Sunset protested, as though she hadn’t just been captured by these very same changelings.

However, it soon became apparent to Cinder that there was not going to be a resumption of the battle. Princess Celestia, Princess Twilight, two other alicorns of whose acquaintance Cinder had not yet had the pleasure but whom she took to be Princesses Luna and Cadance, Princess Twilight’s friends, Starlight Glimmer, Discord, not to mention all of the transformed – and apparently reformed – changelings, all were arrayed against Queen Chrysalis; their expressions were grim and spoke of a readiness to fight if need be. All the alicorns save Princess Celestia had their own horns glowing, magic ready at their command.

The magical glow around Chrysalis’ horn died out; the anger in her green eyes died with it, her expression turning from one of fury to one of fear as she began to understand that she was without her army.

There was a part of Cinder – the part of her, no doubt, which had guaranteed that she would not arrive in this land transformed into a pony – which wanted to see the power of Equestria’s rulers and its champions first hand, unloaded upon an enemy of the realm.

But, of course, this was not that kind of a place, and so, Starlight Glimmer stepped forwards, walking calmly and without any fear that Cinder could see towards her adversary. Of course, it might be said that Starlight had very little to be afraid of in such circumstances, but there was always the danger of a hidden dagger, a last defiant strike, even in defeat. No matter how stacked the odds might be in her favour, nevertheless, Starlight was brave to do it.

“When Twilight and her friends defeated me, I chose to run away and seek revenge,” Starlight declared. “You don’t have to. You can be the leader your subjects deserve.”

A little rough on the ‘new leader’ you proclaimed mere moments ago, Cinder thought, and yet, as she watched Starlight extend her hoof out towards Chrysalis, she could not help but be touched by it. It was easy to mock the idea of befriending your enemies, of bringing them into the fold, it was easy to find it naïve in the abstract, but to watch it happen was to witness that there was a certain simple nobility about it. Starlight had won, Equestria had triumphed, but rather than lord their defeat or crow their victory or even to destroy the beaten foe who lay prostrate before them, Starlight offered her a hoof up, offered Chrysalis a chance to be no more the vanquished but to share in the rewards of victory. Starlight even offered to treat her as a queen. Mistralian lords and conquering emperors had been less generous.

Mind you, I don’t suppose that is too surprising.

For a moment, Cinder thought that Chrysalis would take the hoof that Starlight offered, take the generosity that she offered; for a moment, as she looked away, the Queen of the Changelings looked stricken with melancholy. As she raised her moth-eaten hoof, it seemed as though she might be on the verge of tears.

Then she slapped Starlight’s hoof away and rose to her hooves and her full height, snarling, “There is no revenge you could ever conceive of that will come close to what I will exact upon you one day, Starlight Glimmer!” And with those parting words – and before anyone else could ruin their effect with a reply – she turned and leapt off the platform. Cinder guessed – but did not see – that her wings would carry her safely down to the ground below.

No one seemed in any great hurry to stop her.

Cinder folded her arms. “You know, I probably shouldn’t say this, but I think that was rather impressive.”

Sunset’s hooves tapped lightly upon the floor as she walked out from behind Cinder to stand at her side. She was giving Sunset a bit of an old-fashioned look which signalled that, in her opinion at least, Cinder was right: she shouldn’t have said it.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Cinder murmured.

“You just said you admire her for refusing help,” Sunset said. “Refusing friendship.”

“Just because we’re together doesn’t mean that I am obliged to think as you do,” Cinder pointed out. “Just because we’re in your country doesn’t mean I’m obliged to think as your people do. And I know that you are not so insufferably good that you can deny that that had style.”

Sunset hesitated, glancing around to see that no one was close enough to overhear them. “Okay, it was pretty cool, in abstract,” she admitted, “but I doubt that she’ll get any joy from it-”

“I stand by what I told you after the Beacon dance,” Cinder declared. “Those who most want us to put our so-called wellness before justice, those who want us to move forward past the wrongs that have been done to us, those who preach such things most loudly do so because they have a vested interest in nobody challenging the means by which they became so powerful. Sometimes, we must suffer for the sake of higher principles, of which revenge is one.”

“Her subjects decided they wanted something and someone different, and better, by the sounds of what Starlight said,” Sunset pointed out. “Where is the great injustice under which she labours?”

Cinder smirked. “Why, Sunset, I didn’t expect you to be such a republican.”

Sunset rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t appear that the changelings are about to start a democracy,” she said. “Rather, they have exchanged a tyrant for a good… do you know who their new leader is?”

“I have a sinking suspicion that I do,” Cinder murmured. “In which case, it will be a good king.” For a certain value of good.

“Anyway,” Sunset went on, “Chrysalis would have been happier if she had taken Starlight’s hoof, and you know that as well as I do, or you would not be here.”

“I accept that you are correct,” Cinder replied, “but…her kingdom has been usurped, and for all Starlight’s talk of being the leader they deserve, those she once led have rejected her. All she has left is her pride, and you and I both know how hard it is to surrender one’s pride once it is all one has to cling to. Yes, I understand that there is more to life than power and rule, that there are other things worth more and more fulfilling, but… she hasn’t had the opportunity to learn that yet.”

“She was just offered the opportunity,” Sunset pointed out.

“These things take time, as well you know,” Cinder reminded her. “It took work on your part to get me where I am today, and you never asked me to… you never demanded that I humble myself. You never asked me to admit that I was wrong in front of Pyrrha or Blake. You didn’t force me onto my knees to abase myself; you raised me up higher than I was before. I… I owe you thanks for that.”

“No,” Sunset said, “you don’t. And Starlight didn’t seek to humiliate Chrysalis.”

“To the proud, even generosity can seem humiliating,” Cinder murmured. “Perhaps, in time, she will receive an offer of compassion more to her liking.”

“Perhaps,” Sunset allowed. “But how much damage will she do seeking revenge between then and now?”

“If you’re concerned about that, do you want me to go after her?” Cinder asked.

“I can’t imagine she’ll take your hand where she refused Starlight,” Sunset said.

“Maybe she won’t, but in that case, perhaps she should be-”

“No,” Sunset said. “No, we don’t do that here. That’s not our way.”

“You said yourself it may lead to trouble down the line,” Cinder pointed out. “In Remnant-”

“We are not in Remnant,” Sunset said, softly but firmly. “We will not stain this land with blood. Everypony has decided to let her go, then let her go; whatever she does next, I am sure that Twilight and the others will be equal to her evil.”

Cinder hesitated, but then nodded. “Very well,” she said softly. “In Mistral, do as the Mistralians do.” She paused for a moment. “War is a terrible thing, they say, and I can believe it. I have… caused the thing that makes war terrible. And yet, a wise man once said that if you speak only of war's horrors, if you teach war only as the greatest ill that may befall a people, then you will never comprehend, or be able to explain, why people of sound mind ever went to war. Why did the Emperor of Mistral hazard his entire kingdom, his rule, the future of his dynasty upon the hazards of the battlefield?”

“Because it was easier than negotiating a fair settlement of the issues at hand?” Sunset suggested.

“Or because there is a moment when the banners fly and the drums beat and all the noble warriors of Mistral draw their swords and proclaim that they will win you all your rights and claims when the horrors of war are nowhere to be seen and it seems the most glorious thing in the world to rush to arms?” Cinder suggested. “In the same way, you will never understand what makes someone like Chrysalis spurn an offer like she received from Starlight unless you are willing to concede an appeal, however misguided, to daring defiance and insisting that you will go your own way. To fight, and not to yield.”

“Oh, I understand the appeal,” Sunset said. “I just wish I didn’t.”

“What… what happened?”

Cinder turned around to see Pharynx hovering above the hole that Cinder had made in the floor when she had crawled up the hive to get to Sunset. He, unlike every other changeling here, had not transformed; Cinder was able to recognise him not only by his voice but by the fact that he looked exactly as he had done when he was fighting Cinder.

She wondered how many other changelings on the lower levels of the hive had similarly not transformed; had they also failed to ‘turn good,’ as it were?

It mattered little; it was a simplistic formulation anyway, and Cinder found she was not too much worried about the threat of a changeling counterattack from below; without the drain on the magic of all non-changelings, they stood little chance of success.

What more concerned her was Pharynx. He did not look angry, as Chrysalis had done; he looked shocked – as best as Cinder could tell, his eyes were wide – and as he sank to the floor, looking around at a people now utterly unlike him, he looked defeated too.

And Cinder could not help but pity him for that. She had admired Chrysalis’ refusal to give in, but the truth was that she saw more of herself in Pharynx: a loyal warrior, used and then abandoned, left without a purpose. What would he do in this new order? What place did he have amongst these changed changelings? What awaited the warrior in a world that had forsworn battle?

“Excuse me a moment,” Cinder murmured to Sunset, and walked slowly and as softly as she could over to where Pharynx had sank down.

She sat beside him, facing the same way that he did, looking at his people who were no longer his people any more.

“What happened is that we won the battle,” Cinder said, without any malice or triumph in her voice. “And that you did. Queen Chrysalis is fled, and the changelings, as you can see, are changed.”

“How?” Pharynx demanded. “Changed to what?”

“Don’t ask me; I was down below keeping you company, remember?” Cinder said. “It seems to be… something better than before.”

Pharynx snorted. “They look ridiculous.”

Cinder could not resist a slight smile. “Well, yes,” she conceded. “That too.”

“Black is a fearsome colour,” Pharynx declared. “Red is intimidating to our enemies. Who is supposed to be intimidated by that?”

“I think the intent is that you won’t need to intimidate your enemies, because you’ll have no enemies from now on,” Cinder told him. “See, your new leader is over there, negotiating friendship with Princess Celestia.”

Pharynx looked at where Princess Celestia stood with one particular changeling who stood taller than the rest; his body was green with orange accents at the nape of his neck, and he had orange antlers like a deer growing out of the sides of his head; his wings were long and purple and sparkled in the sunlight.

“Who is that?” he demanded.

“I expect it’s Thorax?”

“Thorax?” Pharynx spat. “My brother is the new leader of the hive?”

“Your brother?” Cinder repeated. “Thorax is your brother?”

“Uh huh.”

Cinder blinked. “I… never would have guessed.”

“I get that a lot,” Pharynx muttered. He paused. “Where did the queen go?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“Do you know anything?” Pharynx demanded.

“I know she went to seek her vengeance,” Cinder said.

Pharynx took a moment to reply. “So she just left? Just like that? She just… left us?”

“If… if you were to join her, I doubt anyone would try and stop you.”

Pharynx was silent for a moment. He stared at Thorax, where he stood talking with Princess Celestia. “No,” he said.

“No?”

“The hive is my home,” Pharynx said. “The swarm is my home. These are my people… even if I don’t recognise them anymore. Queen Chrysalis might be able to just turn her back on that, but I can’t. I won’t.”

Cinder nodded. “Those in power rarely reward the loyalty of those who serve them. They may rely on you more, but only as a tool, a weapon.” She thought back to what the false Sunset had said, about duty. Small wonder that there had been many in the hive eager to overthrow their queen. “You can be more than that now.”

“'More'?” Pharynx asked. “All my life, I’ve been a warrior, a protector of the hive. I worked my way to become head of Patrol because I wanted to keep the hive safe, because I wanted to keep them safe. If I can’t do that… if they don’t need me to do that, then… then I’m not more than I was; I’m not even what I was, I’m less.”

“And yet you would stay for them?”

Pharynx shrugged. “They’re mine,” he said. “Even if they don’t want me anymore.”

“Even in a time of peace, there are still shadows,” Cinder told him. “Even a land of harmony requires those with the courage to defend it. I do not believe that your people are done with need of you yet, though they may not realise it now.”

Pharynx looked at her. “Why are you telling me this? I’m your enemy.”

“You were my enemy,” Cinder said. “Now the battle is over, and we need not be enemies.”

Pharynx said, “That still doesn’t explain why you’re telling me this.”

“Because I used to think that the worst thing in the world was to feel powerless,” Cinder explained. “But now I understand that the true worst thing in the world is to feel unable to help those you love. To feel as though they wouldn’t miss you if you weren’t here, because you are of no use to them. If you ever feel that way, remember my words: your day will come, I guarantee it.”

Pharynx was silent for a few moments. “I’ll remember,” he said. “I’ll try and remember.”

“As I will remember our fight,” Cinder said as she got to her feet. “It was a pleasure.”

Pharynx looked up at her and paused. After a moment, he offered her a silent nod.

Cinder turned away. He had a lot to think about, but hopefully, he thought about what Cinder had said in the days to come if things went badly, or he felt like an outsider. He had been loyal to the old regime, true, but Cinder judged him a good fellow; she liked him better than she liked his brother, to tell the truth. She hoped that he could find a place in the new Changeling hive.

She hoped a space was made for him.

Sunset was smiling at her as Cinder rejoined her, and smiling in a particularly smug and rather knowing way at that.

“What?” Cinder demanded.

“Nothing,” Sunset replied disingenuously. “That was a nice thing you did.”

“Tried to do,” Cinder corrected her. “I don’t know if it will stick, and don’t expect me to make a habit of it.”

Sunset kept on smiling – until the smile faded as she asked, “Cinder? Where’s Cardin?”

“Oh, that’s right; we need to get him out of the dungeon.”

“What in Equestria is Cardin doing in the dungeon?!”

---

Cardin slammed his tankard down on the wooden table. “You forgot? You just forgot?”

Cinder smirked. “In fairness, you are very forgettable.”

Cardin glared at her. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “There are… I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing; there’s a good boy,” Cinder said. “Besides, it wasn’t like you were in there for any length of time. And compared to the cells at Freeport, it looked very nice.”

“Yes, okay, it was nice, the food was good, and the guards were very considerate once I stopped struggling, but still,” Cardin said, “you forgot me?”

“There was a lot going on,” Cinder insisted.

“She’s very sorry,” Sunset said.

“Don’t apologise on my behalf; if I’m sorry, I’ll say so myself,” Cinder declared.

“Let’s just stop arguing, okay?” Sunset suggested. “Cardin’s out, I’m out, we’re at a celebration; let’s enjoy ourselves.”

Discord’s initial suggestion of a celebratory tea at Fluttershy’s had been vetoed, if only by Fluttershy’s quiet dismay at the prospect of hosting so many guests at such short notice; fortunately, Discord could take them all absolutely anywhere he liked, so – after a brief stop at Canterlot to rescue Cardin and unmask the fake Celestia, Luna, and Sunset, the last of whom at least seemed quite glad to be going home, and another brief stop at Ponyville to take care of the fake Princess Twilight and her friends – he had deposited them all at Starlight Glimmer’s old village, where the Sunset Festival was still ongoing.

And Starlight Glimmer was throwing herself into it. Where previously, she had fled at the prospect of taking any active role in proceedings, now, she was everywhere, choosing banners, organising events, taking the village in hand once more and showing them how it was done.

Small wonder that they had been so keen to have her back; Cinder was left with the impression they were rather lost without her.

Ah, well. Their loss is Ponyville’s gain, I suppose.

For their part, Sunset, Cinder, and Cardin were sitting at a wooden bench situated two thirds of the way down the only street in the little settlement, with tankards of cider – non-alcoholic, which was probably for the best, considering that they needed to keep up a good impression for the locals – in front of them, watching the festival come together under Starlight’s supervision.

No one was paying them much attention, and at this moment, Cinder didn’t mind that at all.

“So, this festival,” Cardin said, sipping from his cider. “What are we celebrating?”

“It’s the Sunset Festival,” Sunset said, as though that was an explanation.

“The sun sets every day; what’s so special about this one?” Cardin asked. He paused. “They’re not celebrating you, are they?”

“No,” Sunset assured him. “Although, when I was a filly, I pretended they were.”

“Of course you did,” Cinder said, grinning as she took a drink. The taste danced upon her tongue.

“So what are we celebrating?”

“We’re bidding farewell to summer,” Sunset explained. “Summer is welcomed in at the beginning with the Summer Sun Celebration and the rising of the first sun of the season, and then bid farewell with the setting of the last.”

Cardin nodded. “So, we’ve talked about what it was like for me in the dungeons; what was it like for you being captured again?”

Sunset hesitated. “Well, um…”

“You don’t have to say if it’s too much,” Cinder told her.

Sunset’s face turned a little red. “You see… it’s not that, exactly, it’s more that… it was actually quite nice.”

Silence greeted this pronouncement.

“'Quite nice,'” Cardin said flatly.

“Yeah,” replied Sunset shamefacedly.

“Being captured, replaced, and imprisoned in a cocoon was quite nice?” Cinder asked.

“I didn’t know I was in a cocoon,” Sunset explained. “I thought… I suppose you could say that I was dreaming. It makes sense, actually; if the changelings wanted to feed off our love, then they would want us to be… generating love or feeling it or something like that. They wouldn’t want us to know that we were imprisoned or rage against it or try to escape; that wouldn’t generate love at all.”

“I suppose, when you put it like that,” Cinder muttered. “Although not every dream is guaranteed to produce a surplus of love, either. In fact, I can think of many that would not.”

“It wasn’t just a dream; it was...” Sunset paused for a moment. “It was the dream.” She drained her cider. “I was back in Remnant. I was at Beacon; they’d rebuilt it. Or it had never fallen at all; my mind’s a little unclear on that. One way that it was very like a dream is that the details are kind of hard to remember after the fact. I suppose it must have been a world where the tower never fell because Professor Ozpin was there too. Alive, obviously, and not reincarnated either, just Professor Ozpin as we knew him. He told me… he told me everything was okay; we’d won the war, Salem was gone, and although the grimm were still out there, they weren’t going to pose nearly as much of a threat to anyone. And my teammates were there, and Blake… I don’t remember Blake’s teammates being there, and I don’t remember really caring that they weren’t. But Pyrrha, Jaune, Ruby… and we could just study and hang out and have a normal time at school without needing to worry about secret organisations or relics or Maidens or any of that stuff; it was… it was really great. It was peaceful; it was… it was everything I wanted.

“Would you have preferred that I left you there?” Cinder asked dryly.

Sunset snorted. “No,” she replied. “Although, if you’d waited a little longer, I would have found out what you had planned for our first date.”

Cinder grinned. “I’m glad now that I didn’t leave you in there any longer; I don’t need competition from your subconscious. So I was there, in your dream.”

“Of course you were; where else would you be?”

“Nowhere in particular; I’m just glad to hear it,” Cinder replied casually. “Although, why is it my responsibility to choose a date for us? You could arrange a date if you wanted to.”

“Because it was my fantasy, and I had the prerogative of being pampered, I suppose,” Sunset said. “But, if you prefer, I will come up with something. Since we’re going to be coming out into Canterlot, I probably should.”

“Is there anything civilised to do in Canterlot, or is it frightfully provincial?” Cinder asked.

“I’ll find us something fun,” Sunset promised. “Don’t worry.”

“Do you two want me to leave you alone?” Cardin asked.

“No, we’re just talking,” Sunset insisted. She drank from her tankard of cider. “Thank you for coming for me.”

Cinder grinned toothily. “Thank you for being captured.”

Sunset’s eyebrows rose.

“You think I’m joking, don’t you?” Cinder said. “Well, I am joking, somewhat, but… ever since I gave up the powers of the Fall Maiden – the powers that you gave away like old clothes-”

“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Ever since I gave up my powers, I have felt…” Cinder trailed off. “I understand that there is more to life than power, I understand that the pursuit of power is hollow and futile, I understand that my desires were leading me down a path to self-destruction as surely as any tragic hero ever walked such a path before, but… I understand that it is more important to- to love and be loved than it is to be able to command the elements or terrify people with the majesty of your might.” She reached out and laid a hand on Sunset’s hoof. “And yet, nevertheless… to be powerful, it is not nothing. Not to me and not in the world that we live in. I gave my power to you, freely and without coercion, and although I would make that choice again, nevertheless, I felt… useless. Pointless. Nothing.”

“You were never nothing,” Sunset said.

“Was I not?” Cinder asked. “I couldn’t rescue you from the Sun Queen, I couldn’t help you defend Freeport from the grimm, I couldn’t help you against those otherworldly grimm who stalked us from Patch, I couldn’t defend myself against Grogar. I hung around, and I talked, and I couldn’t even make you feel better. I had no power. Without your magic, without even anything comparable to Ruby’s silver eyes, I was… just there. Waiting as you didn’t notice me, watching as you fell apart, but… but feeling too much indebted to you to tell you were falling apart.”

Sunset leaned forward upon the wooden table. “And now?”

“And now… now, I feel differently,” Cinder said. “I helped to save you, I fought a battle worthy of a great warrior, I… feel better, if not perhaps for the right reasons.”

“You were never nothing,” Sunset insisted. “Never.”

“So you say,” Cinder murmured. “But after the day I’ve had, I can believe it.” She grinned. “It’s good to be back, isn’t it?”

“Indubitably,” Sunset replied. Her tankard was covered in the green glow of magic as she raised it in the air. “To being back.”

“To being more than nothing,” Cinder replied.

Cider sloshed out of their tankards as they thumped them together.

“We’re back,” Cinder declared. “Let all of Remnant beware.”

Comments

[Mastermind4892]

We are rekindled and renewed! Let Remnant beware!

[Spellflame]

My question is what happens to their equestrian magic?

[Mister Morden]

Small technical comment first:

“What in Equestria is Cardin doing in the dungeon?!”

Cardin slammed his tankard down on the wooden table. “You forgot? You just forgot?”

Should there be a line break or something between these lines to signal a scene change?

On the chapter itself, I enjoyed it. Though I was curious if the presence of Sunset and Cinder would change the way Chrysalis reacted to her defeat. But it seems that bit played out exactly the same.

Cinder's talk with Pharynx was helpful to both of them I think. And I hope he takes her words to heart.

And now, both Sunset and Cinder have mentally recharged and reoriented themselves... Let's see what happens to them when they get back to Remnant! I bet Cinder gets arrested!

[ForSpite]

Good to see Cinder feeling better.

Small wonder that they had been so keen to have her back; Cinder was left with the impression they were rather lost without her.

Makes some sense. Even removed from the influence of Sunset's cult, they're still the people who found the cult's promises initially appealing, who weren't taking particular joy in their cutie marks.

[alfonso_rd_33]

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What 11090520 said...

Regarding a link...

https://www.fimfiction.net/story/441859/59/sunsets-isekai/an-isekais-isekai-hangout-pt-1-isekai-1-ascendance-of-a-bookworm