• Published 13th May 2022
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The Last Changeling War - Coyote de La Mancha



Her failures are legion, her power unquestioned, her madness unparalelled. The endgame of Queen Chrysalis, monarch of the Changeling hive.

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Chapter Four: Patterns and Balefire.

Sunday Tea at the palace was one of Sunrise's favorite things about her new home. Every week, getting to spend time with Twilight and Luna at the same time, plus the other royals...

(Well, okay, sometimes Celestia had work, and likewise Cadence and Shining, but the spirit was there.)

...plus, whenever they were in town, Sunset and her Twilight. In fact, the whole thing had been the human Twilight's idea.

Other ponies had been invited, of course. The rest of the Elements, naturally, as had some adopted nephew of Celestia's that Sunrise had yet to meet.

But Prince Blueblood was apparently often busy with his own duties, though he'd phrased it more as a rain check. Apparently even he and Celestia generally saw one another on a monthly basis, if that.

Meanwhile, Royal Tea Time just hadn't interested Rainbow Dash or Applejack that much. Words like 'fancy' and 'high-falootin' had been tossed around, though good-naturedly.

And apparently Fluttershy already had a regular weekly tea with Discord. In response to which, everypony had of course agreed that he would be invited as well, though she'd still demurred. It was only after the yellow mare had left that everypony there had breathed a sigh of grateful relief.

Well, everyone but Sunrise. She'd known about Discord from some of the histories she'd read, of course. But an in-person meeting would obviously have been something completely different. And seriously: an ancient god of chaos, pre-dating Equestria itself? To say she'd been curious would have been an understatement.

Besides, he was a friend of Fluttershy's. How bad could he be?

For her part, Rarity had agreed that she would be just delighted to pop by occasionally, but also pointed out that Sundays were her family time with Sweetie Belle.

She had been by once, and it had been great. But apparently Rarity sightings would be, well, rare.

And Pinkie Pie, astonishingly, had also demurred. She had simply winked, saying, "Nah, I think you guys need family time too. Thanks, though!" And then she'd bounced away merrily, off to do whatever it was that Pinkie Pie did.

And so, Sunday Tea at the palace had gradually evolved into a semi-formal-but-mostly-not tea party between royalty, their family, and Sunrise. Everypony just enjoying tea, munching away, and generally letting their manes down.

And, gradually, Sunrise had begun to accept that she, too, was family here.

Granted, it should have felt like things were moving too fast to say that she and Luna were family. But at the same time... she really couldn't argue the point. Nor did she want to. Whether it was because she was a pony, or because it was Luna, she wasn't sure. She just knew that, when she allowed herself to relax, it felt... right.

Meanwhile, having Sunset as a sister was... weird. Like, really weird.

It was great, great beyond words. But, given their history, it also redefined the idea of weirdness to a whole new level. Like Sunrise had somehow graduated from Plucky Tot levels of weirdness to God Tier Weird with no warning whatsoever.

Not to mention that it was even weirder having Twilight – the human Twilight – as a friend in any capacity.

But over the last few months, with the humans visiting for every-other to every-third weekend and Sunrise getting closer to her new family, weird was getting to be pretty good. And good, in turn, was in danger of becoming normal. And, with the ease of familiarity and the acceptance of family, there was a degree of relaxation that...

Well, part of her tensed at it, paradoxically warning her against getting too used to trusting others, or being able to relax. Another part worried that, once her newfound friends and family really got to know her, they'd cut their losses and drop her in sheer horror and disgust. But over time she'd managed to mostly quell those childhood voices, and sometimes even forget them entirely.

And, lately, Sunday Tea had become one of those times.

On this particular Sunday, she, Twilight, and Luna were sharing their usual divan. Meanwhile, Sunset and her Twilight snuggled on the love seat nearby, this being one of their weekends in Equestria, sipping and munching contentedly. Neither Cadence nor Shining Armor had been able to make it, which sucked but was also to be expected. Spike had yet again bowed out, citing “other stuff to do,” which also sucked but was coming to be accepted. He had his own life, after all, and tea wasn't for everyone.

The conversation had wound its way around a variety of topics, as usual. Sometimes encompassing all those present, sometimes fracturing into splinter discussions, ultimately gathering together again like streams of mercury in an ever-changing terrain.

Eventually, Celestia gave Sunrise a quizzical look.

“Mmm?” Sunrise asked, her mouth filled with food.

“Oh, no, nothing's wrong,” Celestia smiled. “You just seemed to have something on your mind. I didn't mean to pry.”

Sunrise chased her mouthful down with tea, then tried again.

“Mmm. No, you're not. But... well, okay, I do have a potentially odd question,” she said.

Celestia raised an amused eyebrow. “I have a potentially bizarre answer. Shall we see if they match?”

“Well, um, when I first started my studies with her, Twilight mentioned that you guys were kind of out of prophesies at the moment. So, by implication, you had prophesies before, right?”

Sunset put down her teacup, holding back a smile. Luna continued sipping contentedly, apparently enjoying the moment. Both of the Twilights’ ears perked up in unison.

Celestia, for her part, looked uncomfortable.

“In a sense,” she said. “Sometimes.”

“So... where do they come from? How do they work?”

“Well… usually from…” Celestia shifted, looking even more uncomfortable. “Well… me.”

Sunrise froze. “Oh. Geez. I'm sorry. Did I just ask a personal question over tea? Because I seriously wasn’t trying to be That Guy.”

Then, jabbing a hoof at Sunset, she accused, “And you already asked this question!”

“Mm-hmm,” Sunset said contentedly.

“Although, due to her age at the time, I confess I did give Sunset a rather simplified answer,” Celestia added. “But it is a reasonable question, and only in part a personal one.”

“So... are you okay with me asking?”

“Oh, yes.”

Encouraged, Sunrise said, “Okay, then... you mentioned before that you read patterns. Is that related to the whole prophesy thing?”

Celestia nodded. “It is, yes.”

“How does that work?”

“Vaguely.”

Sunrise nodded. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”

But Celestia shook her head. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

She sipped her tea and then put down her cup, saying, “Alright. It’s hard to put into words, but I’ll try.

“My clarity of perception regarding patterns sharpens in proportion to the strength or the influence of the event, and its immediacy, though the degree of that correlation seems to vary.

“For example, I could see that the pattern containing Discord in his stone form was weakening, generations ago, and that he would escape relatively soon… but it was only when I felt the overarching patterns of Equestria suddenly in his grasp and stretched out of proportion that I knew it had happened.”

Sunrise glanced at her Twilight with a smile, imagining her giving the same lecture. The way she would become so animated in her enthusiasm would be all her own, though. Not to mention the shine in her eyes, the way her ears would perk at certain times...

Twilight looked at her curiously. “What?”

Sunrise sipped her tea, happily exchanging smiles with Luna. “Nothing.”

“On the other hand,” Celestia continued, “after studying how his personal pattern and those of the Elements intersected for a time, I was able to deduce that their befriending him was a possibility. I didn’t cause them to, and it was not an inevitability. But I could see the probabilities of it happening were favorable, so I encouraged it.”

“No, really,” Twilight pressed quietly. “What?”

“Nothing,” Sunrise grinned, buttering another scone while Luna studied the ceiling. “Not a damn thing.”

“All that being said, I’m far from omniscient,” Celestia went on. “There are almost infinite patterns, stretched across Equestria and the world like an impossibly complex web of events. Constantly shifting, each change in its mosaic changing the meaning of every pattern it touches… and, often, the patterns they touch in turn.”

“Luna?” Twilight asked.

Luna smiled, continuing her study of overhead structural design. She replied just as quietly, “I categorically have no idea to what thou might possibly be referring.”

“What are these patterns doing, in general?” Celestia posited, refilling her tea. “I have some small idea, yes. What does that mean to our more day-to-day perceptions? That’s harder to guess. I certainly can’t see them all. Not even close. And that makes guessing dangerous.”

“No friends,” Princess Twilight said, shaking her head good-naturedly. “I have no friends.”

“None,” Sunrise and Luna assured her in happy unison, each kissing an opposite cheek.

There was a brief pause while Twilight blushed happily, bringing Luna and Sunrise into a three-way hug. Sunset and her fiancé exchanged knowing smiles and Celestia simply radiated delight in her family and the moment they were sharing.

Finally, she picked up her narrative again.

“Going back to our earlier topic,” she said, “for another example, I can tell you that there is a powerful, stagnant-yet-protean pattern interweaving into the pattern of Canterlot. It has existed for a long time, now. It intersects with many ponies of influence, most of whom are in this room. And it seems directly connected to Canterlot and Ponyville’s next great shift in pattern, I think affecting most to all of the lives therein. It also involves Cadence, and therefore possibly the Crystal Empire. In some ways more directly, in some ways less.

“But I don’t know exactly what form that shift will take. It might be a war. Or it might be a series of new social customs coming in with trade and immigration between our kingdoms, subtly changing how things are done within both. Or it might be a rather unpleasant illness, leaving a form of immunity behind as it goes. But regardless, all of us will be affected by it, to varying degrees.”

She sighed. “Hopefully, I’ll know more as I get closer. But I don’t always. Any number of things can keep me from seeing events properly. Magic, my own emotions, even just simple pony fallibility.

“All that being said, however, I can make deductions. For example, since you’ve asked about it, I can tell you that through us, you’re connected to whatever it is. Princess Cadence's connection to it is strong. But whether it's a direct connection or because of her rulership of the Crystal Empire I cannot say. Flurry Heart is also connected, though it's hard to tell how strongly. I'm just not as close to her as I am to her mother.

But your connection to this event is also strong. And through you, this encroaching pattern may touch a variety of simpler patterns in turn. Therefore, I now know this will most likely happen sometime within your lifetime.”

“But you didn’t, until now,” Sunrise said.

“Correct.”

“So,” Sunrise mused, “I’m going to help Twilight foalsit her niece this winter, catch a cold from the kid, and then give it to the foals at school so that it sweeps through the city, causing sniffles on an undreamed-of scale.”

“Maybe.”

“Or, you'll all die in a horrible battle against Sombra, and I’ll lead the last charge of fresh recruits against him sometime when I’m ninety-nine.”

“Unlikely, but also possible.”

“Or, Flurry and I could lead a social rebellion against Twilight's future regime through the introduction of pony hip-hop,” Sunrise nodded. “Yeah. I can see why you tend to keep quiet on this stuff.”

Celestia chuckled. “Well, truly momentous events have on occasion granted more detail. The more powerful event patterns are sometimes easier to read. And of course, while individuals might be read, groups – much less entire kingdoms – are essentially impossible. Thus, the odd written prophesy.”

She reached for another sandwich, adding, “It’s hard to describe, and I fear I’m not doing a very good job of it. It’s like trying to describe a rainbow to someone who has never seen color. The words I need don’t really exist.

“Meanwhile, in more immediate matters, I can discern a bit more. I can trace along my own pattern where it intersects others, for example, to tell you that Applejack is doing quite well at the moment. Her siblings are less connected to my pattern – being associated to me primarily through Applejack – and so they’re harder to read. And I've been saying that Raven needs a vacation for years."

“But actual prophesies? As in, something strategically useful, mandated by some terrible, overshadowing catastrophe?” She shook her head and reached for another slice of cake. “No. We are, as Twilight told you, between actual prophesies at the moment.”

She took another sip of tea as she munched contentedly, adding, “And I, for one, couldn’t be happier.”


Sunrise forced her eyes open.

“Well. That makes more sense in hindsight,” she muttered blearily. “Man, but prophesy sucks.”

The room was dark, the light crystals glowing a dim, deep blue rather than the customary silver or gold. Still, she could see well enough through the windows to make out the crescent moon, continuing its slow descent.

The covers were silk, she was pretty sure, though everything felt too intense, too harsh. The air was too cold, too crisp. The bedding too rough. Even her own coat was too abrasive, every hair aggressively rubbing into her skin.

It was hard work even focusing her eyes. But when she finally managed, it looked like she was in Luna's room.

For a moment, she smiled. Good. She was safe, then.

Then, her eyes snapped open as a chill ran through her. Oh, God, the foals...!

She tried to leap up, only managing to half-raise her head unevenly a few times. Then, she lay there, exhausted, gasping for breath. It felt like raising her head again would take a day's work.

**You should not be trying to move yet,** the darkness said, swirling around her. **You should not even be awake. Go back to sleep, and heal.**

Sunrise gave a bleary smile.

“Hey, Jack,” she said.

**Hey, yourself,** the shadows replied, with the same gravity as before.

“Lissen,” she managed, “The whole class was with me, I don't know how long I've...”

**Your students are safe and well,** he assured her. **Your spell brought them all here, away from danger, protecting them even as you wrought your enemies' destruction.**

Sunrise stared sadly at the window and the sky beyond, saying nothing. After a moment, Jack spoke again.

**They are all accounted for,** he said, puzzlement creeping into his voice. **And you have your mark, besides. The shape of which is a surprise to no one who knows you.**

Sunrise squeezed her eyes shut, as if in pain. Her voice was almost inaudible when she spoke.

“I don't want it.”

There was a long silence before Jack spoke again, his strange speech coming from all places and yet none.

**I don't understand.**

Feeling nauseous, Sunrise swallowed several times.

“I don't want my cutie mark,” she said at last. “Or my magic. Or any of it. Not at the risk of others, and especially not at the cost of... look, I know you guys don't use the word that much, but those Changelings... they were people.

She drew in a jagged breath, then released it just as unevenly, eyes still tightly shut.

“I'm out,” she whispered. “I'm done. Soon as I can move, I'll be out of your hair. Or manes. I'll be out of your manes. The point is, you can fix things again once I'm out of the way, and the world can be the way it was before I got here. The way it should have been all along. The way it would have been if...”

Sunrise broke off. She could feel Jack filling the room around her like a slow storm as the temperature around her plummeted. She opened her eyes in shock, the steam of her breath plainly visible before her. On the windowpanes, thin patterns of ice began to crawl and crackle, the night sky beyond hidden from view by a sudden, unnatural darkness.

Then, it was over. The frost faded from the glass, the moon shining as gently as before. Sunrise shivered slightly. Whether as an after-effect of the cold, or from something else, she couldn't tell.

From all around her, Jack's voice came, as calm as ever.

**My mother treasures you, more than I think even you realize,** he said. **You make her happy, for which I owe you a debt I can never repay. Yet, more than that, I have come to care deeply for you as well.

**So. Please permit me to speak frankly to you, as a friend.**

Sunrise opened her mouth to protest, but Jack spoke again, somehow both cold and caring.

**I have lived within this world more than a thousand years,** he said. **Neither confined to palace nor caged in orbiting stone. I have guarded dreamers from terrors and worse – first in Equestria, and then in all places known – throughout that time. I have protected them as weanlings, as children, and even as adults preparing to bring their own young into the world. I have watched them grow old and stayed with them as they died, even as new generations were ever being born. I have witnessed their dreams, their heartaches, and their very lives, spread out before me as a tapestry of silver and cetacean silk.

**So, when I speak of the ways of life and death, as I do now, the wise would do well to listen.**

Sunrise closed her mouth with an almost audible click.

The darkness around her swirled, began to coalesce. The room's crystals grew bright again, their familiar silver light replacing the blue with which they'd been dimly glowing before.

Jack drew himself together, taking his physical form. Graceful as a flowing stream, he climbed onto the bed next to her, powerful feline paws sinking into the soft bedding.

He leaned in close. Sunset could feel the warmth of the soulfire behind his eyes and mouth, smell the wood-smoke balefire of his breath when he spoke. He stared into her eyes, and she could not look away.

“There is no bargain,” he said.

And just like that, the moment was broken. Sunrise blinked, frowned, struggled and failed to sit up again. “Um, what?”

“There is no bargain,” he said again, his voice almost kind. “There is no trade, no exchange of favors or worth. No master plan or grand symmetry. Nor, indeed, is there any way of things that 'should' or 'should not' be. The blind universe cares not for such things, if indeed it cares at all. What is, simply is. Whatever is done, by you or by others, is simply done. And whatever follows, if aught does follow, follows because it must.

“Nothing was given or taken in exchange for your mark, Sunrise Shimmer. There was no exchange, because there is no bargain. No trade. At a moment of true crisis, you finally found yourself. And you defended lives. And you took lives.

“And that... is all.”

Sunrise sniffed, then suddenly began sobbing helplessly where she lay. She didn't even know why she was crying. Sadness, relief, confusion, regret... or maybe just because she was so fucking tired. She didn't know why. She just knew that she was, and when Jack rolled over slightly she was glad to be held in his panther-like forelegs while she did.

They stayed that way for a long time, his deep rumbling purr and the crackling scent of Autumn fires gently lulling her back to sleep.

Author's Note:

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If you haven't already, you can read Jack's own story here.
And the Extended Royal Family finally came together here.