Death of a Queen, V2.

by Arkane12

15: Crystal Clear Cadance

Twilight sat and stared at the blank page laid out before her. The crisp, clean paper taunted her. Her writing tools lay beside it, quill still dry and ink still corked. Her latest experiment still hung on the burner in front of her, hissing as it cooled.

She stepped on the crossbeam under the table, using it as leverage to tilt the front legs of her chair off the ground. As her seat rocked back and forth, she closed her eyes, using only the pull of gravity to judge her balance.

When the hissing finally stopped, she cracked open an eye. The liquid in the flask had solidified. She plucked the glass from its stand and tossed it into a bin with half-a-dozen others of its kind. From over her shoulder, she retrieved another water-filled flask and started again.

“Pink Lily. Hogweed. Powdered Ruby.”

Twilight muttered the ingredient list under her breath as she added each one to the mix. The results turned the flask a muddy brown. After securing the potion to the ring, she turned the knob at the base, sparking a flame that molded to the bottom of the glass.

As it started to simmer, she kicked her chair aside and pushed away from the table. She stumbled through the piles of junk until she reached the windows. With a flick of her horn, the blinds drew back, flooding the room with moonlight.

But her gaze didn’t linger on the heavens. While she climbed onto the windowsill, she watched the streets of Canterlot below. Despite the full moon, the streets were lit with electrical lighting. Stores all across the city kept their lights on for the dozens of late-night shoppers and diners.

“Princess?”

A particular group caught her eye. From up here, details were impossible to make out, but she counted maybe four or five ponies, walking up the sidewalk in a group.

“Princess Twilight?”

Her mind drifted through the countless possible conversations they could be having.

“Princess Twilight? Are you in there, Your Highness?”

She pressed her hoof to the glass. The wooden cross beams felt more like iron bars. In her mind, she walked those streets too, oblivious to the abyss inching closer. She wondered what it was like. What if they knew how few threads tied the whole city together? The whole country, even?

The sound of creaking hinges yanked her up from the streets below. One of Luna’s sentries stood in the entryway.

“Princess Twilight?”

Though her thoughts had settled, she continued to watch the group until they rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. “Yes?”

“I thought you might be in trouble. You weren’t answering me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t hear you calling.”

He opened his mouth, but thought better of whatever he was about to say. “I brought a message from Princess Luna. She wishes to know if you’ll be joining her for dinner this evening. The kitchen is preparing--”

“No. I’ll have something sent up.”

“Are you sure, Princess? She was very insistent that--”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Twilight said, turning her back to the window. “Please give my gratitude to Princess Luna, but I have quite a lot of work to get done.” She advanced on the guard, forcing him to retreat back through the door.

“But, Princess--”

“And thank you, of course, for bringing this message to my attention.”

She backed the soldier into the hall and shut the door before he could respond.

“Very well, Princess. I shall let her know your answer,” he called back through the door.

Twilight stood by the entrance, listening for the sound of footsteps. When the guard finally left, she returned to her workstation. With a long sigh, she popped the cork off the inkwell and wet the tip of her quill.

She wrote down each lot number, followed by the list of ingredients, and then the final status of the potion. Another page of failures. She waited for the script to dry before throwing the page halfway across the room and pressing her cheek into the vacant workspace. Before she closed her eyes, she set the nearby timer for an hour.

But no matter how little energy she had left or how heavy her eyelids were, sleep eluded her. After fifteen minutes, she found herself staring at the newest brew, watching each bubble as it ascended. She chewed her lip and tilted her head. Through a narrowed gaze, she looked to the shelves. A crystal from the higher shelves floated down, landing in front of her.

She rolled it between her hoof and the table’s surface for a few moments while she considered her options. With a rough push, she pushed it across the table and stepped back. Her horn crackled with arcane energy. In a flash of light, the crystal vanished, replaced by a purple and white ceramic teacup.

At first glance, it resembled the same ones that Celestia kept in her private collection. Looking a bit closer would reveal that the purple engravings resembled cartoon waves, rather than the elegant designs of Celestia’s. She lowered the glass gently, then returned to staring at the bubbling potion.

Observation, she told herself, was key to any experiment. But it wouldn’t heat the bottle any quicker. In an attempt to alleviate her boredom, Twilight scoured the bookshelf. The blatant disorder of the shelves made her eye twitch. She added another tally to the growling list of reasons she missed Spike.

Eventually, she settled on one of her old favorites, Astral Magic; A Complete Guide to the Magic and Mannerisms of Starswirl the Bearded. She flipped to the first page and started reading. At least she had this old friend to keep her company.

Intimate knowledge of the book’s information combined with her already impressive speed allowed Twilight to finish the first half of the book before a shrill alarm made her jump. She set the book aside and shut off the timer. A few turns of the handle turned the flame cold.

Taking a pair of tongs in her magic, Twilight used them to lift the flask from its perch. With the heat gone, the bubbling stopped, leaving her with what appeared to be a bottle of mud. After kneeling down behind one of the other tables, Twilight tilted the potion, spilling a thin drizzle of brown goop into the teacup. She poured just enough to cover the bottom of the container.

She spent a few more minutes behind the table before deciding that any explosive reactions would’ve been much quicker. She reached for her book again, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Scoffing, Twilight set the book back down and hurried over to the door. The handle turned and the door opened, revealing a powdery pink coat and a purple, yellow, and pink striped mane, topped by a golden tiara. Twilight blinked a few times, just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

In the end, the more forceful half-hug, half-tackle made the reality all the more clear.

“Twilight!” Cadance said as she threw her front legs around Twilight.

“Cadance?” Blinking past her initial shock, Twilight returned the hug.

“It’s been a long time, Twilight. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“I’ve . . . been doing my best.”

Cadance gave a quiet chuckle as she released her little sister-in-law. Twilight stepped aside to let her new guest pass. Cadance scanned the room as she walked through, turning to Twilight while motioning to the chaos of the lab.

“Your best, huh?”

Twilight rubbed the back of her neck, saying, “I said I was fine..”

Cadance shook her head, but her smile didn’t waver.

“I haven’t really had time to clean,” Twilight continued, “I’ve been busy. But enough about me. What are you doing here? Luna told me you wouldn’t be arriving until tomorrow.”

“Some delays got cleaned up faster than expected. Which means we got here early.”

“What about Flurry and Shining Armor?”

Twilight unburied one of her other chairs from beneath a mountain of books and loose papers. She turned it for Cadance to sit. The other princess accepted graciously.

“Shining is down with Luna in the Dining Hall. As for Flurry Heart . . .” Cadance flinched. “We decided it would be best to leave her home with a foal-sitter while we were away. Taking care of babies can be incredibly stressful, and we were afraid that you and Luna were already a little . . . you know . . .”

“I guess I can understand that.” Despite agreeing, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed by Flurry’s absence. And her mood only soured as she remembered the real reason Cadance was here. “I take it that Luna told you the situation, then?”

Cadance let out a long, weary sigh. “Yes. She informed me of Celestia’s status.” She turned away sharply. “And all because she trusted that slimy little bug. I swear, she will be punished for what she did. Shining and I will make sure of that.”

She turned back in time to see Twilight squirm in her chair.

“Is something wrong, Twilight?”

Twilight turned her back to the other alicorn. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” She stayed quiet for only a moment. “C-can I ask you something that’s . . . been on my mind for a while now?”

Cadance put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Of course you can. We’re family.”

“I’ve . . . been . . . thinking. About Chrysalis.” She felt her heart race.

Cadance’s grip tightened. “What sort of thoughts?”

“What if . . .” Twilight struggled to meet Cadance’s gaze. “What if she isn’t the monster we always thought she was?”

“Oh.” Twilight wasn’t sure what she expected from Cadance after a question like that, but laughter was last on that list. “Isn’t that just like you, Little Sis? Always wanting to see the best in others.” Her smile dimmed slightly. “Even if they don’t deserve it.”

Twilight slipped away from Cadance’s grasp. “I know it sounds crazy, Cadance, but I don’t think she’s the horrible monster we believed she was. I’m not saying she’s some paragon of virtue, but I think she at least deserves a chance to prove that she can change.”

Cadance closed her eyes, her muzzle wrinkling. “I don’t mean to be harsh Twilight, but some creatures don’t deserve another chance. Chrysalis is cunning and dangerous--”

“I know she is,” Twilight said. “But I also know that I can help her. I just need some time.”

“Because she wants you to think that.”

Twilight furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“She’s a trickster, Twilight.” Cadance said plainly. “She got caught. Now she’s desperate to find any way out of it. And she knows that having you on her side gives her a better chance of walking out of here. She’s showing you what you want to see so she can use you. To make you believe that she’s changing.” She huffed. “I know you don’t want to hear it, Twilight, but it’s the truth.”

Twilight wilted in her seat. “I . . . I know that’s a possibility. I’ve asked myself the same question so many times.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “But what if we’re wrong? What if she really can change? Don’t we owe her a second chance?”

Cadance took a step back. “Listen to yourself. Do you even hear what you’re saying, Twilight? We’ve barely been able to stop her plans twice now.” She paused. “Suppose you do give her a second chance. If you’re wrong about her . . . we barely survived the last plot. I don’t like our chances of making it through a third.”

“But--”

“Twilight . . .” Cadance stepped back into Twilight’s field of view, forcing their eyes to meet. “Do you remember what she did to us?” Twilight heard genuine hurt in Cadance’s voice. “If the two of us hadn’t found a way to escape from her trap in the caves beneath Canterlot, what do you think would have happened to us? Do you think she would have given us another chance?”

Twilight tried to answer, but each stammered syllable only taxed her waning confidence.

“No,” Cadance decided. “We would have died down there. And she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. And all of Equestria would have fallen. What if Starlight and her friends hadn’t been able to defeat her after we were captured?” Cadance put a hoof under Twilight’s chin, lifting her head. She wore a pained smile. “I’m not saying that you’re wrong, Twilight. But –like it or not– Chrysalis is too dangerous for us to be doubting ourselves like this. She thrives on paranoia and confusion. They’re the tools of her trade. For the sake of Celestia, and for all of Equestria, we can’t take that chance.”

Twilight wanted to say something. But before she could find the words, something on her workstation started to glow, stealing her attention.

“What is that?” Cadance asked, leaning away from the light.

Twilight covered her eyes until the light faded. As she lowered her foreleg, she inspected her work station. There, amidst her books and reagents, sat a single white crystal. She took it in her hooves, giving it a brief once-over.

Noticing her little sister’s sudden enthusiasm, Cadance joined her, watching the inspection over Twilight’s shoulder.

“This was a teacup,” Twilight said, as though it explained everything.

Cadance nodded.“And now it’s not?”

“I used my magic to transform it.” She pointed the crystal toward the bottle on her desk. “And I tried to use my newest creation to change it back. I didn’t drop the spell, it was just canceled out.”

“Okay,” Cadance said, nodding gently.

“If it worked on my magic, then it might work on the magic that’s killing Celestia.”

“Oh!” Cadance’s eyes went wide. “Then . . . you did it?”

Twilight set the crystal back on her desk. “There’s only one way to find out.”