Chapter 29: Second Last Breakfast.
There was a delay this time.
The transition between resets had always been a seamless weave, devoid of anything but a flicker of heat that charred my very soul. Followed by, not a coldness exactly, but an absence of sensation.
Instead of that, there was almost an echo of The Void. The burning from the remnants of Ponyville seeped away along with any other feeling; leaving me in a state of hollowness that was more similar to being in the pod than I liked. It was like the entire world was moving for me, while I remained as still as the statues in the garden. Just mustering up the desire to move was impossible.
Then, with the abruptness of a bonfire sparking to life, there was warmth. Not in my chest as I’d come to expect, but all over my body. The same singe I’d experienced with heartburn, yet spread out to the very tips of my fingers. It didn’t hurt. At least, it wasn’t supposed to hurt; warmth had never been painful before.
With the return of my body, pulled back together from the ashes that had no doubt blown away in the searing wind, came a shriek that pierced every fiber of my being. I couldn’t breathe, the tightness of my chest and inflammation of my lungs would have made that agony. While I could tell I was lying on something, my mind refused to care about anything else. Grounded only in the reality I was in.
It was hard to tell if I even had my eyes open, so much darkness corroded my vision that I briefly questioned if I had gone blind. Underneath the screeching there was a thud, accompanied by vaguely familiar voices that were getting rapidly closer. Soon they were by my side, saying something as indiscernible as a foreign language.
A nauseating pressure pushed down on my arms, restraining me as a similar force kept my head still. It was a freezing contrast to the singe that had branded itself into me, calming me enough to register the rest of my body and where I was. With each fast breath, I darted my eyes around until the darkness wasn’t as hard to see in. The canopy was easily recognizable, as well as the absurdly fancy decor and style of the bedroom I was in.
“When-” I tried to speak, only to find my throat painfully hoarse. I gulped down air like it was water, trying desperately to clear my throat of the stabbing itch that had made its home there. “-Do I go back to Ponyville?”
I raised my head just enough to see whatever force was holding me, predictably being small bands of purple magic wrapped around my arms and legs, firmly pinning me down. Not painfully so, there was plenty of wriggle room and I could flex my fingers. Luster stood to my right, her alit horn easily being the brightest light in the room. A mostly stoic expression was on her face except for a crease of her brow that’d be impossible to notice if she wasn’t so close to me.
Brash, who was standing just a few feet away with her wings tightly coiled to her sides, exchanged a brief glance with Luster.
“In a couple of hours after breakfast with The Princess.”
Which meant my reset point had changed to the night before going back to Ponyville. That didn’t give me a lot of time, but I can take solace in that it wasn’t in all the worst places and times I could name.
“Good.”
That caused some odd looks.
I let my head sink into the pillow, sucking the cold air in between my teeth and trying to focus on it over the warmth of the bed. Fortunately, the blanket only covered my lower half and made that easy. I practiced the breathing techniques Fluttershy taught me, inhaling and exhaling loud enough to drown out any other noise for just a few precious seconds. Eventually, the inside of my chest stopped feeling like someone was trying to nail a painting to the inside of my ribs.
I tentatively tugged at the ethereal bindings, finding every movement made it a little more restrictive. Almost snakelike in the way it twisted around me.
“You didn’t have to restrain me.”
My eyes stayed closed for a few moments longer. All that awaited me were the curious and concerned expressions of Brash and Luster, failing to hide the plethora of questions they undoubtedly had.
“Unfortunately, I did.”
With barely a whisk of her horn, the restraints were gone. I fidgeted a bit, slowly raising my arms and wringing my wrist.
“You were experiencing some kind of night terror; quite a severe one I might add. By the time Brash and I got in here, you were thrashing in the bed and scratching your own arms. As much as I would have preferred not to, it's standard protocol when someone is blatantly a danger to themselves.”
“Wait, Lust weren’t we supposed to avoid using-”
“Only levitation.”
Underneath the steel composure Luster's voice often had a warning undertone, cutting off Brash before she said something that I wasn’t supposed to know. Brash flinched as she glanced at me, her wings unfurling as she started walking to the other side of the bed. She bit the corner of her lip as she brushed against the bedpost.
Now that she mentioned it, there was a painful stinging just under the sleeves of my shirt. I raised it to find small, red scratch marks on my forearm. Deep enough to start bleeding, some of it having gotten under my nails. Luckily, it wasn’t nearly bad enough to last and would scab over before I knew it. I rolled my sleeve back down to the wrist, hovering over the scar there as my mind blanked. It was strangely smooth as I traced it, barely even noticeable if I hadn’t been staring at it.
“If you’re experiencing night terrors, you could speak to Princess Luna and she should be able to-”
“No.”
It came out as a breathless whimper; a plea from someone who could do nothing else. It was pathetic, and I couldn’t stand how much raw fear leaked into it. I gripped my legs hard enough to be painful, trying not to make any more pathetic noises.
“They, um-” I loudly coughed, throwing the blanket off of me and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “-They happen every once in a while, and rarely bother me for another couple of weeks; I don’t even remember them. It’s not that big of an issue, so please don’t tell Luna.”
Every word came out frantically and with a coated layer of desperation, faster than I could think of them or even breathe in between; I wasn’t sure why I was trying so hard just to convince them not to tell her. I didn’t even know how her powers worked, if she could see into my dreams or if it was just a spark of her horn and the nightmares would be gone. Whatever the case, just the idea of her probing my mind and finding not just what I experienced in the last reset, but potentially anything deeper than that…
It made my stomach churn. I couldn’t stand it.
“Very well. I can tell you feel strongly about this. While I won’t push it any further, I do suggest you talk to a therapist about it. Night terrors are not something that happen for no reason.”
“I can handle them.”
“No, Chara, you can’t.”
Brash moved in front of me, extending her wing to the side as she scowled.
“You would have hurt yourself more if we hadn’t come in. It might be none of my business what happens to you after you’re back in Ponyville, but you should at least try to take better care of yourself for your friends back there. What about Dark Moon? Would you really just tell him that ‘you can handle it’?”
“No, probably. I’d just-” I had to choose my words carefully, trying to avoid picturing that scenario with just as much caution. Instead of trying to come up with some excuse, I let my burnt out brain rest and pressed my hands to my eyes with a sigh. “-You’re right. Celestia mentioned a therapist she recommended;I'll try to talk to her if I can.”
“The Princess did?” Luster asked, likely with a raise of her eyebrow.
“Huh. I didn’t know The Princess saw a therapist.” Brash tilted her head, eyes furrowing for a moment. “Makes sense though. I can only imagine how stressful running the country by yourself for so long can be.”
I chewed on my tongue, trying to keep from saying anything about her. Celestia’s face came to mind, her silent rage coming off of her in sweltering waves. I could still hear her words, the relentless tone stabbing me as sharply as her empty gaze did.
I shook my head, reaching for my backpack and pulling out my journal. Without a word I began scribbling down footnotes of everything I could remember, scraping together the last shard of my willpower to not dwell on them for too long.
And, of course, adding another tally mark. I’ve reset six times now. Incomparable to how many times Frisk had, yet I couldn’t stand the thought of experiencing it even once more.
“Is that a dream journal?”
I paused, halfway through drawing the smiley face for J.
“Sure.”
“So you write down all the dreams you have in that?”
“I try to.”
“Does it help?”
I got to the bottom of the page, scouring over what I’d written in my frantic need for escapism. It was sloppy, with most of the symbols resembling cave paintings more than wing dings. The circles weren’t straight, the space between each one was smaller than it should be, and there were smudges that obscured some of them. It wasn’t until I stopped writing that I realized how painfully I’d been clenching the pencil between my fingers.
It rolled into the center of the book. Brash scrunched her nose as she leaned over, attempting to decipher what I’d scribbled down. With trembling hands I shut it, placing it back in the backpack and letting my hands rest in between my thighs so they wouldn’t notice how much they were shaking.
“Not really.”
“Oh.” she awkwardly stepped back, scratching her neck with her wing as she looked around the room. “So, it’s two or three hours before breakfast and I’m guessing you’re not going to try to get back asleep. Mess halls are still open, you want me to get you a well-past-midnight snack or something?”
“Mm,” I was just planning on sitting in the bed and turning my brain off as much as I could until breakfast. However, the mentioned food did make the emptiness in my stomach more prominent; I also wouldn’t exactly mind a shower either. “Do they have anything with cinnamon or butterscotch? Both would be nice.”
“I wish. The sweetest thing I can probably get you is a pumpkin roll. Doubt it though, those things are some of the first that get swiped up when dessert rolls around ever since the chef introduced them a few days ago. Do you mind if I just get you whatever's left that sweet?”
I nodded, getting to my feet and nearly falling over as a wave of nausea hit me; coupled with a lethargic weakness that only made itself known when I tried to move. Brash looked prepared to catch me, leaning forward on her hooves with her wings clenching so tightly they shook. I luckily didn’t, gripping one of the bedposts as it passed.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Uh, cool. I’ll just-” she hovered off the ground towards the door, slowly opening it and checking outside for something before peering over her shoulder at Luster. “-Go on then. Should be back in fifteen at the most if it’s busy.”
“Get me a mango smoothie if you don’t mind.”
“Blegh.” Brash opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out in feign disgust. “Sure, whatever your dead taste buds desire.”
The tension set in immediately as soon as Luster and I were alone. While I didn’t feel as torpid, the jagged sensation of her acute stare kept me where I was. My brain, for once, failed to come up with something to break it.
She’s dangerously perceptive like Pinkie or Celestia; though they’re much less obvious about what they notice and when they notice things. No matter what I say or how I say it, she’ll pay attention to the way my voice wavers on certain words or how I shift my body weight. I had too much to think about to bother with the mental minefield navigating any conversation with her would be.
The best thing I could say is nothing at all.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
I retrieved my clean set of clothes from the backpack, moving towards the bathroom as swiftly as I could. Luster was quiet until I opened the door, taking an audibly loud breath and clearing her throat.
“Chara,”
I could tell the doorknob would leave an imprint on the palm of my hand as I clutched it. As much as I wanted to shut it and pretend I didn’t hear her, I couldn’t bring myself to move another inch. Fussing with the sleeve around my wrist just to keep my hands occupied as I leaned forward on my toes.
“There’s people who really care about you.”
Beneath that unpliable firmness was a soft undertone, a sincere concern I rarely got to hear from her. I let go of the doorknob, clenching and unclenching my hands after wiping it on my shirt. No matter how much I did, the stickiness didn’t go away.
“I know.”
I shut it behind me, putting my back against the wall and just sitting on the ground for a moment. I tentatively rubbed my pendant, a source of warmth that touching me didn’t feel wrong like the blankets had.
Like everything started to.
Despite how much I wanted to sit there and shut out the rest of the world, I stood up and undressed myself; not bothering to place my clothes neatly somewhere. The water was hot within seconds of turning it on, steam already fogging up the mirror above the sink. I reached forward to touch it, heart palpitating with such ferocity that the pouring water sounded more akin to a distant waterfall.
It didn’t burn, yet as soon as the water touched me I half shrieked and stumbled away from it as I hit the wall. I waited with bated breath for Luster to barge in, only to be left with the roaring torrent of water.
After convincing myself, I begrudgingly approached the valve and turned it as far to the left as it would go. Only when there wasn’t any steam left did I ease up, able to feel how cold it’d become just from standing near it. It reminded me so much of Snowdin, only lacking the icy wind blowing in my face and the looming threat of a snowball to the face.
Asriel made it tolerable, but he wasn’t here anymore.
I hissed as the freezing water hit my hand, reminiscent of hundreds of tiny ice cubes embedding themselves under my skin and melting to my very bone; I grit my teeth to just stop myself from jumping back again. It got tolerable the longer I left my hand under it, reaching a more cooling feeling that was actually somewhat pleasant. Inch by inch, I slipped the rest of my body into the shower with a painful hesitance.
Regardless, I still hated it. Still, it got rid of any warmth. For now, the cold wasn’t that bad.
---
“Have you never seen a burrito before?”
I couldn’t even meet her gaze.
Celestia was sitting in her highchair, mixing various fruits into her oatmeal; It was a miracle I’d even made it to the chair with how terror-stricken I was upon seeing her. Wearing her usual mask of contentedness and etiquette, lacking that spark of untethered loathing I now knew she was more than capable of.
It was so stupid, but I couldn’t bring myself to get over it. Her magic, now a shining gold instead of rage-fuelled visceral orange, made me flinch each time she used it to lift something. That she’d use it to lift me, or bound me to the ground and light me ablaze with her burning fury.
Or, what scared me most of all, was that the light in her eyes would be blown out like the last candle in a dark cave. Accompanied by her flowing mane growing stiff, and then a snap of her eyes in my direction, daring me to move just an inch.
In reality, she was humming harmlessly across from me without an ounce of intent to hurt me. I had to keep reminding myself that.
“N-no, I have. Just-” I reached forward to grab one, only to pull my hand to my chest once I felt how warm it was. The pumpkin roll Brash brought me last night was smaller than I’d like, leaving a tinge of hunger that was more annoying than anything else. However, I’ve ignored worse. “-Wasn’t expecting it for breakfast. I’m not hungry though, thank you.”
“Are you sure? I could easily have the chef make something else to your liking. I’d hate to send you back to Ponyville on an empty stomach.”
I tried to slink my hand into the mug of apple-juice, having to grip my wrist with my freehand just to keep it steady.
“I’m sure, really.”
“Hmm,” Celestia placed her fork in the center of the oatmeal, leaning it left and right as she stared at me with furrowed eyebrows. “You really are quite terrible at that.”
I narrowed my eyes, raising my chin while placing the mug back on the table. She idly twirled the fork in her magic, staring at a spot on the table as her mind wandered somewhere else. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and took a bite from her oatmeal.
“Very well. Then I suppose there’s no need to dally around what I’d like to speak with you about before you go. Your time here has made it clear to me that you need help, along with being far too short for I or my sister to offer you anything other than some basic guidance. In this same line of thinking, I have an option I’d like you to at least consider.”
Identically to the before, she pushed the oatmeal to the side and straightened her posture as she put her more serious expression on. I broke away from the leer, fidgeting in the chair that I noticed for the umpteenth time made me look smaller than I already was.
“There’s a friend of mine, or perhaps I should say Sunny Shores, who specializes in treating problems such as yours. She owes me a favor, and mo…”
I started tuning her out, already finishing the next thing she was going to say in my mind. In a way, it was like the play Luna took me to: each scene needed to broach a certain amount of topics before the next one could start, every line of dialogue a cue for the next. Should I just play along? Say my lines until I’m supposed to head for Ponyville?
I didn’t even know where to begin. Telling Brash and Luster about the changelings lurking in the woods was the first thing that came to mind. Assuming I convinced them to believe me, there’s no way they could beat all of them by themselves. Maybe with the help of Twilight and the others, they’d find a way to manage; they’ve done it before. There was just no way to talk to them without running into the changelings along the way.
Even if I did, why would they listen to me? Best case scenario I tell them about my ability to reset, then they’d know how many times I failed them. Or, knowing Twilight, she’d realize I could have kept resetting to find a peaceful solution and get more upset at me than she already was. Not to mention that if we don’t get there soon enough,
When it comes down to it, there really are only two options. Try to convince Celestia there were changelings in Ponyville and to help, or I have to somehow get there myself as early as I can and hope it's soon enough.
Celestia was staring at me, having finished offering the services of Clear Mind. I could play dumb and ask what a therapist is, but I didn’t have the heart to feign ignorance or repeat all the meek half-answers I did the first time around. I couldn’t bring myself to even try that.
“There are changelings in Ponyville.”
I didn’t give myself a chance to think, to convince myself not to say it, to come up with all the ways it could go wrong; I just blurted it out.
As a consequence, her previously concern-riddled face contorted to a much more grave scowl. The temperature in the room, being well above lukewarm to my discomfort, dropped so heavily that goosebumps crawled up my arms.
“That’s quite a thing to say.” She leaned back in her chair, wings ruffling awkwardly as she brought her chin to her chest. “I truly hope you can elaborate.”
“They’re in The Whitetail Woods around Ponyville, making sure nothing gets in or out. The queen is there, in some cave nearby and feeding off the love of animals until they attack tonight. They have anti-magic rocks that only changeling magic works around, and spells that can instantly paralyze whoever they’ve cast it on.”
Every word I wrote down in my journal flowed out of my mouth in a panicked rant, though not in wing dings or that would arouse more suspicion than I could possibly explain. Once I’d stated everything I could think of, I dug my nails into the chairs of the seat so deeply I feared I’d have trouble getting them out.
“I see.”
I waited for her to go on, to ask the questions I’m sure she was running in her mind. Some part of me expected to be enshrouded in her magic and forced to answer every question she had.
None of that happened.
I was left with an impossibly rigid silence in place of them. So much so that I could even hear the sound of birds chirping from just behind the window, muffled by the shallow breaths I took that were only amplified by every passing second of nothingness.
“Aren’t you-” I didn’t want to say another word, but the idea of sitting in this mind-breaking tension for a second longer was much more intolerable. “-Going to ask me how I know any of this?”
“I’ve considered that. The thought crossed my mind that you had somehow obtained the letter Twilight sent about her fear that a changeling had infiltrated Ponyville, and for some reason you were trying to reinforce this to me as fact. What I concluded was that, regardless of if you were able to steal and read it without me knowing, that wouldn’t explain how you know about changeling anti-magic. That’s classified information that not even Twilight knows because they’ve never taken it farther than their hive; until now, apparently.”
“Wait, Twilight think-”
“You’re not showing any tells of fibbing, either. Leading me to believe that what you’re saying is the truth, or a version of the truth, and I have no choice but to trust there is something concrete in your words. Regardless of that, unless you can tell me how you got this information, I can’t act on it. So, please, enlighten me how you learned all this without leaving Canterlot or so much as having contact with any of my little ponies in Ponyville?”
I could have accepted the casual tone she often used, but not the grave one that she didn’t modulate every word of. It was hard enough to read her normally, borderline impossible when she erases any shred of politeness or attempts at collectively. Celestia could be right on the cusp of losing her temper and I wouldn’t know it.
It was like closing my eyes and walking across a tightrope without knowing where the ground was.
I had to tell her the truth. Or, as Celestia put it, a version of the truth.
“I can see the future.”
In one loop, I tried that with Twilight. It got her to listen to me long enough to try something; it was just unfortunate that I was the one who came up with the plan. As history showed, it was doomed to fail for that reason alone. This time, with Celestia having the entire royal guard and the sun at her disposal, the best thing I could do is give her all the information I had and let her act instead.
“Oh? Clairvoyance is it?” she asked with a hint of sardonicism. “I’ve heard that claim quite a few times, very rarely have I seen it come true. Pinkie is the most recent I’m aware of, who just so happens to be an element. I’m far too old to believe such a thing is a coincidence.”
“It doesn’t work like Pinkie sense. It’s more like-” I held the mug in between my hands, rubbing it with my fingers just to keep myself occupied. “-You were going to tell me about how the chef came back from vacation and wanted to try out new recipes, then you were going to explain to me what a therapist was and how relieving it can be to ‘bare yourself to stranger’. Cadance is going to give me Lumi as a pet before I leave, and she said that she already cleared it with you.”
She stared at me without any shift, unmoving like a painting without a frame. Undoubtedly waiting for me to tell her more. In my haste, I’d spewed out everything I know for sure at once and was fumbling to come up with anything else. I could maybe tell her about Brash’s plan to retire as a guard and start being a bail-bondspony, but that was a lot harder to prove off word of mouth alone.
Once she realized I wasn’t, Celestia leaned forward and stretched her wings to her sides before clasping them back together.
“You could have easily heard about Cadance from the guards; it's not exactly something she was trying to hide. Perhaps, if you’d thought about it enough, you could have guessed a therapist is what I would have recommended before we part ways for whatever amount of time. Of course, that’s a more complicated answer when you’re providing me a simpler one. Hmm,”
Without looking away from me, she lifted her teacup to her mouth and took a tentative sip from it. Scrunching her nose as she glanced down at it, flashing her horn and causing steam to evaporate off of it.
“In the name of parsimony, along with it coinciding with my dear students letter and a handful of reports I’ve received recently, I’m going to choose to believe you have some prophetic abilities and what you’re offering can be taken as such. So-”
“Don’t call it that.”
I didn’t mean to snap at her.
Usually, I try to swallow my anger; the last time I gave into it made it clear it should be the last time. I hadn’t thought about the delta rune prophecy in so long, even though its symbol was etched into the center of my necklace like a taunting reminder.
I held it in the palm of my hand, squeezing it with such intensity its edges dug painfully into my skin. A white-hot anger fuelled a burning in my chest that I hated. At fault as I was, I was foolish enough to believe that words spoken by one that time and memory had abandoned. I chose to take in the expectations thrust onto me by it and all of the monsters it influenced.
An angel made the underground empty indeed, set in place by a demon who was arrogant enough to think it was them.
“Prophecies are nothing more than cruel riddles. They don’t predict the future, they trick others into creating it and convince them it was meant to be.”
The resentment in my voice was as visceral as the resigned anguish. I couldn’t stop my hand shaking as I clamped my sticky fingers onto it, no matter how much it hurt. Moments of agonizing oblivion passed before I was relaxed enough to let go, placing the necklace back in my shirt where its lifeless chill stuck out among my body heat.
Taking the place of my rage was the familiar cloak of terror wrapping itself around my heart, elongating itself into every inch of my body until I felt like its puppet. I could only sit in the chair that seemed bigger each time I noticed its size, waiting to see how Celestia would respond.
“Cadance was right, you really do get more intriguing with everything you say.”
I furrowed my eyebrows, peeking through my growing bangs at her. While still tense, there was a tiny smirk on her lips as she met my gaze.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I want you to tell me everything you can about this ‘future’ you saw. If we can’t do something to prevent it, then what's the point?”
“Oh, well,” I rubbed my hands down the front of my pants, frowning as I tried to think of anything useful that I didn’t already mention. “Chrysalis mentioned that she’s the one who forced the diamond dogs to attack Pinkie’s family. She had changelings pretend to be their pups and blackmailed them with it.”
“And you know this how?”
“She,” my voice trailed off as I realized what I was about to say. “Told me.”
“She told you?” Celestia raised an eyebrow. “And why, per se, did Chrysalis bother talking to you in the first place?”
“It was already after she captured me on our way to Ponyville. She mentioned-” I brought my hands to my neck, rubbing the sides of them as I recalled being inside those disgusting pods. I made the mistake of closing my eyes for just a few seconds, only for that disgusting warmth to tingle over my body.
For a single second, I thought I heard that thumping again.
“-That I smelled like the zealots.”
“The zealots? How would she- Celestia’s half-lidded eyes drifted to the side, then constricting and coming to a still close. “-she had one of the appendages, didn’t she?”
“Yeah,” my arms dropped limply to my lap. “It was a lion’s paw.”
“His right hand?” A wry chuckle slipped through her lips. “How ironic. You have no idea how many gaps of information you just filled for me; I might have come to that conclusion regardless if I had enough time. Of which we have little of.”
The scraping of her chair legs against the ground startled me as she stood up, cleaning the table in a near instant with the sole exception of the mug that she hovered to me. There was very little left in it; I hardly remembered taking as many sips as I apparently did.
“Lets see, by the time you get there Twilight should be in Sugarcube Corner. Checking on Limestone and Pinkie If she’s adhering to her schedule like she often does.”
“L-limestone?” I coughed as I drank the remainder of the apple juice, stumbling to my feet as I placed it back on the table. “Why’s she in Ponyville?”
“Visiting Pinkie from what Twilight told me. I don’t know the details aside from that, nor is it overtly important. Unless that's a problem?”
“No, not at all. Just,” It was easy to recall how furious she was when Marble didn’t come back in one of the resets. Her protectiveness over her siblings was intimidating, and I’d hurt one of them. Not to mention that I’d left two corpses in front of her home, and I held no doubt she was the one who had to clean it up.
I can’t imagine she’d be ecstatic to see me.
“Wasn’t expecting to see her again so soon.”
“Ah, I see.” Celestia’s featured softened as she gave me an understanding nod. “If it’s any consolation, both her and Pinkie are doing quite well. Your apprehension is to be expected, however from how Twilight’s spoken to me about you returning I don’t believe things will go as terribly as you’re convincing yourself they will.”
“It’s not.”
She retrieved a letter out of seemingly nowhere, writing something down on it at a speed I could only dream of before just as quickly sending it away in a puff of smoke.
“I’ve sent an emergency letter to Shining. He needs to be informed about this so we can send guards to Ponyville and comb the area for this ‘cave’ you speak of. The problem is, I must act under the assumption a changeling has already infiltrated Ponyville, there hasn’t been a single instance of them invading without one of their own learning everything they need to and there’s no reason to suspect this is different.”
In that fleeting moment she turned to me, I stared into her eyes, and I was reminded how large she was as she loomed over me. One wing would be enough to embrace me, and one flicker of her horn would be enough to turn me to nothing more than ashes in the wind. I’d always known she must have been capable of such, but experiencing it and how easy it was for her painted her in a new light that blinded me.
“Brash and Luster will be going with you and protecting them as well until such can be arranged. I’ll have to go against Twilight’s landing suggestion but I’m sure she’ll understand. Chara,” Celestia took a few steps backwards, her posture stooped as she stared at me. “Are you ok? You’re paler than usual and your teeth are chattering.”
I tightened my jaw to force my teeth still, muscles aching with tension the longer I kept it locked that way.
“No.” I muttered as I turned away from her, counting as I pretended she wasn’t there.
“Chara,” her voice dropped, taking on a gentler tone that she masked whenever speaking to her guards. “What happened to you in that future?”
I froze up, unable to so much as peer over my shoulder at her. I pulled in my shoulders, hanging my head as I wrapped my arms around myself.
“Oh.”
She stayed as void of any noise as I did. Eventually broken by tepid hoofsteps that approached the door. I saw out of the corner of my eyes her back, then ears flickering as she opened the door.
“I’m sorry.”
I sharply inhaled at her apology, running my brain ragged to form a coherent response. She couldn’t have known, regardless of how insightful she was. Some irrational part of me wasn’t convinced, offering doubts and suspicions that she somehow realized she was the one who killed me in that future.
I traced my fingers on the chain of my necklace, soothing me the same way it was bound to do countless times more in the future.
“I know.”
She didn’t hear my whisper, which was for the best. Without another word she let me walk past her and leave the room, heading towards my room to get my backpack and leave for Ponyville.
This time, I won’t be too late.
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If Celestia manages to stop the changelings maybe Chara could tell her and Fluttershy about the other futures
11605587
That would be an interesting conversation
11605612
Chara wanted to tell everything to Fluttershy after all
God damn every update leaves me wanting more
11605875
That is the secret to getting people to keep reading your stuff: Cliffhangers.
And also consistent writing quality that gradually improves as the fic goes, but mostly cliffhangers.
11605877
Definitely the cliffhangers,. Its not like constant overuse of storytelling resources makes them less effective and impacts the story directly and negatively as opposed to constantly improving and being consistent with a good story and good storytelling.
Anyways take your time writing the next one, im just gonna re read the story until the next chapter comes out.
Something tells me that this might not be the first time Chara will have to tell this to Celestia.
This can't possibly be fixed in one reset after all. Celestia and her guards might all end up in a trap or something.
I hope that Chara can eventually bring herself to explain why she killed the Diamond Dogs in the first place, that this wasn't a decision done at the moment but one caused by multiple deaths of her own and of her friends.
I really wonder how Celestia will handle the fact that she killed Chara. If Chara ends up telling her someday.
I don't think Celestia realises that she is the one who killed Chara in that timeline. she probably suspects Chrysalis killed them. I think Chara will do something drastic, possibly killing Some captured changelings, and Celestia will attempt to assure them that that timeline is gone and that the changelings can't hurt them. Only to realise that it isn't the changelings Chara fears. She will recognise that Chara experiences death, without knowing she was the cause.
Or it may be something Luna discovers when she inevitably makes her way through Charas dreams.
It's curious. Celestia is an immortal. Chara though has experienced death several times.
11606099
This has ultimately been (one of) my goals. I think anthro has a terrible stigma of over sexualization and part of the reason I made this fic is to dispel that in anyway I can. I also try to write it to where its very easy to forget they are anthro, which to my knowledge has been working more or less.
Most excellent.
11606133
Celestia already made the connection to Chara's prophetic dreams to her killing of the Dogs. She can guess what pushed her to such desperate lengths.