Ocellus is trapped in a palace infested with a brood of love-starved changelings and their queen who are intent on using her only way home as a means to invade her world.
After a mirror portal field trip being conducted by Luna goes terribly wrong, Ocellus finds herself trapped in a strange palace far from home. That palace, once abandoned, is now infested with a hive of love-starved changelings intent on using her only way home as a means to invade her world.
Otherwise, Ocellus appears to be alone.
At first.
The story is inspired by, and a homage to, my favorite game of the last decade. However, this story is neither a crossover nor AU. This story is set after "The End of the End" (but before "The Last Problem"), and is purely a My Little Pony story. Warning: rudeness and intolerance are not allowed in the comments, but spoilers are. Exercise discretion. Remain polite and on-topic. And please enjoy the story!
"I keep having this... dream. I'm just staring into the black between the stars. There's something there. I just can't see it... but it sees me. I can feel it hate us."
Queen Chrysalis stands tall and proud, calling out mockingly to the foolish pony attempting to hide from her. "...everything has gone according to my plan."
The sound of her Queen draws the love-starved nymph out of her hole. This is the voice of victory. This is the sound of revenge for their humiliating and destructive defeat at Canterlot.
"What plan?" the invading pony cries out from her hiding place. "Why did you do all this?!"
The nymph hisses, looking around, hoping to spot the pathetic creature. To deliver her to the Queen. But the Queen has already found her.
Queen Chrysalis invades the pony's hiding spot, causing her to collapse in fright.
"So I could feed, of course!" The nymph marvels that the Queen would bother to answer the pony's question. Ocellus has never seen Her bother so much with a drone.
But Queen Chrysalis continues to boast, reveling in it. "By replacing the most beloved figures in Equestria, my drones will be able to store all the love meant for them and return it here to me. Everypony will do as I command, and my subjects and I will feed on their love for generations!" The hive fills with Her maniacal laughter.
All about Ocellus, her fellow changelings hiss. To applaud their Queen's greatness. To intimidate the hive invader.
The pathetic lavender pony peeks out from behind her rock, her gaze searching for any avenue of escape. Any shred of hope. She sees the traitor, Thorax, captured and bound to the floor by the Queen's royal resin and hides again.
"What if you didn't have to?"
"Ridiculous!" Queen Chrysalis is on the lavender pony in an instant, grabbing the mare by the tail as she tries to flee and tossing her towards two of the hive's guardians. The helmeted changelings are swift to pin the pony down.
"The hunger of changelings can never be satisfied!"
"Exactly!" the lavender pony exclaims, still daring to talk back to the Queen even while captured. "Thorax left the hive and made a friend. He shared love, and now he doesn't need to feed."
What? No. That's not how it works!
"You don't have to live your lives starving all the time!" The pony's words ring out with hope, with promise.
Ocellus wishes those promises were true. She knows they are not. They can't be. But wouldn't that be wonderful?
Queen Chrysalis tears the pony from Her guards with a show of Her royal magic. Her words inform the naïve pony of her folly. "You know nothing of the changelings or what it takes to be their queen!"
In anger, the Queen hurls the pony with Her magic. Ocellus quickly steps out of the way as the mare slams into the wall next to her. The nymph backs up another step, bowing her head as her Queen approaches, seething.
"I decide what is best for my subjects, not some mewling grub!"
The lavender pony cringes, but she doesn't cower. "I know what it's like to lead by fear and intimidation!" Then she stops cringing. She stands. She stands up before the Queen!
"And I know what it's like to want everypony to do what you say. But I was wrong." The mare is so sure of herself. "A real leader doesn't force her subjects to deny who they are. She celebrates what makes them unique and listens when one of them finds a better way."
Ocellus feels a pang. Is it treason that she wishes her Queen would do that? Can a hive even be lead that way? The parasitical nymph looks around nervously. She can see it in the pained, longing expressions of her fellow drones. She is not the only one who feels this way. If she is a traitor, there are a lot of traitors in this room.
Although there is one who is much moreso than the rest of them.
Queen Chrysalis scoffs. "The only thing Thorax has found..." She announces as She marches up to the treasonous drone who abandoned them and helped outsiders invade the hive. "...is what happens to those who turn their back on the hive!"
The Queen lifts him with Her royal magic, pulling him from the royal resin as it turns to jelly at Her will, no longer binding him to the floor.
The lavender pony tries to intervene, but is caught again by the hive guardians. She cries out, "No! Stop!"
But Queen Chrysalis has no intention of stopping yet. "Just as soon as I drain every last ounce of love from him and show my subjects what a real leader is!" Queen Chrysalis opens Her mouth and begins to drain the love from him. They can see it, a rosy pink light that is pulled in reluctant wisps from the struggling drone.
The traitor, Thorax, moans as he strains to keep his love. It is no use. No drone can stand up to a Queen. "I can feel the love inside me slipping away..." he whimpers. "I can't hold onto it much longer..."
The lavender pony's next words shock the hive. "Then don't!"
"Sharing love is what made you different to begin with! You should share yours with Chrysalis!" the lavender pony calls to Thorax. Ocellus sees the pony's eyes narrow almost diabolically.
"Give her all of it!"
Thorax stops resisting. Ocellus freezes, unable to look away. Is he... is he actually going to do that? Follow the pony's insane advice? That's instant starvation. He'll die!
Thorax's love flows out, no longer restrained, becoming a flood. It fills the room with the taste of strawberries and oranges, with hints of fennel. Ocellus feels it washing over her, the taste almost overwhelming.
The flood becomes a tsunami. The rush of it is so strong it blasts the Queen away from him, driving Her back to Her throne with enough force to crack it. The light swarms around Thorax and becomes blinding.
And as it fades, Ocellus sees the drone Thorax is no more.
Except... in his place is a shining cocoon. It radiates with the light of his love.
The lavender pony walks towards the cocoon, the stunned guards giving no resistance. The pony cautiously reaches out to touch the cocoon hovering where her ally had been.
The cocoon ruptures in brilliance.
Ocellus blinks, dazzled. The first thing she sees as her sight returns is Thorax. But not as he was. Not as any changeling she knows has ever been. Not black and emaciated with chitin full of holes...
He is the most beautiful creature in the world.
"This is what happens when you give love freely instead of taking it!" the lavender pony proclaims, addressing the hive.
Seriously? Is this real? Please, please, please don't let this just be a dream!
One of the drones in the crowd lifts up, opening her forelegs wide and letting her love flow.
Then another.
And another.
Before her, the entire hive was changing. Transforming. The pony hadn't been lying. She hadn't been naïve. Changelings could survive by sharing love. They didn't have to starve. They didn't have to be parasites! They could be symbiotic!
Ocellus wants that so much. She spreads her forearms. She doesn't have much love to give. Hardly any at all in her cold drone heart. A small kernel for her hive. A dusting for her Queen. A jealously guarded pinch for her parents. That is all. She isn't storing any love taken from other creatures. She prays that the tiny amount she can give is enough. That the act of sharing it...
Nothing happens.
Horror floods through the nymph. Ocellus stares at her black forelegs. She holds them up, looking through the holes. She can see the other changelings of the hive around her, each more beautiful and unique than the last.
Surrounding her. Staring at her.
No. No, please no! She spreads her forelegs and tries again. But nothing happens.
She can hear murmuring in the crowd. The nymph begins to tremble. She feels herself starting to cry.
She tries again, harder. But instead of love, all she can feel is terror and despair. She spreads her forelegs so wide that she falls over backwards.
The ground beneath her opens up and she falls into the gaping black abyss. The maw closes above her, swallowing her in darkness.
Ocellus feels the floor beneath her. It is cold and smooth, without texture or feature. Like a pane of glass. The changeling nymph cannot see it. All about her, the world is an endless ocean of black stretching in every direction.
Floating in that black are mirrors. They march in rows on either side of her. She moves towards the closest one, hoping to see herself transformed. To see the Ocellus she knows she has become.
As she steps into the reflection, she is greeted by a bugbear. One with pink wings and light cerulean fur. It towers over her behind the surface of the mirror. She lifts a forehoof and it mimics her movements precisely. It is her. Ocellus knows. Herself as a bugbear. It is a familiar form. One of the most familiar in her repertoire. She has taken it many times.
But she isn't a bugbear now, is she? She concentrates, willing herself to change back to her natural form. But nothing happens. There is no flashing cocoon of energy. Ocellus' heart beats faster. She cannot change because she is already in her natural form.
She backs away from the mirror, watching the bugbear move back, doubling the space between them.
Her tail hits the cool glass of another mirror as she backs into it. She turns to see the lanky form of a tan dragon girl looking back at her in mirrored surprise.
Ocellus scrambles away, the dragon-Ocellus in the mirror doing the same.
The changeling nymph spins, looking from mirror to mirror. Each one refects her, but not as she truly is. Like funhouse mirrors showing warped images, each mirror shows her transformed.
Ocellus feels her hooves stepping against the unseen floor beneath her as she is drawn forward down the hallway of reflections. She has to reach the end.
The mirrors pass to her left and right. Not one reflection is the real her. Every form in her repertoire is here. Even animals she has become in Professor Fluttershy's class.
Bat-Ocellus. Bunny-Ocellus.
She keeps walking, needing to reach the mirror at the end of this hallway, knowing -- somehow knowing -- that the final mirror will be the one to reveal her real self.
The final mirror looms ahead, drawing closer. With every step, Ocellus' heart beats harder, her insides feeling cold with dread. She doesn't want to see. She is afraid she will see that drone she used to be. Or worse.
She's afraid that she will see Chrysalis staring back at her.
Her body feels like somecreature is stabbing needles beneath her chitin. The feeling grows worse as she approaches the mirror. She wants to stop. To run the other direction. But she steps forward again and again.
She doesn't stop walking until she is standing before the mirror. The mirror that will reflect her true self.
The mirror shows nothing.
Ocellus feels like she is surrounded by windigos. Or submerged in a frozen lake. Like she has fallen through the ice and there is no hole to crawl back out through.
Ocellus stares into the mirror, close enough to touch it. But there is no Ocellus reflected back.
The mirror shows more than just black. Reflected in its surface are the other mirrors. There is nothing wrong with the mirror.
"You're planning a vacation. Go somewhere familiar you know you love, or try something new?"
Ocellus jolts at the feeling of being shaken. The mirror hall crumbles around her, the other versions of her dropping out of the frames, then the frames themselves slip sideways out of reality, leaving holes to a white nothing that begins to eat at the black.
The mirror in front of her is the last to go, standing stalwart against the apocalypse eating the world. Resolutely showing her absolute lack of reflection. Nothing but a void.
And just for a moment, she feels something staring back at her from deep within it...
Reality crashes into place around Ocellus, the familiar claw on her shoulder continuing to shake her. Her heart is beating quickly. She is in bed. Waking up from yet another night of troubled sleep. There is light filtering through her closed eyelids, and the warmth of her blankets wraps her in a comforting cocoon as the night terror melts away.
"Ocellus! Wake up. You're having a nightmare."
Ocellus recognizes the voice of her dragon friend. More, she recognizes the taste of her -- a cinnamon sharpness mixed with other flavors -- but they all feel muddy and wrong. She frowns and rolls over, burying her face in her pillow to keep Smolder from seeing the expression she is making. Ocellus doesn't want Smolder to think she is making a face because she is tasting the dragon's love.
Ocellus is making a face because she is tasting the dragon's love, but it's not like that. And she doesn't want Smolder to get the wrong impression. She woke up with her receptors open, something common for changelings, especially those in a love-filled environment. But the sense of "taste" she gets from them is muddled after the night's sleep. On mornings like this, tasting Smolder's love the moment she wakes up is like drinking a glass of orange juice while you still have pasty morning-mouth. Ocellus shuts her receptors and the taste passes.
Ocellus murphles into her pillow that she's awake, and the warm claw leaves her shoulder. She takes a moment to process what she remembers of the night terror and convince herself fully that it is passed. This is the... fifth? Sixth?... night in a row that her dreams have tormented her. She feels barely rested, like her mind is full of cotton.
She sits up and sees Smolder staring at her with concern. She slowly opens her receptors again, her senses overcoming their post-sleep fog. Cinnamon with notes of granite and a sweetness that reminds her of fancy toast. Smolder's worry is born of caring. That caring is laced with love. And changelings feed on love. Ocellus cannot taste the worry or the caring directly -- changelings aren't fully empathic, as she's had to explain to classmates and teachers more than once -- but even though it is but a small part of what Smolder is feeling, the love component in those emotions is filling the air between the orange dragon and her bunk.
"Are you okay?" Smolder asks, her eyes looking up and down the nymph with mild yet undisguised alarm.
Ocellus sighs. "Bad dreams. Again."
Smolder's face clouds. Ocellus knows the dragon is biting her tongue. Her night terrors have been more and more frequent. She's had them for well over a year, but only sporadically. Maybe twice a month, and normally before events anyone would be stressed about: a big test, a big buckball game. Smolder and her friends even made a real, live appearance in one of her earliest ones, courtesy of King Sombra's destruction of the Tree of Harmony.
But now? Almost every night for the last week.
Smolder snorts. "You really should talk to someone about them..." she urges.
The young changeling frowns. And from the look Smolder gives her, she can tell the dragon is reading that she is not going to follow her friend's advice. The last time Ocellus sought adult council, Headmare Starlight was still the School Counselor. That hadn't been as helpful as she had hoped. And that was quite a while ago. Trixie is the counselor now, and as much as the unicorn cares about the students, Ocellus cannot imagine her being able to help.
"Why not have a Feelings Forum about it?" Smolder suggests, half teasing.
Cultural acceptance was a fundamental, not only of the School of Friendship, but the friendship she and Smolder shared with each other and their close circle of friends. But that didn't mean the extremely un-dragon practice of communal gatherings to talk about feelings was off-limits for some good-natured jabs.
Ocellus casually replies, "I don't think they could help. Counselor Trixie either. Dreams are really more Princess Luna's forte." Well, ex-Princess, but that felt so odd and vaguely disrespectful to say. "If I write a scroll asking her about it, could you send it to her for me?"
Smolder responds with a gentle slap of her wing across the back of Ocellus' head. The dragon flies up to her bunk to start making her bed.
Translation: I can't do that. Dragons don't do that. I don't know how Spike does it. Stop teasing.
Ocellus gives the bunk above a smirk.
Translation: I know that. And I will. Eventually. Maybe.
The orange-scaled dragon girl finishes what could pass for having at least looked at her sheets, then hops down. Ocellus watches Smolder grab her towel and head to the shower. She is still getting used to having the Dragon as a roommate this year. It is different than sharing a room with Yona. But as Yona's relationship with Sandbar grew, the yak had wanted to swap to Silverstream's room which was right across the hall from her boyfriend's.
Ocellus remembers the very brief argument she and Smolder had at the beginning of the year over who got the top bunk, which they had both enjoyed in their previous living assignments. Smolder won with "If I'm on top, then if I snore in my sleep -- which I never do -- I won't set your bunk on fire." After that, there was nothing to do but concede gracefully with, "Good point. And if I'm on the bottom, if I turn into a bugbear in my sleep -- which I never do -- I won't flatten you."
Smolder's wide-eyed look had made losing the top bunk worth it.
Smolder has stopped at the door and is looking back at her. "You coming?"
Ocellus flushes, realizing she hasn't even gotten out of her bed yet, much less made it. She'll do the chore when she comes back for her saddlebags. She wants to double-check all her packing anyway. The mystery field trip is supposed to last three days.
The changeling nymph quickly disentangles herself from her sheets and hops out of bed, grabbing her towel. "Y-yeah."
"You all packed?" Sandbar is asking as Smolder and Ocellus walk into the Atrium.
Gallus flips his yellow crest feathers. "Yeah, as best as I can be. I've even packed homework. I feel like Ocellus." That gets a few laughs from their friends. "Seriously, I've got the design done for my project in Professor Pinkie's class, but I have no idea how I'm going to build it."
Ocellus feels her ears twitch. And her curiosity awaken, asking what Professor Pie has the boys up to. She's not in that class, just Sandbar and Gallus.
Sandbar nods. "You mean, without it looking like our first attempt at the treehouse?"
"Yeah," Gallus bemoans. "Like that."
"Hey, it wasn't that bad!" Silverstream pipes up. It had lots of glue.
"Yona packed!" Sandbar's girlfriend agrees with self confidence. "Yona pack different outfits for snow or sun or rain!" The set of suitcases strapped to the young yak's back testifies to her thoroughness. Ocellus suspects Professor Rarity helped supplement Yona's wardrobe. Yona's genuine interest in clothing had her designing a line of yak summer wear with the professor as an extracurricular project.
"It would be easier to pack if we knew where we were going," Gallus grumps.
"I love that it's a surprise! Oooh, what if it's Cloudsdale?" Silverstream suggests enthusiastically. "Or Silver Shoals? We could visit the former princesses!"
"Anyplace is good so long as Yona have her friends!"
"You said it!" Smolder shouts out as she and Ocellus approach from across the lawn. Their friends turn and wave in greeting, then one-by-one, their expressions turn to concern. Ocellus can see it. Taste it, too. Multiple subcurrents of love, a bunch of flavors melting together mixing pleasantly, none of them strong enough to stand out.
Ocellus is experienced enough to know that worry always has a little love in it when that worry concerns some creature you care about. But it is such a small facet of the dominant emotion that it often tastes weak and washed out. As it does with other emotions with a love ingredient. It is almost like drinking watered down mixed-berries punch and trying to identify the berries.
"Uh, Ocellus? You don't look so good."
Ocellus sighs. "I haven't been sleeping well."
Sandbar asks, "Are you going to be okay for the field trip?"
"Maybe bugfriend should stay?" Yona suggests, wearing her concern like a blanket. "Ocellus no want to get sick."
Ocellus shakes her head. "I'll be fine. I'm just... not fully awake yet."
Beside her, she hears Smolder snort. The dragon looks at her, then turns to her friends.
"Ocellus has been having nightmares," Smolder volunteers. "But she doesn't want to talk about them." The dragon's voice is firm. Smolder doesn't want the others to push her or to make a big deal out of this.
Ocellus smiles a small, grateful smile. If Smolder was a changeling, the dragon would be tasting her love right now. Her dreams are... private. She doesn't want to share them with her friends. (Or with strangers. Or any creature.) And the last few have been particularly creepy -- the sort her friends might read too much into. She doesn't want to worry her friends unnecessarily.
"Maybe it's stress?" Silverstream offers. "Sometimes I get totally stressed out when I'm going to visit my family." The pale pink hippogriff pantomimes a freakout, adding, "Ocellus was there last time. I was going nuts!"
"How could you tell?" Smolder snarks to Ocellus.
Gallus waves his talons dismissively. "Well gee, what's there to be stressed about? Surely not this mysterious multi-day field trip we're about to go on that Headmare Starlight won't tell us anything about. Or maybe it's the mysterious test we have in Rarity's class when we get back... that she won't tell us anything about. How can I study if I don't know what I'm supposed to be studying?"
Crap! Ocellus feels her ears flatten. She'd totally forgot about that test! Not that she could have been studying for it, since Rarity didn't say what the test was about. Unless she's supposed to be studying everything! Oh no! She doesn't even know how far back she should re-read. Just this semester's lessons? Or maybe the whole year!...
Gallus' eyes widen and he cringes apologetically "That's... not helping, is it?" With a swallow, he adds, "Sorry about that. My beak is stupid sometimes."
Ocellus looks up at Gallus, feeling weak and panicked and really silly about both. She sees her friends crowding in around her. Their worry is etched in their expressions, in the way they stand, in the slight droop of Silverstream's body. The taste of their love strengthens, like punch that is no longer watered down.
"Hey..." Gallus says. Then, to Ocellus' surprise, the griffon steps close and wraps his wings about her, initiating a hug.
She feels Smolder's strong, scaly arm wrap about her waist as the dragon pulls close. Sandbar moves in, one foreleg outstretched and trying awkwardly to find a way to hug her around Gallus' wings. The blue griffon lifts a wing and instantly Sandbar is pressing close.
Yona and Silverstream join in, the latter hugging Ocellus from above. She is virtually blanketed in friends. Their warmth fills her body. The taste of their love explodes in her receptors. Strawberries and cheese and tar and hot paper lanterns and a dozen other notes that shouldn't work together but blend perfectly. Each distinct yet a harmonious whole that fills her completely.
The changeling nymph shivers in their hold. But she resists; she does not feed. No, this is worth saving.
Ocellus feels her fears and anxieties soften. They do not melt away entirely, but with her friends surrounding her, they seem trivial. Nothing she can't handle.
"Thank you." Ocellus closes her eyes, basking in the warmth of her five dear friends. "I love you too."
As the six students make their way to the front door of the School of Friendship laden with full packs and saddlebags, they pass Professor Rarity in the hall. Ocellus cannot pass up the chance. If she doesn't ask about the upcoming test, the anxiety is going to eat at her for the entire trip.
She turns to tell the others to hold up a moment only to see them already stopping as Yona gallops up to the teacher. Ocellus follows.
"Well if it isn't my two favorite students!" Rarity greets with a smile. Ocellus is sure she calls all her students her favorites. But she also suspects she and Yona do have a special place in the generosity teacher's heart. "How can I help you? All packed?"
Yona nods. "Yona thank Professor Rarity!" The yak smiles brightly at their teacher. "And look forward to working on shawls when Yona get back."
Ocellus nods as well, feeling anxiety knot within her. "Um... I was hoping you could tell me where to focus my studies for the test when we get back?"
Her thoughts flash to the beginning of the school year and standing up for Professor Rarity to Headmare Starlight. The new Headmare, clearly anxious about running the school, had questioned if wine tasting was an appropriate subject for a lesson, especially for young students.
But Ocellus had told Starlight how the lesson personally helped her. For the longest time, she couldn't express to her friends how love tastes, especially when it comes to recognizing flavors she has no experience with. She's never eaten tar or gemstones, for example. But when Rarity taught her friends about wine notes, they finally had a common reference to draw on.
Rarity had been ever so pleased with her.
The changeling nymph really hopes she isn't coming across as asking for special favors. She just wants enough to channel her worry productively.
With a pretty laugh, Rarity waves a hoof at Ocellus. "Oh, no no no. This isn't the sort of test you can study for. The worst thing you can do is overthink it. But don't worry, Ocellus. Just answer from your heart. You'll do just fine."
Ocellus feels relieved that the professor didn't see her question in a bad light. But she isn't sure that the answer makes her feel any better about the test.
The generosity professor beams and waves to them. "Starlight and Trixie are waiting for you out front. Do have a wonderful time!" She pauses tactfully then adds, "Oh, and Yona, when you get back, I've ordered a new swath of electric cerulean. I think it will be big this year, and I'm eager to hear your thoughts on pairing it with the blooming dahlia."
Once Yona is done expressing anticipation for the new fabric, the two friends rejoin the others.
They meet Headmare Starlight and Councilor Trixie outside. Starlight has lunch packs lined up on the grass, each with a colorful silhouette on the side identifying which student each is for.
"Okay students," Starlight announces. "Trixie will be walking with you to the Treehouse in the Everfree Forest. Once you get there, you will have the rest of the day to relax and have fun. I've packed meals for all of you. I really hope I got everything right. Please check to be sure; I can make last minute replacements if needed."
Ocellus and each of her friends move to their lunch packs, examining the content. Ocellus sees two thermoses, a pack of cupcakes from Sugarcube Corner, and a number of sandwiches. The changeling nymph shakes her head, giggling a little, as she sees all her sandwiches have been cut into heart shapes.
It so does not work that way, but she adores the headmare for trying.
Starlight concludes by telling them, "The actual field trip will start from the Treehouse at dusk."
"Huh?" Sandbar asks, looking up.
"Oh..." Silverstream says, blinking. "That's..." She stops, then looks to Gallus. "That's weird, right? Is that weird?"
The blue griffon nods. "Yeah." He turns to Starlight. "Not that I'm complaining about getting to spend a school day at the Treehouse," he says in the most Gallus of tones, "But why? Why so early? And why the escort?"
"It has to start from the Treehouse, and after dark," their headmare insists. "I can't say why without spoiling the surprise, so I won't. As for leaving now, I know that all of you have made many trips to and from the Treehouse on your own, but it would be irresponsible of me to let students take a multi-hour walk through the Everfree Forest without a member of faculty present..."
"And the Great and Powerful Trixie does not want to risk walking back in the dark," Counselor Trixie interjects. "It... did not go so well last time."
Silverstream oohs. "ooooh yeah. I remember!"
Ocellus isn't immediately sure what Silverstream is remembering, but the nods and sounds of agreement from a couple of her other friends assure her that makes sense.
"Okay, now I want everyone to go through their packs one last time," Headmare Starlight instructs, "And make sure you haven't forgotten anything." After a pause, she adds, "You too, Trixie."
"I'm just walking to the Treehouse and back," Trixie replies. "What could I... oh, wait! More smoke bombs!" The counselor gallops back into the school, Starlight rolling her eyes in the wake of the cerulean unicorn's parting.
Her ears shoot up at an exaggerated pop from behind her.
"Well, well, well!" Discord drolls, the draconequus suddenly among them. "I'd say you've forgotten something! You've all forgotten to say goodbye to me!"
Headmare Starlight's eyes narrow with suspicion. But the spirit of chaos is all grins and good cheer, poofing between Silverstream and Gallus, wrapping his arms about them and pulling them into an awkward, crushing hug.
"I'm sure it was an oversight," Discord bubbles. "I really have been hard to reach. The mail pony keeps getting lost in my welcome mat maze."
Ocellus decides not to think about that too much. Or at all.
Yona's eyes go wide as Discord poofs over to her and hugs the yak hard enough to lift two of her hooves from the ground, saying, "But no matter! I'm here now. You all have a safe trip!"
"Uh... thank you?" Yona says, stumbling a little as the draconequus poofs away in a shower of plastic utensils.
Ocellus hears a tinkling of Hearth's Warming bells behind her and feels herself pulled into the draconequus grasp, Discord's right paw rubbing across her saddlebags as he tickles the top of her head with his tail. "Do be sure to write!"
Smolder tries to escape. It's no use. The scrambling orange dragon finds herself trapped in a soap bubble, floating serenely upwards. Discord pops it with a talon and catches her in an embrace. Smolder's expression is not filled with joy.
"Okay, I'm hugged," Smolder grumps. "Let go."
Smolder eeps as she is suddenly dropped, Discord teleporting away in a burst of rose petals to hug Sandbar next.
"Discord..." Starlight begins.
Discord lets go, pulling a handkerchief out of Sandbar's left ear and blowing his nose nastily before waving it, flinging snot. "Goodbye! Au revoir! Arrivederci! Buen Viaje!" He calls out, even though none of them are going anywhere. "Have fun storming the palace!"
The spirit of chaos poofs away with fanfare. Leaving behind one eye that winks at Ocellus before poofing also.
Ocellus blinks, staring at where the eye vanished. Well, that's certainly not going to add to her stress.
Trixie comes galloping back. "Okay, I'm really ready now," the unicorn insists, panting. She pauses, taking in the wide-eyed expressions and disheveled looks of several of the students. Smolder is picking herself up off the ground.
"Did I miss anything?"
The afternoon sun filters through the Everfree canopy, dappling the undergrowth and the path that winds through it. A soft breeze rustles the leaves above and gently brushes at the feathers and manes of the traveling group.
Counselor Trixie walks ahead with confidence, humming a little tune. The Everfree Forest doesn't worry her... in the daylight, at least. Occasionally, Ocellus hears her break into a line or two of song before returning to her humming.
"...see me dominate! Cuz I'm powerful and greaa-aaa-at!"
Behind Trixie, Ocellus and her friends chatter amiably about everything and nothing. It is a good day, and spirits are high. Spending a school day at the Treehouse sounds marvelous, even to Ocellus. She's too weary from her lack of sleep to focus properly on new lessons, so she sees this as good fortune.
Her weariness has not soured her mood, but it has left her quiet. She hasn't really joined into the conversations, falling to the back of the group. But she is enjoying the forest, and the company of her friends.
A few minutes ago, the talking ahead of her turned to the topic of her visit to Seaquestria with Silverstream. The hippogriff was still gushing about it. Right now, she was excitedly telling Sandbar and Gallus about their race through the corals. By far not for the first time, but it was fun to listen to. Silverstream couldn't tell the story without using swoops and swirls and rambunctious pantomimes as punctuation. And every time she told the story, her embellishments were different enough to keep it fresh.
"That sounds so cool!" Sandbar says appreciatively.
Gallus nods in agreement. "I can't believe you wanted to go with that donkey instead of us!"
Silverstream's face falls. The hippogriff sputters, looking heartbroken. "Bwuh... but... no! I didn't! I... it..."
Gallus was joking, of course. But Silverstream clearly hasn't caught on to that yet, and her distress is painful. Ocellus breaks her quiet, jumping in to bail the hippogriff out. "It was a friendship quest, Gallus. No tag-alongs allowed."
Ocellus tastes a brief essence of blueberries and tapioca. Nice. She smiles back at Silverstream.
The map had called Silverstream because she knew the seas surrounding Seaquestria, and it called Cranky Doodle because he was old friends with Steven Magnet, who had moved to the outskirts of Seaquestria to be with his new boyfriend. Unfortunately, they were having serious trouble with their neighbor, a giant squid. Ocellus' ability to sense love within the squid's jealousy revealed how to fix the problem. But not before Ocellus had made an even worse mess of it. Encouraging the three to share their love had been the solution. Turning into another giant squid definitely had not.
Ocellus had been feeling pretty bad about that when they first returned to the School of Friendship. But from what Headmare Starlight told them afterwards, making things worse before fixing them was par for the course in friendship quests.
"Next time I go home, you are all invited!" Sliverstream announces, flying above them with her arms spread wide.
Most of her friends embrace the idea happily. Sandbar particularly, saying something about a family home on the beach. Yona looks considerably less excited but unwilling to voice anything beyond agreement. Ocellus doesn't blame her. Yona can't swim, and she hasn't had the best experiences with water on field trips. But Silverstream is now insisting she will get transformation necklaces for all of them...
"Pass," Smolder states flatly.
"Aww," Silverstream pouts with exaggeration. "Why not? Don't you want to see my home?"
"Your magic pearl and dragons don't mix."
The pink hippogriff swoops up to pinch Smolder's left cheek. "Aw, but you'd make such a cute pufferfish!"
Smolder shoos the offending claw away. "Tell me, are feathers flammable?"
Trixie stops to look at her, but everyone else knows Smolder would never intentionally injure a friend like that. And since they did all know that, the retort was fair game.
And because she knows it is a joke, Silverstream runs with it. "Oooh! I'd be like a phoenix!" She swoops into the air, somersaulting. Then freezes as the dour look that falls over Smolder tells the hippogriff she ran with it in the wrong direction.
"Silverstream, I can't believe you said the F-word!" Sandbar chides.
Ocellus opens her muzzle to correct him, then lets it drop as she hears Gallus snerk. That was probably a joke, meant to lighten the mood. And even if it wasn't, there was nothing to be gained continuing this conversation. Smolder didn't seem any more interested in talking about phoenixes than Ocellus felt about discussing her night terrors. And friends didn't push.
Silverstream lands next to Smolder. "Sorry. Forget I said that."
Smolder smiles. "No problem." To Ocellus, the smile seems a little forced.
For the rest of the walk through the Everfree, Ocellus has the dragon's quiet company.
Golden sunlight filters through the arched windows of the Treehouse, snaring on floating motes of dust and crystal pollen, filling the air with dancing stars.
Ocellus lays upon a cluster of pillows on the faceted lavender floor of the second floor common room. She flips the page of her textbook. Then flips it back. The first line on the new page made no sense, giving her the impression that she skipped a page. Or that she lost the author's train of reasoning somewhere in the previous paragraph.
The words sit on the page, lazy and persistent in their inscrutability.
Ocellus stares at the page, not truly reading. Just willing comprehension. She's not sure she has absorbed anything. She closes her eyes. She's weary. And a little hungry. But mostly, she just feels out of it. Like her mind is in a slight fog and her thoughts are muddy.
She tried taking a nap shortly after they reached the Treehouse and Trixie started back. But while the walk through the Everfree Forest failed to invigorate, it did make her less tired. She was unable to fall asleep and ended up laying there pointlessly. Eventually, she grabbed a book.
Ocellus closes the book, momentarily unsure what she was reading. She sighs again and decides to leave it closed. Staring at the cover would be more productive right now.
She hears a soft clack from the crystalwood table behind her.
Sandbar and Yona are off being Sandbar and Yona. Gallus is down by the stream hunting fish. ("Lunches at the School of Friendship are delicious but they lack protein," insisted the predator clearly eager to get his hunt on), and Silverstream is... probably in her room? Somewhere. Not here. It's too quiet for her to be here. Unless she's asleep. And maybe not even then.
Smolder is the only other one nearby. The lunches that Starlight packed for Ocellus' roommate included a small bag of gemstones for dessert. So to the surprise of no creature, Smolder gleefully devoured them first. After picking out all the chrysoprase. Ocellus had questioned if they were inedible, and the orange dragon shrugged them off as "the lima beans of gemstones".
Another clack. She glances back to see Smolder stacking the chrysoprase into a tower.
Ocellus looks back to her book, her tail swaying. The girl stifles a giggle at the thought that Smolder was literally playing with her food. Unlike changelings, dragons could get away with that. At least when the food was gemstones.
The taste of cherrywood and hot spices drifts from Smolder as the dragon looks over at her. Ocellus absently nibbles it. Cherrywood, ghost pepper... and...
Ocellus is shocked out of her mildly fugue-like state by two nearly-simultaneous realizations. First, because Smolder's love has an undercurrent of attraction beneath the normal friendship and caring, and the more recently-common concern. Second, because the moment she realizes the first, she also realizes she is her dragon form.
Ocellus immediately transforms back while spurting out apologies, her mind a jumble. She changed? Without intending to? Without even realizing it? How is that possible?!
The tower of chrysoprase clatters to the table as Smolder sits up suddenly, then takes to the air, flying over to her roommate. "Hey, I don't mind! Really. You can be a dragon around me whenever you want."
Ocellus shuts down her receptors in a panic, a host of new worries piling on top of the mountain already crushing her:
Is Smolder attracted to her? Or to a dragon form that isn't really her? Did part of her know that? Did she subconsciously change into her dragon form because she was hungry and knew Smolder would give her love to snack on?
Smolder lands in front of Ocellus. "Seriously, I'm cool with it..." Her voice trails off as the dragon drinks in Ocellus' expression. "You're shaking," the orange dragon observes.
The one thing Ocellus is sure about is that Smolder doesn't realize how she was feeling. Otherwise, she is sure Smolder would be reacting differently... embarrassed or upset or something, rather than just concerned.
"Okay, 'Celly, what the heck is up with you?"
Ocellus stares at the floor, unable to meet the wide cerulean eyes that are staring at her with a fierceness that burns away the scaffolding of her facade. Her gaze shifts left and right as she feels trapped in that gaze. There is a fire there that draws her, like a moth to a candle. She cannot flee. If she touches it, she will burn.
She is absolutely not ready to deal with any of the questions that came with what she just sensed. She can't see a way to talk to Smolder about it without forcing the dragon to confront what she was feeling. And if Smolder has no idea, then she's not ready. Doing that could cause damage. Possibly even kill newborn feelings. Ocellus doesn't dare.
Another option penetrates the buzz of her mind and she latches onto it as if she had been drowning. Admit something else she hasn't been dealing with. A substitute. A sacrifice. There is something she hasn't wanted to share with the others, but... but Smolder won't judge. They share other secrets. Smolder is safe.
"I... I've been struggling with my sense of self," she says slowly. The words feel heavy, like she is having to pull them out of a pit to give them voice. "I feel like I don't know who I really am sometimes. There are days I wake up, and for a moment I've forgotten. I'll even wake up in other forms..."
Ocellus looks up at Smolder. The dragon is still, quiet. Listening. She knows Smolder has noticed the last part. It is very rare, but Smolder couldn't help but notice the one time Ocellus woke her up by transforming into a bugbear in her sleep. The dragon ribbed her quite a bit in the week that followed, particularly considering their argument over who should get the top bunk.
"And even when I'm awake, sometimes I have to stop and think: what would Ocellus do? Like... I'm not me." The changeling nymph blinks back unexpected tears. "Maybe I have too many forms, and I'm forgetting which is the real me. I don't know. But it's... terrifying when it happens."
Smolder's eyes narrow. "That bugbear thing where the school had to give us new bunk beds was months ago. How long have you been dealing with this? Without telling any of your friends? Without telling me?"
Ocellus almost flinches. Smolder has the right to be upset. They tell each other everything... or at least they are supposed to. They have secret tea parties that none of their friends are supposed to even know about. Smolder has definitely confided in her things that make her feel deeply vulnerable. Things that she can't bring herself to bare to anyone else.
A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispers: there is one thing she hasn't.
Ocellus stands up, shaking her head. "It's not that easy. If a dragon says she isn't feeling like herself, everyone at least pretends to get it. Or they ignore it. When a changeling says they don't feel like themselves, it weirds creatures out. They start projecting all sorts of crazy fears they have about us from back when we were... evil." Her voice trails off with the last word.
Smolder's expression immediately softens. "You still should let us try to help. That's not something you should have to deal with alone."
Ocellus sighs. "It's not like I never tried. I even went to Counselor Starlight about it once, back when this started. But that wasn't helpful. And then so much happened. And, well, I didn't want to burden anyone else with it."
Smolder gives her a long look before giving Ocellus a soft, thin smile. "Okay. I get it. I'm not exactly a counselor, or the leader of your hive's Feelings Forum. As much as I want to help, I don't know how." She steps closer. "I mean, I'd offer a tea party, but maybe dressing up isn't the best attack plan for this."
Ocellus smiles back, stepping forward and wrapping the dragon in a gentle embrace. Unlike with Discord, Smolder gives no resistance. "Just having someone to talk to about it is already making me feel better."
No sooner has Ocellus begun to get her head back in order when Smolder asks "Hey, what's that?" and points to her saddlepack.
There is a slip of paper tucked into a strap that has started to fall out. Ocellus blinks twice, staring at the foreign object. "I... don't know. I never put it there." Honestly, she'd be more careful to secure anything she wrote or needed to read. It is a small miracle it didn't fall out somewhere in the Everfree Forest.
Her first guess is that one of their other friends wedged the note in her strap while they were walking. Probably Gallus. It really seems like something he would do. She must have been really half-asleep to have not noticed that.
She pulls it out and unfolds it, beginning to read.
It's a series of questions. Her eyes widen as she recognizes Professor Rarity's writing. The first one asks:
"Would you sacrifice yourself for a friend?"
Ocellus immediately knows the answer is yes. They've all risked their lives to save one of their friends. And even if it was a sure sacrifice, she knows she would do that. For any of them, although the one coming to her thoughts most immediately is Smolder considering they were just holding each other.
"Would you sacrifice yourself for a stranger?"
That question is not as immediate in her heart, but she feels the answer is still yes. But it is the third question that stops her dead, making her heart feel cold:
"Would you sacrifice one of your friends for a hundred strangers?"
Her eyes locked. Ocellus barely sees the next question before Smolder looks over her shoulder, gasps, and asks, "Is that a copy of Professor Rarity's test?!"
Ocellus hurls the paper away as if it's on fire, the icy paralysis breaking at the thought she may have just cheated on a test by getting the questions early!
Smolder is very quick to suss things out. "Discord! He slipped that in your saddlepack when he hugged you. He must have!"
"What?" Ocellus squeaks.
Smolder backs up, nodding. The young dragon snorts a bit of smoke, balling her claws into fists as she surmises, "Discord has been spying on everyone. Again. He must have seen you talking to Professor Rarity about the test, seen how stressed you've been. And decided to "help"."
"BY MAKING ME CHEAT!??"
Smolder crosses her arms over her breast. "Yeah, he has a funny way of helping." The dragon snorts a bit of flame this time, her eyes narrowed. Then she turns to Ocellus, seeing the nymph frozen and trembling. Smolder puts on a bright smile for her friend.
"Don't worry! Professor Rarity will understand," Smolder assures her. "She's dealt with Discord."
Ocellus feels a small flare of thankfulness that the dragon doesn't even try to suggest being dishonest about having seen it. The changeling nymph is already making telling Rarity the first priority when they get back. Part of her wants to fly back right now and tell her.
The dragon ambles over and picks up the test off the floor, holding it between the claws of her thumb and forefinger like it is Discord's used handkerchief. She holds it away from herself.
"And you barely read any of it, right?" Smolder mitigates with an assurance bordering on smugness. "The moment we realized what it was, we destroyed it so neither of us or any of our friends would see any more."
Ocellus' panicked expression collapses into a confused one... until Smolder turns to the test and breathes fire, reducing it to ash.
The smells of evening permeate the air as the sky is slowly painted with shades of magenta and violet, darkening to a rich eggplant where the first stars are visible. Having put the sun to bed, somewhere in Canterlot, Princess Twilight Sparkle is raising the moon to its rightful place in the night sky.
Ocellus steps out onto the cool grass. The changeling nymph closes her eyes, feeling the breeze on her face. Enjoying how it tickles the membranes of her mane and tail.
Ironically, she feels more awake now than she has all day. Ocellus muses that irony has not been her friend for much of the day. Maybe now it is trying to make amends?
She hears the voices of her friends. They are gathered near a chunk of the old wall from the Castle of the Two Sisters. From the melody delighting Ocellus' ears, Gallus' hunt was a good one. The griffon sounds like he is in particularly high spirits.
Ocellus opens her elytra and spreads her wings. With a few dozen beats, she lifts into the air and begins to glide over to her friends, keeping her eyes closed and allowing the noise to guide her.
"So, where have you been off to?" Gallus's cheery voice carries. "We haven't seen you for hours!"
Ocellus opens her eyes, her answer on her lips, assuming Gallus is addressing her. But it is Silverstream who has the griffon's attention. And the bubbly hippogriff's answer causes Ocellus to break her wing-rhythm, nearly dropping to the ground.
"I was getting stoned!" the hippogriff announces enthusiastically. "You should try it. It's really fun!"
Gallus stares at Silverstream, his beak agape. Finally, he manages a nearly deadpan, "Whut?"
"Next time we come to the Treehouse, I'll introduce you to Edith!" Silverstream promises. "She's the best!"
Ocellus has never seen the griffon look so completely at a loss for words. Smolder is not, commenting dryly, "Well, this explains a lot."
Silverstream just beams happily.
Ocellus decides not to question any of that. Or think about it. Either this will explain itself in time or it won't. Instead, she turns and looks back towards the Treehouse, enjoying the way the crystal glimmers in the light of the rising moon.
A dark spot appears on the moon. And grows.
Ocellus squints. No, she is wrong. There is something in the sky between them and the moon. And it isn't growing larger; it is coming closer.
"Uh..." Ocellus points upwards. "Everyone? Look!"
The voices of her friends quiet. Then begin to murmur with building anticipation, the consensus being that this is their promised field trip.
Yona is the first to identify the approaching shadow. "Luna!" The yak calls out, waving. "Yona think friend Silverstream right!"
"We are going to Silver Shoals!" Silverstream squees. The idea is met with applause and woops!
Ocellus squints again, feeling slightly frustrated that she cannot make the dark blob in the sky look like Luna. But as the shadow draws closer, it becomes clear to her why.
"What's with the chariot?" Gallus asks.
"Not all of us can fly, remember?" Sandbar retorts.
"I meant to ask: what do you think that is in the back of it?" Gallus counter-retorts.
Luna's silhouette is being obfuscated by the long, bat-winged chariot she is pulling. A chariot laden with a tall package covered in a tarp. One corner of the tarp has come loose and is flapping in the wind. Ocellus can hear the snapping of the canvas.
Ocellus joins her friends in rushing to greet the former princess as Luna lands, coming to a gentle stop with the chariot, letting the chains harnessing her to it fall slack.
"Good evening, students," Luna says, smiling as her horn glows with cobalt light and the harness is removed from her body with a flash. Ocellus briefly wonders what the trip must have been like for Luna, pulling a chariot she once rode in while it was pulled by her royal guards.
"Oh wow! I never imagined you would be guiding our field trip!" Silverstream gasps, leaving Ocellus to wonder if it has slipped her friend's mind that the school's first headmare was a princess. The excited hippogriff immediately asks, "Are we going to Silver Shoals?"
The night alicorn's eyebrows raise. "No," Luna answers. "We are going much farther than that." Ocellus catches a small, knowing smile.
"So, what's under the blanket?" Smolder asks, looking at the object standing in the chariot, wrapped in canvas and bound in chains.
Luna chuckles as the barrage of questions continue. They come faster than she can answer, so she just stands there and waits for the group of friends to find their patience.
When the questions fall silent, Luna's horn glows once again. The chains about the object vanish and the tarp slides free.
Ocellus stares at her reflection, and those of her friends, in the mirror.
The mirrored surface does not seem to be glass but liquid mercury held magically to form within a stretched horseshoe-shaped frame made of, at Ocellus' best guess, limestone. There are black opals set within the frame, and ornate trellises of silvery metal swirling around the outer edge. The mirror rises from a multi-stepped base and is crowned with a large circle made of pearl held above the frame by crepuscular rays.
"This," Luna informs them, "is a mirror portal. There are only a few in the world. They are capable of opening passages far beyond any creature's ability to teleport, allowing travel to the farthest parts of our world, to distant realms... even to other worlds."
Luna seems pleased by the collective "WHOA!"
"It previously required the Elements of Harmony to send someone the distance we are going to travel tonight," Luna announces, "But worry not. Starswirl has assured me this mirror is up to the task."
Ocellus feels Luna's eyes on her as the night alicorn looks at each of the students in turn.
"Especially as we are on the grounds where the Tree of Harmony once stood, the six of you had a special connection to it." Luna turns her gaze to the Treehouse. "...and clearly it has not entirely left this place."
Ocellus looks at her friends, all of whom are looking at each other with a mixture of expressions.
"Now, gather your things as I work the magic to open the portal," Luna instructs. "I am sure you are all eager to see where you are going."
The race to grab their things is so fast that they leave colored blurs in their wake. Considering her poor sleep the night before, Ocellus is unsurprised to find herself the last to get back, her saddlebags strapped to her body once again. The others are gathered around Luna. The night alicorn's head is lowered, her horn pointing at the top of the mirror. A beam of cobalt light shines out of it, lighting up the pearl disk above the mirror's frame.
As Ocellus joins the rest of them, the disk begins to glow with a soft, ethereal white light. The light slides down along the crepuscular rays and over the silver trellises. The mercury surface of the mirror ripples, then begins to glow, turning a bright white.
Luna smiles, maintaining the beam of her magic. "I will be the last through..."
The disk above the mirror flares black, looking suddenly like a moon eclipsed. Black energy oozes down the crepuscular rays like spilled ink. The trellises turn ebony. The black energy infects the stream of magic pouring out of Luna's horn. The night alicorn cries out.
The white light shining from the mirror collapses, the mirror becoming a black hole. A necrotic horror washes over Ocellus as she is suddenly reminded of the mirror in her dream, reflecting nothing.
Ocellus feels something in the void of the mirror staring back at her.
Luna grunts, twisting her head, clearly trying to break the connection. Her horn is surrounded in black energy. What was a beam of light has become a snare of shadow.
"Luna in trouble!" Yona cries out. The yak charges at the mirror, head lowered, horns aimed.
Black tentacles come out of the mirror, enveloping the charging yak. More slither out, moving with shocking alacrity -- writhing snakes of grease and black smoke. Ocellus flies backwards, but they are too fast. One ensnares her, its touch making her body feel numb. It begins to wrap around her like a snake about to constrict.
To one side, she sees Sandbar turn and buck the tentacle reaching for him. To the other, she sees Silverstream somersault, attempting to avoid a tentacle's grasp, only for it to snare her wing. With a swirling flash of yellow and dusty rose, Silverstream transforms into a seapony, slipping from the tentacle's grasp. She hears a shout from Gallus. A crackle of fire.
The tentacle encircling Ocellus wraps around her head, covering her eyes. Everything turns black as the changeling nymph feels her brain go numb.
Ocellus feels cold marble beneath her body. She is laying down, although she does not remember collapsing. The air is achingly cold, and the polished stone floor is colder still, reminding her of Hearth's Warming Eve tales of the windigos. She shifts, getting her hooves beneath her, and pushes herself upright. She cannot see her hooves beneath her. The lack of light is absolute.
The darkness feels neither oppressive nor smothering, nor filled with unseen lurkers. Instead, it feels cavernous, ancient and lonely. There is no wind. There are no smells. This is no cave, nor is it her hive. She tastes the air and finds nothing. A complete absence of love.
Ocellus turns, looking all around her, straining to see anything at all. Her hooves echo.
Far in the distance, high above, she sees a single source of light. The illumination is dim, coming from a perfect rectangle that cuts the dark horizontally, itself bisected multiple times. A window? In the ceiling? A skylight? Yes, a skylight. At night, or possibly underground. She would have to get closer to tell.
A notion washes over her that she is in the School of Friendship, but it has been long abandoned and an even longer winter has come.
The young changeling shivers, shaking off the feeling like a pony shaking off the rain. Where are her friends? What happened to Yona? Did Sandbar or Silverstream or Gallus escape and manage to rescue her? Ocellus feels a pang of guilt as she realizes she never even saw what was happening to Smolder. She only heard the dragon's fire breath.
The nymph closes her eyes. Whatever happened, wherever they are, they are not here. That suggests what has happened to her is unique. Still, her first instinct is to call out for them.
"Smolder!?" she shouts. The name echoes back to her over and over in the darkness.
"Gallus!? Silverstream?!" She cups her hooves to her muzzle, trying to be her own blowhorn. "Yona!! Sandbar!! Anybody!??"
She gets only echoes in return. Followed by silence.
She is alone.
After a few minutes of trying, she stops.
Ocellus takes stock of herself. She feels uninjured. There is no pain. She is, to her relief, neither thirsty nor hungry. If she did lose consciousness, it was not for long. Having no other plan, and seeing no alternate plan but to stay put and die, Ocellus begins to walk in the direction of the dim rectangle of light.
The floor under her hooves is cold, even and smooth. The cold is unpleasant, but in the darkness it is an anchor to reality and direction. Despite the uncomfortable cold pressing against the bottoms of her hooves, Ocellus chooses not to fly and lose all sense of distance from anything solid. She regrets not acquiring a form with bioluminescence. Maybe one of those fish with a light on its head? On second thought, the lack of water would be a problem.
There is no sense of time, but Ocellus knows she has not been walking long, having traveled no more than the length of the school gymnasium, when blue fire erupts from sconces to either side of her, gently pushing back the darkness to reveal walls that look a dusky cornflower in the light. More sconces of blue flame alight ahead of her, pair-by-pair, revealing a hallway. The walls bear a march of white crescents that slowly grow to become a circle, then the procession reverses -- the phases of the moon.
She steps closer to the wall, observing the sconces, ascertaining that they reacted to her approach. They are made of a shiny metal -- one that, thanks to Professor Rarity's class, she can identify as moonsilver. Ocellus spots a vine creeping out of a hole in the wall and up into the base of the sconce. It is barely visible. Looking closer, the vine has fine purple leaves and lesions in its bark that glow almost imperceptibly with a lavender light.
Ahead, the skylight rests in the ceiling held within a framework that extends from columns of cobalt stone above an intersection with a hallway running perpendicular to her own. That one is adorned with a purple carpet with darker purple emblems she believes she has seen in Canterlot decor. Old shapes historically associated with royalty, or at least the uppermost of society. (She is thankful she paid so much attention in Professor Rarity's class as she recognizes among them the fleur de lis.) This is a castle or palace... or perhaps a Canterlot school?
As she approaches, she looks up through the skylight at the night above. A chill passes through her that is not from the cold of the building. There is no moon to be seen, but that does not surprise her. The moon is not visible from every window during the night. No, what strikes her is how black and dead the space is between the stars. Luna's nights are always beautiful, even romantic. But this night sky is soulless and empty. Even the stars seem cold, like the light of ghosts.
Out of the corner of her eye, something moves in the darkness of the intersecting hallway.
"Hello?" Ocellus calls out, feeling a knot tie in her chest. Silence answers.
The changeling nymph buzzes her wings, building up courage. She was a student of the School of Friendship. If her lessons have taught her anything, the best way to tackle a foreign and scary situation is to make a friend.
"Hello?" she tries again, darting in the direction of the movement.
As she passes a darkened doorway, she hears something shift inside. She draws up short, hovering over the purple carpet, then turns back. She peeks around the doorway, looking into the darkness. "H-hello? Is there any creature in here?"
Ocellus's mind flashes back to being trapped in the caves beneath the school, being tested by the Tree of Harmony. She feels what Yona must have felt. A blanket of unease has settled over her; a frightening sense that she is surrounded by beings she cannot see.
Maybe they are like the spiders. Are they more frightened of her than she is of them? Or, drawing from personal experience, perhaps they are just shy?
"Hello?" she calls out for the fourth time, landing cautiously and stepping into the shadow-swallowed room. She can barely make out the forms of chairs surrounding one end of a long table. Table settings. Goblets and plates. A candelabra with tall candles. "My name is Ocellus. I don't mean you any harm. I'm just lost."
Ocellus jumps as one of the candles falls from the candelabra with a soft thump.
With a soft rasping sound, the fallen candle rolls across the table. Ocellus watches, transfixed, as the barely-visible shape reaches the edge and falls off. Thump.
Ocellus feels her eyes widen. Her wings tremble beneath her elytra. A Smolder-like voice in her head whispers nope!
Ocellus spreads her wings and back-swoops out of the room. The changeling nymph spins about and shoots back towards the intersection beneath the skylight.
Ocellus flies slowly, her hooves just above the carpet, traveling in the opposite direction of the creepy room. She sees something ahead, crouched against a wall, and she stops.
"Hello?" she tries one more time, walking forward. As she nears, she glimpses a single, slitted, blue eye staring at her. "My name is Ocellus. I'm from the School of Friendship..."
With a flumph, the sconce on the wall opposite the crouched figure erupts in blue flame.
Ocellus' heart skips a beat, her muscles tightening under her chitin.
The revealed form isn't a creature. It is a cabinet.
Ocellus relaxes, blushing at herself. Lit by blue flame, the changeling nymph approaches the hall sideboard and examines it. The sideboard's rich, dark wood is carved with gothic engravings of bats. Set in the center above its cabinet doors is a large blue chrysoberyl that reminds Ocellus uncomfortably of one of Smolder's eyes.
The changeling nymph inspects the cat's eye stone, almost expecting its gaze to follow her. Professor Rarity once told them that you could tell a lot about a host by their furniture, but that you must understand the furniture before drawing conclusions. That lesson had culminated with a trip to Zecora's hut in the Everfree Forest.
Ocellus has no idea what to make of the cabinet. If this was on a test, she has the sinking notion she would fail.
Her ease is shattered by a skittering from above her. The sound pricks at her ears and all her tension snaps back into place. Ocellus steps back, looking upwards, trying to spot the source in the vaulted gloom of the hallway's ceiling.
Shadows stare back from the ribbing that splays out from the capital of every column, intersecting in a spider web pattern across the vaulting.
Ocellus slowly turns back to the sideboard, only to shoot another look at the ceiling, expecting those shadows to try to move the moment she takes her eyes off them.
The shadows insist there is nothing above her but the ceiling.
Ocellus lets out a shaky breath. Her eyes return to the gothic, bat-themed sideboard once more, falling on the cabinet doors.
She normally wouldn't even think of rummaging through some other creature's things. But she is lost, and any clue the cabinet might provide would be a welcome one. She tries to open the doors. The sideboard is locked.
A gut feeling pushes Ocellus to reach a hoof for the cat's eye gemstone. She touches it gently, feeling the cold, polished surface. Then presses.
The changeling nymph is rewarded with a satisfying click. The cabinet doors pop open.
She stops, turning to shoot another look at the vaulted ceiling. Still nothing. Then she opens the doors of the cabinet and looks inside.
The small lantern looks back at Ocellus like a long lost friend. The cabinet is empty save for the little hooded lantern made of black metal. It has a handle, a little swinging door, and a half-circle button on the base.
Ocellus reaches in, grabbing the handle in her mouth, and pulls out the lantern, setting it on top of the sideboard. She presses the button.
The lantern ignites with blue flame.
Ocellus walks towards the creepy room, the lantern's handle carried in her mouth. The blue flame casts light into the shadows where the light from the wall sconces do not reach... or the sconces fail to light. Its defiant heat struggles to keep the cold at bay.
With each step, the dark doorway draws closer. Ocellus' heart is a kettle drum. Little slivers of ice are pricking her flesh beneath the chitin.
The changeling nymph reaches the doorway and steps inside, holding the little lantern high.
She finds herself in a dining room with a long table and tall chairs, the one at the far end positively throne-like. The table is still set with empty plates, plus silverware and goblets made of moonsilver. Three candelabras march down the center of the table, their candles tilting in rebellion. A few wax soldiers have fallen to the tablecloth. One lays on the floor.
There are doorways on all four walls. The largest is framed in fluted pillars. The doorway opposite is the only one with a pair of doors. Swirling moonsilver latticework, reminiscent of the vines that crawl over the walls of the old castle, hold translucent panes of crystal in various shades of blue. Cerulean gemstones embedded in the latticework catch the light of the lantern, seeming to glow.
Something moves out of the corner of her eye again. She spins, illuminating a statue of a bat-winged pony, the lantern's light casting a shadow on the wall behind. She hears something shift somewhere. Breathing more quickly, she backs up, bumping into the table.
In a flash of green, one of the goblets transforms. Ocellus spins, gasping, the lantern falling from her lips as she sees the black, hole-pocked carapace of a love-starved changeling. Numbness creeps up Ocellus' limbs. A great hollow opens in her chest and she feels like she is falling into an internal abyss.
The drone glares down at her from atop the table, eyes narrowed and tongue snapping out in a hateful hiss.
Why do you look like that?! The memory from the caves beneath the school stabs her mind.
Another eruption of green fire engulfs the fallen candle, revealing another hostile drone. Several more flashes reflect in the moonsilver table settings.
Ocellus runs!
Galloping out one of the other doorways, she opens her elytra and spreads her wings. Her heart is in her throat, threatening to choke her. The pricks of ice beneath her chitin have become a frigid waterfall. The abyss within her grows.
Ocellus is paying no attention to where she is going. Only what she is trying to get away from.
From behind, the buzz of drone wings violates the silence. Ahead, meager blue flames erupt sporadically in hallways of darkness, giving her just enough light to keep from slamming into a wall as she races down the hallways, chased by the love-starved changelings.
Ocellus dodges around a corner and throws herself against the wall, pressing into the crevice between the stonework and a pillar. She wants to change into a rock, but she is afraid the energy flash of her transformation will reveal her hiding spot.
She hears the buzz of the patrol grow closer. Louder. Closer still.
Then they pass. Ocellus' breath stops as her ears catch the soft change in the buzzing. One drone stops to peer through the opening. She can feel it searching for her, its gaze probing the room.
Then it is gone, flying off to join the rest of the patrol.
Ocellus releases the air in her lungs, her body sliding down the wall. Her hooves touch the floor, sinking slightly into the cold carpet, her legs trembling beneath her. The changeling nymph takes one shuddering breath after another. Every nerve in her body feels frayed, like she tussled with a swarm of twittermites.
She focuses, trying to steady her breathing. She wants to sit and meditate until her body and mind can find their way back to some semblance of normal. She doesn't dare stay in one place that long.
Everything is wrong. Horribly wrong. But she knows what she just fled from. No changeling from her hive will ever forget.
Click.
Ocellus jerks about, her eyes locking on the door at the back of the room she is hiding in, beyond gothic loveseats and couches. The door is swinging open.
For a moment, a hope dances in her head. Could it be one of her friends, lost and wandering as she was? She longs to see Smolder coming through the door, her fiery orange in contrast to the oppressive blues...
Hope crashes against cold reality as a drone steps through, a saddlepack strapped across its back beneath its wings. He stops, eyes widening as he spots her. The air between them seems to grow colder and thinner.
Ocellus spins and flees back the way she came. As she circles around the pillar, she sees the drone leap over a lounge sofa and chase after her.
Ocellus' wing-muscles burn. Her heart is pounding so fast she fears it will burst. The danger of running back into the patrol slaps her across the face, the burst of fear nearly crippling her. She can't just keep running.
Ocellus dives into the next room with an open door. She spares only a second to look around, then grabs a vase from a chiffonier, huddling just inside the entry frame. She listens to the growing sound of the drone's wings. He isn't far behind.
Ocellus smashes the vase across the face of the pursuing changeling as it enters.
The blow knocks the drone to the ground. He sprawls across the marble floor, the fall snapping his saddlepack open. Two orbs -- each the size of an orange and made of a softly glowing greenish substance -- roll out of the love-starved changeling's pack. The drone's eyes widen and he leaps into the air, forgetting Ocellus completely and evacuating the area as fast as his wings allow.
Ocellus takes the hint and hides behind the chiffonier. Even at a glance, she knew exactly what those orbs are made of.
One of the orbs stops in the middle of the hallway. The other keeps rolling until it hits the sharp-edged base of a pillar.
SPLORCK!
The room is lit by a grotesque splatter of glowing green syrup. Clumps of it stick to the tall buffet opposite her, dripping from the trim, rapidly hardening.
Ocellus stares at the green, the fleeing changeling momentarily forgotten.
Yep. Exactly what she knew it was.
The adrenaline pumping through her body is holding her terror at bay enough to keep her wits together. She knows she will have a proper, Headmare-worthy freak-out soon. But for now, her mind thinks back to the last moments of her love-starved hive.
Starlight Glimmer peeks out from behind her rock, her gaze searching for any avenue of escape. Any shred of hope. She sees her friend, Thorax, captured and bound to the floor by the Queen's royal resin. Something catches her eye. His wings...
"What if you didn't have to?"
Ocellus puts a hoof over her heart, feeling it pound through the chitin over her breast. She lowers the hoof and slowly pushes herself back off the floor.
One of the many abilities possessed by a changeling queen is the ability to vomit up a viscous green jelly that quickly hardens into a magically resistant preserving resin. Great in large doses for cocooning her prey... or in small batches for sticking a disguised draconequus to the cavern floor.
Normal drones couldn't create it. And that meant there was a queen here. And not Chrysalis. She's still trapped in stone with Tirek and Cozy Glow. Not only that, but in all her time, Chrysalis never thought to weaponize that jelly, much less entrust it to her drones. Those orbs: that green glow was the magic of a changeling queen holding a great amount of the goo in a fresh and highly condensed package. One that was under pressure and clearly unstable.
Ocellus steps out from behind the chiffonier and carefully flies over the hardening puddles, dodging green goop as it drips from the ceiling, hardening into stalactites. She picks up the orb sitting innocently on a bare patch of floor, surrounded by the gore of its sister. Then pulls a bag out of her saddlebags. A turquoise velvet bag with a golden drawstring.
"Sorry, Sandbar," Ocellus whispers before she dumps the dice out of the dice bag Sandbar gave her last Hearth's Warming Eve and gently rolls the glowing orb of changeling queen jelly into it.
Even with her head spinning in confusion and her heart seizing in fear, her intellect has not abandoned her. The changeling nymph cannot help but reason that something like this could come in really useful.
She scoops up the dice and tosses them randomly into her saddlebags. Except for the brown and green four-sided one. Because it hates her and deserves to be left in a creepy palace in the middle of who-knows-where for betraying her last Sunday.
Ocellus sticks her tongue out at the abandoned dice. The adrenaline was wearing off, and being silly made her feel better.
She is trembling.
No no no no no no no. This can't be happening!
Ocellus huddles in a dark corner between the chiffonier and the wall. The adrenaline is gone. And with it, the barrier between herself and the full horror of what is happening. She clutches her saddlebags to her breast, trying to make her breathing as quiet as possible.
I just fought a changeling! I think it wanted to kill me!
Her heart thuds loudly inside her chest like a war drum beating out a warning of doom. Telling her she is alive. Ocellus squeezes her eyes closed, wishing for everything to go away. Praying to open them to her dorm room. Or maybe the catacombs. But they open to see the dark, alien room. Ocellus bites back a squeak of despair.
She's trapped. There are "evil" changelings everywhere. A whole love-starved hive with their own queen.
She keeps looking at her forearms, checking for holes, making sure her hooves are still her color. The last time she saw love-starved changelings, it was in the catacombs under the school. They weren't real; the Tree of Harmony was testing her. It turned her into Chrysalis!
Ocellus checks, looking at her forearms. Color is hard to tell in the dark, but they don't look black. And there are no holes. She... she is not Chrysalis again.
The changeling nymph pushes herself to think. Okay, that makes sense: the love-starved ones weren't subservient. They were aggressive. Extremely aggressive. The drones didn't treat her like their queen, but like an intruder in their hive.
Ocellus feels weak -- simultaneously frail and heavy -- almost paralyzed. But she cannot stay here. If she is in another changeling queen's hive, then her most pressing priority was to get out.
Ocellus forces herself to her hooves. Her legs are weak. She is still trembling.
I need to get out!
She puts her saddlebags back on.
Get out!
Anything could be a changeling. She hasn't seen one take the form of another creature, but these drones are particularly keen on disguising themselves as objects and furniture...
Ocellus gives the chiffonier a nervous look. But she's been here long enough that it is either safe or as scared of her as she is of this place. She squeezes her eyes closed, summoning up her courage... or at least channeling her fear to be proactive rather than paralyzing.
Ocellus opens her eyes and runs!
GET OUT!
Ocellus crouches, peeking into the dining room where she had dropped her lantern. She feels both relieved and disheartened to have effectively retraced her flight, undoing any random progress towards an exit achieved in her panic.
Ocellus isn't sure she came back the same way she fled. She has spent the last hour sticking to the shadows, moving quietly. And, finally, heading towards the first source of light that wasn't from a wall sconce. That light just happened to be her abandoned lantern. There it sits among overturned chairs and disorder, its little blue light flickering like it was forgiving her for leaving it behind.
No, this is good. A dining room.
Changelings are infesting this place; this building wasn't built to be a hive. And unlike the "dungeons" in Ogres & Oubliettes, Ocellus knows real buildings aren't mazes. They have a sensical layout, a structure designed to facilitate the building's purpose. At least, unless its purpose is to be a maze -- like a hall of mirrors.
A dining room means a kitchen nearby. A kitchen probably means a door out.
Ocellus lowers herself to the floor and sneaks forward. Half the table settings are gone. What remain are scattered across the table in the wake of the changeling who ran across it. Goblets are overturned. There is silverware on the floor. The shattered pieces of a fallen plate.
Ocellus tries to look everywhere as she crawls towards the lantern, the blue light illuminating her, making her an easy target. She believes the entire patrol chased her, but she knows they might have left a drone behind. Still hidden, on guard.
She opens her mouth and gingerly takes the lantern's handle into it. Her gaze shifts from one shadow to another.
She closes her mouth, biting down on the handle, and opens her elytra, spreading her wings and zipping out of the room before anyling could transform and pounce.
There is no ambush. No movement from the room she exited. No sound.
No changelings.
Safe.
Ocellus stares at the huge, thick magical chains that converge on a glowing lock. She bites back a very un-Ocellus-like curse. The sort she would never say in the presence of company.
The changeling nymph had re-entered the dining room, searching for the kitchen it promised. It wasn't hard to find. The fancy doors lead to a small separating room filled with moonsilver serving carts and lined with spired wall cabinets. Beyond was the kitchen, the doors broken from their hinges. Ocellus' hopes fell at what she saw through them.
Now Ocellus turns in a slow circle, taking in everything around her, making sure she hasn't missed anything.
The kitchen is bathed in sickly green illumination. There are changeling pods everywhere. Covering the floors, the countertops, the cast-iron stove. Green, egg-shaped pods large enough to hold trapped ponies hang from the ceiling and crawl up the doorway back into the separating room. All of them filled with nothing but the queen's royal jelly.
To one side, a pantry is filled with even more pods, and entrapped within are jars containing samples of preserved plants with glowing blue fruits. The vine-like plants invoked a sense of deja vu when Ocellus first spotted them. Now she realizes why. The moonsilver lattices on the doors, inset with blue gemstones, are fashioned in the plants' likeness.
She hasn't found anything that resembles actual food, except for possibly those alien preserves.
Continuing to turn, Ocellus notices a set of three onyx pedestals set between the counters in a prominent position within the kitchen workspace. Next to them, a book lies on the counter, propped open to display a couple pages. She suspects it is a cookbook, but she cannot be sure. The book is written in Old Ponish.
Ocellus finishes her circle and once again faces the massive, narrow door. The door is engraved in complex patterns formed of batwings and eyes. If her hunch and her understanding of architecture is correct, the door should lead outside.
But it is covered in shimmering blue magical seal, complete with chains and a lock. She has seen this magic before. The sight reminds her of the seal conjured by Chancellor Neighsay to lock down the School of Friendship. There is a similarly familiar magical padlock, but instead of a keyhole it has an indentation shaped like a disk surrounded in spikes. Clearly, opening the lock requires a very special key.
Abandoning that exit, and hoping all others aren't similarly barred, Ocellus goes back out through the dining room and starts down the hallway opposite the one she entered.
Ocellus' ears twitch at the hint of a sound. Her breath catches softly. That may have just been the massive structure settling, assuming she wasn't just imagining sounds and scaring herself. But it could have been the sound of a changeling thumping softly to the floor after changing into some inanimate object. Like an innocuous goblet, or candle, or...
Stop. Stop or I am going to be hearing things. If I'm not already.
Ocellus slips into the cover of one of the hallway's dark-stoned, fluted pillars. Beneath the torus, the base is bell-shaped, widening enough for her to hide behind. She takes a moment to notice the celestial patterns carved into the base, heavy on moon iconography. This is far from the first moon imagery she has seen.
Ocellus' memory flashes back to the Treehouse. Luna was trying to open a mirror portal for their field trip. Is this the place the former Princess of the Night was hoping to take them? Did she somehow end up where they were meant to be, but alone? Did this mean Luna knows where she is?
Is there a rescue coming?
Ocellus' heart fills with hope. But the rational part of her mind warns her not to make assumptions. Even if Luna knows where she is, there has been no rescue yet, so it might not come until it is too late. She cannot just hide and wait. Not without food and water. Not within a hostile hive.
As she hides, waiting for the specter of a threat to pass, Ocellus' thoughts turn again to the changelings of this hive. How she has yet to see them take the form of another creature. That isn't unusual. Both Queen Chrysalis's drones and King Thorax's changelings spend almost all of their time in their natural bodies. Especially within the familiarity and safety of the hive.
Changing forms was an ability originally developed for hunting, hiding or feeding. They are far more liberal with its usage now, but Ocellus feels she is probably more so than most. Maybe far too much. As she once worried to then-Counselor Starlight, if she is waking up in different forms, does this mean her "natural" form is losing its naturalness?
She thinks back to this afternoon. How bad is it if she's started unconsciously shifting while awake? How often has she shifted form like that without realizing it? Her friends would have noticed and told her, right? Except Smolder didn't mention it. The way the dragon was feeling, she probably assumed Ocellus did it on purpose. Who would assume a changeling's changing wasn't under her control?
These changelings, however, clearly did favor taking the forms of seemingly random items in their environment. Ocellus finds that odd. Sure, she once added a rock to her change repertoire -- a choice, admittedly, inspired by her admiration of King Thorax. But virtually all of her forms were creatures. And she couldn't think of any changelings from her hive that were different.
Her first thought is that perhaps the environment doesn't offer many creatures to mimic? Is this a desert? Or, considering the cold, somewhere in the frozen north where creatures are very rare? Maybe near Yakyakistan or the Crystal Empire?
The changelings' behavior is also odd, she thinks, for another reason. Why are they doing it at all? There was no need to change within their own hive... unless they were expecting intruders.
Ocellus freezes.
They were expecting intruders!
What happened at the Treehouse... her being here... it wasn't an accident!
The changelings are expecting intruders. In Ocellus' mind, that means the changeling queen is behind what happened to the mirror portal. But was that meant to bring some creature (or creatures!) through by force? Or was it meant to prevent Luna's field trip, and it didn't work? Or, at least, didn't work completely?
The last seems more likely. The changelings are hidden and on guard. If the queen wanted her here, why would Ocellus have woken up alone? Nor should they be on guard against her.
Unless... maybe the hive's queen wanted to bring her through, but something went wrong? Is there a nice cell or pod somewhere in this place conspicuously absent one love-sharing changeling?
Ocellus stops. There are too many questions. Until she learns more, she can think about this forever without finding firm answers.
How long has she been sitting behind this pillar thinking about this? Assuming the sound... if there was a sound... was from a threat, either it has passed or it isn't going to.
Ocellus gets up and slowly edges around the pillar, looking both ways.
Hallway. Sconces. Pillars. Carpet. Along one side she sees tall, arched windows, all of ornate stained glass and offering no view outside. Well, at least she knows that side is an exterior wall. She spots a few pieces of furniture...
Ocellus' heart leaps as she recognizes a hall stand. The changeling finds herself exceptionally thankful for Rarity's series of lessons on the styles of the upper class and royals, including fancy décor. (And here Gallus thought they would never come in useful!) Hall stands have mirrors, storage compartments, and pegs for hanging your hats, cloaks or scarves. And, more importantly to Ocellus, they are almost always placed close to a door outside.
Ocellus feels herself smirking with intellectual satisfaction as she steps around the column and takes flight in the direction of the welcome piece of gothic furniture.
Her smile falters as she nears the hall stand and she feels a familiar fear grip her heart. She slows, tucking in her wings and landing gently on the carpet. By the time she reaches the hall tree, she has forgotten the promise of an exit. The only thing she wants is the mirror. She needs to see.
Ocellus sets down her lantern. The blue flame seems to flicker warningly.
The oval mirror is high-set in the hall stand, surrounded by rich engravings of alicorns. Ocellus has a fleeting impression that they are circling like on the Equestrian flag, but she really is not paying any attention to the elaborate woodwork. She has to climb partially onto the hall stand to reach the mirror. The hallway reflected in the mirror is dark, even darker than the one she stands in. And it grows darker still as she rises up to meet it.
Ocellus lifts her head and stares into the mirror, wanting... needing to see. Expecting to find the face of Chrysalis staring back at her -- tall, black carapace, stringy hair, and green, slitted eyes filled with hatred. The tall, dark figure staring back at her with slitted eyes is not her own. Ocellus screams, jolting away from the mirror and tumbling off the hall stand. Her back hits the carpet as the face in the mirror calls to her.
"Ocellus?" Luna asks.
Absolute horror washes away as she recognizes the sound of Luna's voice. The blinders of fear and anxiety fall away, allowing the figure in the mirror to snap into focus. Ocellus gasps, feeling her heart pounding more frantically than ever in her chest. She manages only a squeak in response. She's having a heart attack, isn't she?
No... no... she's okay. She... she's just...
"L-Luna?"
Seeing a familiar face would absolutely fill her heart with joy if it wasn't trying to escape her breast and catch the next train to Mount Aris. She sucks in one deep breath of frigid air after another.
From behind the glass of the mirror, the night alicorn responds. "Thank goodness you are all right. And that I found..."
The image of Luna fades from the mirror, leaving only a sea of shadow. New alarm shoots through Ocellus, followed by the notion that Luna was never there at all. She's imagining things again. Hallucinations now! Before the thoughts can snowball into an avalanche of self-inflicted terror, Luna reappears.
"Ocellus, listen! My connection to this mirror is..."
And she is gone again. Ironically, Ocellus feels her disappearance conveys the rest of her sentence more succinctly and with more emphasis than words could. Her breathing begins to return to normal as she lays on the carpet, hoping Luna will reappear. She feels a spike of relief and elation as the dark-coated alicorn appears a third time.
"...mirror in the Throne Room is much stronger. Hurry there!" Luna demands, her own eyes wide and a note of panic in her voice that annihilates any comfort Ocellus was feeling. "You will be safe inside. There are wards against enemies..."
And again, the former Princess of the Night is gone. This time, she does not return. Instead, the dark sea fades, the mirror gradually reflecting the hallway in its shadowed, sconce-flame-lit splendor.
The hallway opens into what feels like a massive space. There is meager illumination and a faint noise, constant but rippled with variation. Ocellus approaches cautiously, edging past the fluted columns that mark the hallway's end.
Luna instructed her to find the Throne Room. A throne meant a ruler. Queen Chrysalis had a throne, but this building was built by and for other creatures. Again, she revisits the feeling that the love-starved changelings are infesting a home once belonging to creatures long gone. Did they abandon this place? Did the changelings find it empty and move in? Or are the original inhabitants now withered husks in a discarded changeling pod?
This is not the Throne Room, but Ocellus believes she is heading in the right direction.
The cavernous room can easily hold a small grove of trees. High above, the cold light of the stars pierces the room through a grandiose arched skylight, the size of which gives Ocellus understanding of the breadth of the room. All below is shrouded in shadows, the light showing edges of shapes and glimpses of forms.
She appears to be in a grand foyer. Her lantern casts light on an ornately patterned marble floor split by swaths of carpet. Immediately above her, those patterns are echoed in moonsilver latticing of the glass-floored balcony ringing and bisecting the room two stories above her.
The near wall boasts a massive arched doorway beneath a trio of lancet windows. Elaborate tracery holds panes of blue and purple stained glass depicting clouds and celestial bodies. A tympanum dominated by a huge crescent moon sits above the exterior door that the hall stand promised.
Massive, familiar magical chains converge on a lock over the door. Again, the lock eschews the traditional keyhole for one demanding a disk surrounded by twisted spikes.
On the far end, she can glean the rising wings of a grand staircase, starlight glinting off banisters of polished blue adventurine. And in the center of the room rises the frozen form of a wicked alicorn, rearing up majestically above worshipping ponies. Her ears prick, recognizing the sound now as running water.
Ocellus steps up to the fountain. The water gurgles as it falls down the marble forms of the ponies bowing to the black alicorn rearing above them.
At least, she assumes it is water. It is clear and doesn't smell like anything else. It isn't as if the water could be a changeling. There are limits to changeling transformation, and a pure liquid with nothing to hold its form together is beyond those limitations. At worst, it could be poison, but who would make a poison fountain?
She is quite sure the fountain isn't a changeling either. Sure, a changeling could become a fountain. But they would either have to become themselves expressed as a fountain, or there would have to be another fountain just like this one to learn this specific form from before they could add it to their repertoire. And even then, they wouldn't get the water effect unless there was plumbing for the fountain already here, and they plugged that into their...
Nope! Not thinking about this anymore.
Ocellus' resolution is interrupted as one of the marble ponies and a quarter of the alicorn rising above are encased in a too-familiar green glop, the jelly hardening with alarming speed. Alarm electrifies her spine. Her nerves tingle with panic as part of her screams that the hive's queen has found her! But this jelly wasn't spit at her. Nor was this an uncontrolled explosion like the orb earlier. Part of her brain insists it was more like a targeted geyser.
The changeling nymph spins to see a hovering drone grinning down at her. But drones can't do that! Ocellus thinks before she notices the strange object strapped to his back. It looks like the fire extinguishers at school, only the transparent tank is filled with a subtly luminescent green. The changeling aims the nozzle at her as his tongue slithers out between his fangs.
Ocellus had thought of the concentrated orb in her saddlebags as the queen of this hive weaponizing her jelly, but this? This takes the idea to an extreme Chrysalis would never have dreamed of. Ocellus finds the ingenuity of this queen frightening.
Ocellus leaps into the air as the drone fires another stream of royal jelly through the place she had just been standing. She beats her wings furiously, gaining height as quickly as possible. It will be harder for the drone to aim against gravity.
"Ocellusssss!" the drone hisses as he turns and chases after her.
He knows my name! How can he know my name?!?
She lifts higher, avoiding another volley as the jelly's parabola fails to reach her. She looks down to see he is farther away than before. Royal jelly is not light; that tank is weighing him down. She veers to the side as he aims again, hoping superior flying will beat superior range.
"You're not where you're ssssssupposed to be!" the drone hisses as he misses Ocellus again, the jelly splashing across a strangely familiar tapestry of planets and moons, trapping the thick fabric against the wall behind a glowing splatter of translucent green. "Everyone's in the Conservatory waiting for you."
Waiting for her?!
Ocellus realizes she was jumping to dire conclusions when she thought the changeling who chased her had murder on his mind. But the realization does not bring the nymph any comfort. Somehow, this seems worse.
With a pang of guilt, Ocellus temporarily abandons looking for the Throne Room, returning to her previous plan of GET OUT! The exterior door may be locked, but there were more ways out of a building than using the door. The changeling nymph changes direction, leveling out, and pours on the speed as she flies for one of the stained-glass windows above the door.
The drone slows, swooping about, adjusting to chase Ocellus on her new course. He prepares to fire again.
Just before colliding with a thick pane of lavender glass, Ocellus closes her eyes. A flash of turquoise fire erupts around her as she becomes a rock.
Rock-Ocellus slams into the stained glass and rebounds, her eyes flying open. As she falls, she sees a shimmer of magical chains become briefly visible before disappearing again. Then a swath of green goo sprays across the trio of windows.
Of course, Ocellus thinks as she thuds to the floor. That would have been too easy.
The drone stops, looking around, apparently having lost track of her. He hisses with frustration, tongue lashing out like an angry snake. "Queen Elytra doessssn't like to be kept waiting!"
Queen Elytra. Now she had a name to put to all of this.
"And we've waited ssssssooo long for the world in the sky to be oursssss!"
Ocellus looks up through the skylight and sees the crescent sliver of a world of blues and whites, browns and greens. Something very much unlike the moon she has seen in the sky every night.
Turquoise fire erupts around Ocellus as a spear of fear strikes through her, almost crippling the changeling nymph. Never has she felt so lost. For even the moon to be so different...
Where am I...?!?
"There you are!"
The hissing voice of the drone snaps Ocellus out of her moment of horror. She is in her changeling form again. The drone spotted the energy burst of her transformation. She rolls across the marble as the drone tries to drop down on her. The drone's attacks force her to refocus.
Ocellus flies up again. Her wings are tiring. She hasn't raced this much in a year. She can't keep this up.
But at the same time, she doesn't want to fight back unless she absolutely has to. She doesn't want to hurt these changelings. The hollow feeling in her gut is reminding her that she was once a love-starved changeling too. She knows what it is like to be a drone. She knows what it is like to be starving.
She knows what it is like to serve an evil queen. And to not know there is another way.
Ocellus darts, changing direction again, flying for the balcony. The moment she reaches it, she takes cover behind a pillar on the upper balcony.
"Listen!" she calls out. "I'm a changeling too. But I'm different. I'm different because I share love! And because of that, I'm never starving!"
She pauses, listening to the change in the drone's wing-beats. He is hovering. As best she can hear, the drone is halfway to the opposite balcony, and maybe a little higher. But what is important is that he isn't moving. He has stopped to listen.
"You could share love too!" Ocellus calls to him, her nerves electric with hope and anxiety. "All of you could. The love you have for each other could sustain you!" She peeks out at him from behind the pillar, giving him her best smile.
The drone's muzzle smiles back. But it is a cold, nasty smirk. His response is terse. "Eh, no."
Ocellus sees green energy flare around his horn as the drone conjures a barrier of green energy in front of him. She dives to the balcony floor, flattening herself against it, knowing what is coming.
Like a blazing green comet, the hostile drone shoots across the space between them, smashing through the pillar. Stone debris pummels Ocellus as the love-starved changeling hits the balcony floor with enough force to shatter the glass and snap the latticing. He turns towards her, crouched and hissing, getting his hooves back beneath him.
The balcony floor sags ominously, then gives way beneath them. The two fall.
The enemy changeling beats his wings, catching himself halfway to the floor two stories below the broken balcony. Ocellus does not. Turquoise energy flashes around Ocellus just before she hits the glass-strewn floor below, one rock among the debris.
The drone aims the nozzle of the royal jelly sprayer. He doesn't have to know which chunk of stone she is. He can just hose all of them.
Another burst of turquoise flame. Puckwudgie-Ocellus turns her back on the drone above her and lets loose a barrage of spines. They bounce ineffectively off his chitin. As she knew they would.
The love-starved changeling fires.
The moment the pressurized liquid is released into the hose, it ruptures. Royal jelly explodes out of the multiple holes where puckwudgie spines pierced through, encasing the drone, weapon and all.
He drops to the floor, trapped in a jagged, air-permeable chunk of hardened royal resin.
Ocellus stares at the drone, remembering what it was like to be him. She shudders, fear melting into sadness. She feels sorry for him.
Taking a deep breath, she formally promises herself that she will not bring harm to the changelings of this hive. She believes that these changelings have the capacity to be reformed. She has to. They should not be denied that chance.
When Queen Chrysalis began to drain the love from Thorax, did it feel like this?
Ocellus had been distracted by a thought: Luna said there were wards against enemies; but if the wards keep out changelings, won't they keep me out? She was so deep in her quandary that the changeling nymph didn't realize she had entered the Throne Room until she looked up and saw the ogee arched window filling one entire wall, framing the world outside.
Ocellus sits on her haunches and stares into the valley of despair. She can feel hope draining out of her as if it were being consumed by an alien entity. She was helpless to resist the loss.
Beyond the window, the sky is as dark as ink, pierced by the cold, lonely light of stars. The line between sky and land is stark, like it was cut into being with scissors. Below the sky is... nothing. Just cold and dust. There are no trees, no plants, no grass. No signs of animals or any sort of life. Ridges rise from valleys, all the dullest gray of old ash, so barren they make the badlands feel hospitable. There aren't even any frozen lakes or snow; no windigos. Wherever she is, it is a far, far worse place than the badlands her hive was once thrown to. This is a wasteland. So empty it doesn't even have color.
Ocellus swallows, feeling a hard lump in her throat.
Trembling, she pulls herself away from the sight. Gets back onto her hooves and looks in the opposite direction. Away from the lonely bleak.
Pointed arches march along the walls to either side -- each an alcove or an exit leading to a new wing of the castle -- are separated by fluted pillars and torches burning with azure fire. Tapestries hang from above, richly depicting themes of the night sky or the wicked alicorn featured in the fountain earlier.
Even if Cozy Glow hadn't been good to her word, arranging for Ocellus and her friends to get a make-up test, there was no way she could have flunked Friendship's Effect on the Course of Equestrian History hard enough to not know who that alicorn is meant to be.
Curved steps of arctic blue stone lead up to a dais, and then up farther to the throne. The royal chair is elegantly curved -- a trio of blues rising to a point like frozen candle flame -- and ornately framed with a sculptural backpiece. Teal bat wings spread from behind the throne, rising from sculptures of swirling clouds to meet a monstrous azure form with appendages ending in claws... all beneath an awe-inspiring amethyst magically cut to resemble a crescent moon set within a moon.
Several feet behind the throne, framed by even more rich tapestries, rises a massive mirror, visually doubling the grandiose size of the room and reflecting the outside desolation beyond.
Ocellus turns from the sight, telling herself that she is merely fascinated by a peculiar oil painting on one wall.
She corrects herself. Now that she is looking, she actually is curious about it. Not merely because of the strange and almost arithmetic imagery, but because it is the first painting she has seen in this place.
Ocellus beats her weary wings and starts to fly over for a closer look. But she stops as she notices the mirror darken, the reflection of the room sinking into blackness until the mirror seems to be made of ink. From the depths, the welcome figure of the night alicorn walks towards her.
Ocellus turns and flies to the mirror, landing to stand before Luna. The two gaze at each other as if separated by only a window.
"Good. You made it."
Ocellus blushes slightly, feeling warmed by the praise. But she is not content with it. "Where am I?" the nymph asks urgently. Then, "Where are you?"
"You are in the Palace of Nightmare Moon, Ocellus." Luna informs her in the tone of a mother attempting to break bad news.
Ocellus feels a wave of surprise, but not at the drop of the name. Too much of the decor seems to pay homage to Luna's former, villainous self. And a few of the tapestries had struck a familiar chord, reminding her of the ruined ones in the remains of the Castle of the Two Sisters.
No, her surprise is that Nightmare Moon would have a palace anywhere. Her lessons suggested the black alicorn of endless night had not ruled Equestria long enough to erect monuments, much less a palace. Neither before her banishment nor after her return.
Unless it was one created for her, perhaps by a cult?
Or unless it was once created by her during her banishment...?
Oh no.
A frozen pit forms inside Ocellus. She knows what Luna is going to say next even as she says it.
"You are on the moon."
Ocellus feels her freak-out fading, her breathing returning to normal.
Luna watches her from the mirror. Her expression is gentle and steeped in dismay. It was clear to Ocellus, even as she panicked, that Luna wanted to step through and comfort her. It became equally clear she could not. But she remained. Quiet, caring and patient.
Before, at the hall stand, the night alicorn could barely hold her place in the mirror long enough to finish a sentence. But she has given Ocellus ample time to absorb the news, and the nymph realizes she had not faded once.
Finally, Ocellus returns to the question left unanswered. "Luna, where are you?"
"I fear that I am still at the Treehouse," Luna tells her. "I am trapped within a changeling pod, just a foreleg's reach from the mirror portal."
Luna's words dredge back the memory of the last day of Queen Chrysalis' hive -- the day Starlight Glimmer and Thorax invaded. Ocellus remembers that Luna has been trapped in a changeling pod before.
"Are the others there? My friends?" Ocellus asks, imagining Smolder and Yona trapped in changeling pods. Gallus and Silverstream and Sandbar encased in air-permeable prisons of green.
"I do not know. I cannot see the Treehouse or anything more than a pegasus' wingspan away from my pod through this green resin," Luna informs her with regret. "But I can see the mirror's surface, and it is still open."
Ocellus feels a cautious rebirth of hope. "Can I get home through it?"
"I am afraid not. The mirror has been corrupted and is... malfunctioning somehow." There is a hesitation in Luna's voice that betrays deep confusion. "The mirror is no longer acting as a means of travel, although it clearly is... doing something. I have found myself able to use it in this state to see into Nightmare Moon's palace. But only through the mirrors in the palace, and only one at a time."
That little seedling of hope stops growing. But it does not die. Even though this is not a way home, Ocellus recognizes this as valuable. The mirror is a tool, even in this state, that might lead them to finding a way home. But most precious: she is not alone.
"Worry not," Luna intones, attempting to console the young nymph. "Several cherished students and a former Princess can't go missing for too long without notice". She smiles with confidence. "Help will be coming."
Ocellus wants to smile back, but... "We are supposed to be gone for days."
Luna's smile fades. "That is true," she admits. "Perhaps then we should take matters into our own hooves. The palace contains its own portal to Equestria..."
Ocellus jumps up. Why didn't Luna just say so? "Where?!"
The night alicorn holds out a cautioning hoof. "It does not physically exist at this moment. It must be conjured. And doing so is neither easy nor safe. It is not an undertaking I would recommend unless the situation is extremely dire. All I am suggesting is that you check on the..." Luna stops abruptly, her expression becoming more dour. She takes a moment to find the words she wishes to use. "...pieces of the key needed to conjure it, and make sure they are all in their proper place."
"Um... Luna?" Ocellus appreciates Luna's desire to keep her safe. But she is not safe here. And the idea of trying to keep tabs on wherever these pieces of the key are isn't really a good idea when the place is swarming with drones. Especially when the changeling queen is clearly up to something, and could even be behind what happened to the mirror portal.
In the very least, Queen Elytra has drones actively hunting her.
She is prey.
Ocellus tells Luna of the changelings. Everything she knows. Everything she suspects.
Luna listens, eyes occasionally widening as parts of Ocellus' tale surprise or alarm her. After the nymph finishes, the former Princess is quiet for a several long minutes. When she finally breaks her silence, her tone is grave.
"This is a problem," Luna admits. "Once conjured, the portal will remain open until it is actively closed. Were you to use it to return home, Queen Elytra's hive could invade through it."
Ocellus winces. She knows from the talkative drone that Elytra intends just that. She doesn't want to go home at the price of opening Equestria to an attack. "Is there any way to prevent that?"
Luna grimaces. "The only way to prevent that is to destroy the portal. But the portal is one way, and can only be destroyed from this side. Worse, the portal must be manifested in order to be destroyed, and that means opening the portal."
Ocellus' ears fold back. Her wing-muscles tighten beneath her elytra. She can almost see the prize dangling before her on a poisoned string. Oh look, the way home. Jump or destroy.
Luna's grimace deepens. She hangs her head. "I am very sorry, Ocellus. But I fear the situation is even worse." Ocellus can hear the sorrow in Luna's tone. Each word falls from the night alicorn's tongue like it is weighted. "If this new changeling queen is as ingenious as you surmise, then it is only a matter of time before she figures out how to open the portal herself."
Ocellus nods. She suspects Queen Elytra may have done so already. The nymph takes a deep breath. "So how do I open it first?"
Ocellus is standing at the window again. Looking out on the barren dustscape of the moon. Digesting the truths that have been told to her.
Luna was reluctant. Even when she acquiesced, it was clear that these were secrets that she had kept locked away, hoping never to tell. And Ocellus sensed that Luna was skirting subjects that were even more painful to her. Ocellus didn't want to insist, and she did so as gently as she could, giving the alicorn who was once Nightmare Moon the time and coaxing she needed. And bit by bit, Luna told Ocellus what she needed to do.
It took the Elements of Harmony to banish Nightmare Moon to the moon. According to Luna, it takes a similar power to open the way back. While unexpected, the news does not surprise Ocellus as she recalls that travel with the mirror portal needed to be augmented with the magic of the Treehouse of Harmony to ensure passage between their world and this one.
What does surprise her is to learn that Nightmare Moon was aided in her return. Strange, alien entities -- spirits of the stars -- gave Nightmare Moon four magical items of tremendous power.
"It is best to think of them as evil equivalents of an Elements of Harmony," Luna confessed. "Each resonating with a vice, just as the Elements were conduits to the spirits of virtues."
Luna looked at her sadly. "There are many such vices, just as there are many virtues. But these... these resonated with the four vices that were strongest in Nightmare Moon's... in my heart."
Ocellus stares out at the moon and remembers the way Luna bit down, glaring at the throne, then let out an equine snort of disgust.
The idea of evil counterparts to the Elements of Harmony struck a chilling nerve. Ocellus began to wonder if the Tree of Harmony had enemies. Or at least, evil... relatives? If these came from the stars, were the stars themselves like the Tree had been?
Luna's voice cut her ruminations short. "These... for lack of any other name, let us call them 'anti-Elements'... are scattered about the palace, and they must be gathered together to make the portal appear. Once the portal appears, it can be used... or destroyed."
For the first time, Ocellus feels glad her friends are not here.
The changeling nymph is still looking at the desolate gray desert when Ocellus finally asks, "Which one is closest?"
Luna answers. "Envy."
The nymph groans inwardly. She was not looking forward to this.
The moon outside continues to be the moon. Wanting a distraction, Ocellus asks, "So... what is the rest of the moon like?"
Ocellus can hear the little snort and can almost feel Luna shaking her head behind her.
"It is all as you see out the window. Endless dunes and craters of the same rock," Luna informs her in a bitter tone. "It was different while Nightmare Moon was here, but this is all she left in her wake."
Ocellus turns, finding the answer too curious not to pursue.
"Without the magic in the palace, the air outside is thinner and yet colder," Luna adds. "The magic in the palace also keeps the gravity you experience like that of Equestria. Outside, there is less gravity to hold you to the surface. Particularly given your fast-beating wings, Ocellus, you would likely find it difficult to control your flight."
Ocellus was not expecting that. "But there is air on the moon?"
"Of course," Luna responds. "My sister was trying to imprison me, not suffocate me."
Ocellus flinches. "Oh... I'm sorry... I didn't mean... I just have so many questions!"
Luna blinks. "Really? Nobody has ever asked me about it before. I suspect they were afraid to. Or didn't want to know."
The night alicorn contemplates a moment, then announces, "Go ahead. Ask your questions!"
"You were here for a thousand years. What did you eat?"
Luna smiles grimly, seeming both pleased that someone has finally asked her and displeased at the answer. "The blast of magic that sent me here stripped me... Nightmare Moon... of much of my dark power. Scattered it across the moon, leaving a dark stain."
Ocellus brightens with comprehension. "Ooh! The Mare in the Moon!"
"Yes," Luna says with a nod. "Everywhere that dark stain lay, the moon was made fertile with dark power. The plants which grew in those places were rich with dark essence that provided sustenance. At first, I ate them. Later, I... Nightmare Moon... found a way to refine the plants into raw essence that she... I... could use to forge this palace. And to make servants who would farm for me."
Ocellus tries to picture Nightmare Moon farming. The image refuses to form in her head.
Luna is quiet a moment. Then she lifts a hoof, pointing towards one of the alcoves shadowed behind its pointed archway. "Over there. See those pillars?"
Ocellus traces the vector of Luna's foreleg, turning in place until she finds herself looking at a trio of three short columns, each no taller than herself. She nods, finding them oddly familiar. It takes a moment for the recognition to solidify; the kitchen had an identical set.
Ocellus spreads her wings, flapping them quickly to rise off her hooves. She draws closer to the columns, examining them. Each is made of polished onyx and capped with an ionic capital inscribed with a different but equally unfamiliar rune.
"What are they?" she asks.
Luna answers. "They are an artifact that I... that Nightmare Moon devised to facilitate creating her palace. Allow me to show you how it works. Return to that picture you were looking at when I first appeared in the Grand Mirror."
Ocellus nods, turning away from the onyx columns and swooping across the Throne Room to an oil painting hanging on the opposite wall. The painting had struck her as peculiar, drawing her attention when she first began to explore Nightmare Moon's old Throne Room: a masterful rendering of a piece of jewelry -- the black disk of a moon covering the face of a sun, the fiery spikes of the sun's corona seeming twisted in agony. Behind it, the mottled brown of aged paper bears numbers and equations, sketched figures and measuring lines, as if the piece was resting on a designer's blueprint.
"Take the painting and place it on the center pillar."
Ocellus does as instructed, transforming into her dragon form to get the best grip on what looks to be a priceless artwork. She flies back across the room with it, setting it down on the capital of the middle column with care.
Luna watches, her eyes widening a little when Ocellus transforms. Once the oil painting is in place, the former Princess nods her approval. "That image is the Seal of Nightmare Moon. The emblem of an eclipse. From that painting, the artifact can recreate the Seal."
"What happened to the original one?" Ocellus asks, staring at the painting, curiosity welling within her breast.
Luna's answer is succinct. "I destroyed it."
"But it may be wise to create another," she admits. "Should you find that you need to venture outside the palace, the Seal will open the magical locks that barricade each of the exterior doors."
Ocellus nods. That is the answer to another of her questions. But she finds the answer spawns yet more questions in its place. If the exterior doors are barred with magic, then either the queen of the hive locked them, or Nightmare Moon sealed up her palace before leaving. And the latter seems far more likely; the magic involved is pony magic. She has seen Chancellor Neighsay use the same spell. But something about that doesn't make sense. Nightmare Moon was alone, save for servants that she created.
"Luna?" Ocellus asks, feeling a needling worry creep up her spine. "Who... or what... was Nightmare Moon locking out?"
Luna grows very quiet. The silence stretches long enough for Ocellus to look to the Grand Mirror, expecting Luna to have vanished.
But the night alicorn is still there, standing solemnly. Ocellus feels a tear in her heart; Luna's expression seems trapped between gut-wrenching sadness and scathing bitterness.
Ocellus flies up to the mirror, beginning to worry. "Luna, I'm sorry..."
"Don't be," the blue alicorn answers sternly. "It is not you who has anything to be sorry for."
Luna droops, her head hanging down. Her mane and tail go nearly limp, barely shifting in the lack of breeze.
"Nightmare Moon... I... wasn't attempting to keep anything out. After I left, this palace was intended to be a prison... " Luna takes a deep breath and lets it out. "...for my sister."
Ocellus sees a single tear fall. It doesn't hit anything; it just ripples into non-existence when it reaches Luna's hooves. "I didn't mean to bring up such a bad memory, Luna."
Ocellus lands in front of the mirror, changing back to her usual form. She lifts a hoof, touching the glass.
The changeling nymph takes a moment to compose her thoughts, rejecting the first few phrases that come to her. She does not wish to say she understands. That could come across as condescending. Or worse, arrogant. She must not presume she has any idea what Luna feels. Instead, she needs to make her words about herself. Show why she empathizes. Let Luna draw her own conclusions.
"I was once an 'evil changeling'," she tells Luna.
Everyone knows that, of course, Ocellus thinks. But she doubts anyone has done the math. Unlike her little brother and sister, she isn't so young that she was born after the Royal Wedding. Queen Chrysalis didn't bring grubs to battle. And the magical pulse generated by Shining Armor and Princess Cadance did not gently deposit them back at their hive -- it flung them into the badlands. Where they rebuilt their hive anew.
Retrieving their grubs from Equestria was not a high priority for her former queen. Ocellus knows at least one survived to find its way into Ponyville, but she suspects most did not. And they certainly never rejoined the hive.
Ocellus continues. "I haven't told anyone, but I was old enough to be part of the attack on Canterlot. The love-starved changeling I used to be did some horrible things. She hurt ponies. When I transformed, I abandoned who I was. With Thorax leading us, we were all able to. I know I am not that 'evil changeling' anymore. But it took Smolder... and some nudging from the Tree of Harmony... to accept that I have really and permanently changed."
Luna is looking at her.
"I'm not the creature who did those terrible things," Ocellus says firmly. "And neither are you."
Luna smiles, although Ocellus can see the sadness has not fully left her face. The changeling blinks as she tastes an unfamiliar but pleasant mix of honeydew and tar. Luna's love. Just a small amount, but somehow sharper and clearer than any she has experienced, as if more alive than life itself, flowing through the mirror as easily as her words.
"I know that, Ocellus. And I forgave myself years ago."
The night alicorn's words are sincere, but Ocellus can tell that is not entirely true. But then, even if they have changed, does anyone ever completely forgive themselves?
Ocellus has left her past behind her, embracing fully her new life as all in the transformed, love-filled hive (except perhaps Pharynx) have done. But the even though she knows she is no longer the love-starved changeling nymph she once was, she does not know how she would fare if she ever met any of the ponies she had attacked. Or fed on. There are deeds her former self did under Queen Chrysalis' reign that still pain her. Nightmares she may never fully escape.
"I know," Ocellus says. "We were taught the story in class. But I also know that even things you have forgiven yourself for can still hurt."
Luna is quiet a moment, but she nods with a sad smile.
As Ocellus smiles back, she closes her receptors, feeling a touch ashamed. She had not meant to do that. She had not even realized they were open.
Luna muses, "I had not thought of it before. But I can see now: unlike your friends, you cannot learn from my mistakes... for you have already learned those same lessons from your own."
With a wry chuckle, she adds, "I believe that is what I wished to help teach all of you on our field trip..."
Ocellus cocks her head, her ears perking. "Believe? You don't know?"
Luna pauses. Then frowns, a look of agitation playing across her face. "No, I... You're right. I should know... I..."
The night alicorn's face grows distorted with concentration.
"I... I cannot remember. I... I do not know why I planned the field trip. Or if this is truly where I meant to bring you. I cannot even remember asking Starlight..." Luna's eyes widen with alarm. "I cannot remember a great deal of the last few days! And when I try, I feel an ache in my mind. Like a hole..."
Ocellus gulps as a terrible thought comes to her. "Like your memories were drained away?"
She can feel Luna's love through the mirror. This strange malfunction... it allows much more than the alicorn's words and image. Ocellus could feed on Luna's love if she allowed herself to.
Memories aren't like love, she tells herself. Stop thinking what you are thinking, Ocellus. Feeding doesn't work that way.
But this is a changeling queen! They have powerful magic. She knows only a fraction of the things Queen Chrysalis was able to do. Who knows what Queen Elytra is capable of? Her thoughts turn to the drone in the grand foyer.
He knows my name! How does he know my name??!
Luna's eyes widen. Her words show that she too has followed the same line of thought. "Ocellus! This new queen is a far graver threat than I conceived. There are no words to express the damage she could do if she has my memories... not just of Equestria's defenses, but of the fears and dreams of all the creatures within it! It is most imperative that she not be allowed to invade our world!"
Ocellus looks at the three pillars again, the middle one now wearing an oil painting for a hat. The other two capitals remain as before.
Ocellus blinks, another (and hopefully far less invasive) question forming in her head. "Why hasn't it created Nightmare Moon's Seal?" She restrains herself from adding: Do I need to turn it on?
"The artifact weaves creations from dark essence," Luna answers. "You must supply that."
Oh. That makes sense. Of course, Ocellus figures, Nightmare Moon had a plentiful supply of that. But she does not.
"Place something made of dark essence on the first pillar, and the artifact will pull the essence from it," Luna tells her.
"Like what?" Ocellus asks.
Luna smirks. "Literally anything. Every part of Nightmare Moon's Palace is made from dark essence. ...Do not do this with anything you wish to keep. Being stripped of essence will cause the thing to dissolve."
After a moment's consideration, the night alicorn adds, "Although things without real power required only a wisp of essence to create and will provide very little to destroy. You would have to dismantle several rooms and dissolve their furnishings to create the Seal. Weapons and creatures forged from dark essence will provide much better yield."
Ocellus feels her eyes widen, a shudder of shock running through her at the casual mention of dissolving creatures to make a tool. She quickly reminds herself that this is not something Luna ever did, but rather the cold cruelty of Nightmare Moon.
Luna sees Ocellus' reaction and is quick to clarify. "Ocellus, I am not suggesting that you would -- nor should -- kill creatures to create Nightmare Moon's Seal."
Ocellus feels herself relaxing, a tension that had begun to build slowly trickling away. In the wake, her mind latches once again onto the memory of her fight in the grand foyer and the weapon that drone was wielding. A weapon now encased in queen resin with him.
There is an identical set of onyx columns in the kitchen. If Nightmare Moon built and furnished this whole palace with these artifacts, surely she would have wanted to reduce the hassle of lugging materials and furniture.
Ocellus doesn't even have to ask how many of these artifacts are spread across the palace. The tension that had almost faded away rushes back as she realizes the hive has control of at least one. Queen Elytra is using it to create the weapons she devises. And with that comes an even more dreadful thought:
If this is what Queen Elytra is creating now, what will she conjure up when she has all of Equestria's nightmares to pull from?
"You've been sentenced to death for your actions. How does that make you feel?"
Ocellus sets her lantern down gently on one arm of the hall stand. The blue flame dances serenely.
She pauses once more, ears up, listening for chittering or scurrying or the buzz of changeling wings. Nothing. She is alone. Or she is surrounded, and they are pretending to be...
Ocellus looks around again, but aside from the hall stand, there isn't anything nearby for a changeling to be mimicking. Unless this hallway isn't supposed to have a carpet?
Ocellus prances, suddenly uncomfortable with the way her hooves sink into the plush carpeting.
Stop it! Ocellus squeezes her eyelids shut, chastising herself. That level of paranoia will not be helpful. Still, she spreads her wings and hovers off the carpet.
Emotions flood in that are even less helpful.
If she goes through the portal instead of destroying it, she puts everyone at risk. Not only in Equestria, but the whole world. Queen Elytra is terrifying.
Queen Chrysalis had an army, but even though her drones were loyal to her -- as Ocellus herself had been -- Chrysalis had never trusted her drones the way Queen Elytra trusts hers. Enough to arm them with royal jelly without fear of treason. And remembering how the drone dismissed Ocellus' attempts to show him the better way, the loyalty of Elytra's drones would not be easy to break.
They have weapons. And worst of all, Queen Elytra seems to be siphoning Luna's knowledge...
Horror breaks across Ocellus as she envisions her friends trapped in changeling pods scattered around the mirror portal, Queen Elytra draining their memories as well. Gaining all she needed to invade the Dragonlands, Griffonstone, Yakyakistan, Mount Aris and Seaquestria. And leaving her friends mindless husks.
There was no way that Ocellus was going through that portal to her world. She has to destroy it. And she has to hurry!
Ocellus refocuses on the task at hoof. She remembers: hall stands have mirrors, storage compartments, and pegs for hanging your hats, cloaks or scarves. The changeling nymph opens her eyes again, looking over the hall stand until she spots the drawer.
She grasps the drawer's handle with her mouth and pulls it all the way out, catching it with her forelegs. Ocellus barely pays attention to the objects inside, which include another lantern and a heavy winter cloak with sapphire moon pattern. Luna sent her back here for the whole drawer.
Without something more significant to break down, creating a new copy of Nightmare Moon's Seal had to wait. As Ocellus hung the oil painting back on the wall, it occurred to her that the image and equations were detailed enough (even though the writing was all indecipherable Old Ponish) that she might be able to become the Seal herself. But with Luna trapped behind the mirror, there was nobody else to put Seal-Ocellus in the lock.
But there is something else she needs before she can try to get the anti-Elements.
"They sense anyone who is weak to their nature, anyone whom their Vices resonate with," Luna warned. "Fortunately, I... Nightmare Moon did not trust the stars who aided her. She designed a purse with a protective lining to shield her from their influence as she carried them."
"Return to the hall stand where I first found you," Luna instructed. "There is a storage drawer in the stand. Bring the entire drawer. The contents will have enough dark essence to fabricate the lining. And the underside of the drawer is carved with the blueprint for it."
Ocellus lifts the drawer in her forelegs until the lantern's light reveals the engravings on the underside. What a bizarre place to hide a plan. She might have realized the true nature of the oil painting in the Throne Room, but would never have found this one on her own.
Maybe that was the point? Nightmare Moon did not want to risk forgetting these designs, but didn't want anyone else finding them? Anyone else being her sister Celestia.
Was there a pattern to where they were hidden? A clue?
Thoughts for later. Perhaps she should ask Luna when she gets back to the Throne Room.
Ocellus opens her mouth and picks up her lantern again.
Turning off the flame of her lantern, Ocellus works her way back towards the Throne Room, darting from pillar to pillar. Hiding. Listening for drones. Moving to the next pillar. Keeping low. To the shadows.
Not thinking. Not feeling. Just moving. Hiding. Moving again.
Ocellus makes it almost halfway across the Grand Hall, just past the fountain now half-encased in luminescent lime resin, when the tsunami of reality hits her. The sight of the drone trapped in a hardened explosion of resin breaks the wall holding back images of her friends likewise trapped, encased in green.
Ocellus collapses against a pillar, her lantern falling from her mouth. It hits the floor with a clank, it's little door popping open. She drops the drawer, spilling the heavy cloak and one of the boots beneath.
She's never going to see them again! Smolder! Gallus! Silverstream, Yona, Sandbar...
She has to destroy the portal. And that means she'll be trapped here. Forever! She's never going to see her friends again!
She'll never see the School of Friendship again! Never sleep in her bunk... which she forgot to make. It's going to stay unmade. She'll never see Yona's yak summer wear. Or take Professor Rarity's test. Or finish any of her classes! Her parents will never get to see her graduate!
...Her parents!
She's never going to see her family! Mom. Dad. Her little brother and sister...
Ocellus curls up into a ball, trying to sob as silently as possible.
Ocellus lifts her head from the pearl-white basin and stares into the moonsilver-framed, oval mirror hanging on the onyx-bricked bathroom wall. The Ocellus that stares back at her across the ebony-marbled counter is a puffy-eyed wreck. But at least it's a love-filled changeling. Not one of her other forms. Not Chrysalis. Or worst, absolutely nothing.
How long is that going to last?
Her hive has learned to sustain themselves by sharing love. What happens when there isn't anyone to share love with?
Ocellus knows the answer. It is almost as gutting as knowing she will never see her friends again. She's going to revert.
I'm going to become a love-starved drone again. She thinks of the drone encased in resin. The one she hit in the face with a vase. One of them.
Ocellus feels her eyes burning. Her breath hitching. She's going to start crying again. She sees her reflection trembling.
No! She cannot keep thinking like that. She knows it is true, but she has to hold onto hope. She has friends, and they won't just let that happen to her. They won't stop until they find a way to get her home!
And not just them. Headmare Starlight won't leave her like this. Nor will King Thorax.
The Ocellus in the mirror gives a wavering smile as she imagines Smolder tearing the Dragonlands apart until she finds something that can get her home.
The baneful voice of logic tells her: it's not going to be that easy.
It took the Elements of Harmony to send Nightmare Moon here. It took four anti-Elements to send her back. It took a magical portal designed to open passages between worlds and the Treehouse of Harmony just to get her here. A magical portal that is now corrupted.
There might not be a way to get her home.
Her thoughts flash to the note Smolder spotted in her saddlebags. The one with Rarity's test. Could Discord get her home? At the height of his power, he was able to toy with the cycle of the sun and the moon, right?
Yes, let's put all my hope in the Spirit of Chaos. How could that possibly go wrong?
Ocellus lets out a wet sigh. At least she isn't crying again. She retreated to the bathroom because she doesn't want Luna to see her like this. More tears won't help with that.
Ocellus lowers her face into the sink, splashing water across it. She tries to distract herself with other thoughts.
The pearl-white sink in the ebony-marbled counter reminded her of a full moon against the night sky. Nightmare Moon really went all-in with the motif. The thought elicits a half-whimpered chuckle.
She knows her friends, family and King will not just abandon her. But bringing her back home, and doing so without letting Queen Elytra and her army through, will be... extremely difficult, in the very least. Deep in her heart, Ocellus is bracing for it to be impossible. This is going to be home. She had best grow to like it.
Wait. If it is so hard... the thought opens a door to another.
Why are there changelings on the moon?
Ocellus looks up, water dripping from her face.
Luna is staring back at her.
A moment later, Ocellus consoles herself that it was a very small scream.
"Ah yes. The adoring shrieks of the children," Luna says flatly. "I had almost forgotten the sound." She sighs. "Sorry, Ocellus. I grew worried by how long you were taking. Are you all ri..."
Luna vanishes, the utter blackness that surrounded her fading to the almost-utter blackness of the reflected onyx brickwork.
Ocellus stares at her own reflection. "No. No, I'm not."
The contents of her saddlebags rest in a pile at her hooves. Schoolbooks, notebooks, pencils, quills and ink. A colorful, geometrically pleasing scattering of dice. The dicebag -- a gift from Sandbar -- that now holds an alien orb.
Ocellus places her empty saddlebag on the third onyx pedestal. Instead of recreating Nightmare Moon's purse, they will be lining the inside of her saddlebags to safely hold the anti-Elements.
Ocellus picks up the likewise emptied drawer. The lantern, boots and heavy cloak -- clothing fashioned for traveling outside the palace -- are now piled on the first pedestal of the onyx trio in Nightmare Moon's Throne Room.
Ocellus flips over the drawer, studying the arithmetical images and equations. Wishing she knew Old Ponish. There wasn't anything to mimic in the design. Just raw data. With a small sigh, she places the drawer on the crown of the middle pedestal.
A column of pitch black fire flashes upwards from the first capital. Ocellus' eyes widen as she watches the lantern, boots and cloak dissolve, breaking down into chunks like charcoal amidst greasy blue smoke. Then melting completely into oil as black as space and sprinkled with tiny sparkles of cerulean light. Not melting down but upwards, flowing towards the vaulted ceiling. Reaching the height of a bugbear before the smoke and oil are swallowed in brilliant flashes of light.
Another column of midnight fire erupts around her saddlebags. Ocellus' attention is caught by more flashes, these high above the third capital. Blue smoke and black oil pour down towards her saddlebags, the oil swirling into thin strands that weave into them, merging with them as the smoke billows atop the capital.
The oil stops pouring and the smoke itself is absorbed, leaving her saddlebags just as she remembers them. Except a crawling inside her skull emphases they are not.
Ocellus looks to Luna who merely nods. She opens her mouth to take her saddlebags, but that crawling in her skull makes her stop. She reaches out with a foreleg and scoops it off the pedestal.
The saddlebags thump to the floor, falling open.
"There is no reason to be frightened," Luna assures her calmly.
Ocellus nods, swallowing down her trepidation. Then slides her belongings back into the bag and puts it on.
She turns towards the huge window, gazing out at the barren landscape of the moon. There is no life out there. No friends to make.
Ocellus feels another pang in her heart, this one of guilt. She feels like she has failed her teachers, her school, her King. All their effort and lessons wasted on someone who wasn't going to have the chance to make any friends.
Ocellus banishes the poisonous feeling. She knows better. Her professors, her parents, the Headmare and King Thorax are all proud of what she has already done. Thorax would chastise her (understandingly) for feeling any other way. Her gaze becomes a defiant stare.
The view is indifferent to her defiance. Nothing but a lunar wasteland.
"Luna? If I'm trapped here for the rest of my life, what will I eat?"
Luna closes her eyes. "While the dark stain of Nightmare Moon is gone, and with it the fields of black moonflowers, the farthest wing of the palace contains a greenhouse -- the Conservatory -- where I... where Nightmare Moon cultivated the most potent plants to harvest for dark essence. The essence containment pools lie just beyond it."
Luna looks away. "After opening the portal to Equestria, I ordered... Nightmare Moon gave one last order to Her creations: to take the gifts from the stars and place them back on their storage pedestals, then gather about the essence pool. There, they dissolved back into raw dark essence once more.
"All save for the ones working in the Conservatory. Those I commanded to continue their work. It was... a failsafe."
Luna looks back to Ocellus. "I have no mirror directly into the Conservatory. But Nightmare Moon's creations maintained it faithfully for centuries. There is no cause to doubt they continue to do so. You can find all the sustenance you will ever need within."
Ocellus listens quietly. When the night alicorn finishes, the changeling nymph timidly asks, "But... what about love?"
Ocellus looks down, her features etched with worry and sadness. Normal food might sustain her; but barring a miraculous change within the local hive, there is no one here to love her, and no one to share her love with. Without love, she will slowly degrade until she is a love-starved changeling again.
"I-I don't want to become one of them again."
"Fear not," Luna tells her. "That, at least, I can prevent. The moon is part of my domain. I will visit you every night in your dreams and provide you with the love you need."
Ocellus smiles weakly with relief. Even if the dream is not real, so long as Luna is real and the love is real, she can take that love and feed on it. "Thank you."
Luna shakes her head. "No. If you do this, it is all of Equestria who should be thanking you."
Ocellus has always been proud of her skills at taking notes. Sitting before the mirror with pencil in mouth and notebook open to a fresh page, the changeling nymph listens intently to Luna's every word and transforms them into a sketch of the Palace of Nightmare Moon.
The structure is vaguely spider-like, with the Grand Hall and Throne Room forming a main body from which multiple wings extend. The anti-Elements are housed at the far ends of four of those wings. Envy is closest by merit of being in a much shorter wing. One which contains general living areas such as lounges and bedrooms. The hallway where Ocellus had originally found herself, she is told, does not have an anti-Element within it. But the cross-hallway with the dining room and kitchen connects the two. She might have run into Envy if she had taken a different turn when fleeing the patrol.
Ocellus raises a hoof. She has a question.
Luna continues describing the hall for a moment longer before stopping, tilting her head. "Why are you lifting your hoof like that? Is something wrong?"
Ocellus blinks. She drops her pencil, lowering her hoof. It occurs to the nymph that Luna was gone from Equestria a very long time. She has had many years to acclimate, but is it possible there are things she still doesn't know?
"I just had a question," Ocellus says, not wishing to embarrass her teacher.
The night alicorn's brow furrows. "I have told you that you may ask your questions, have I not?"
Ocellus quickly nods, realizing what Queen Elytra is doing to her must be terrifying. She does not wish for Luna to start questioning her memory where there is no cause to.
"You said bedrooms. Plural." Ocellus thinks back to the dining room. "There were a lot of chairs at the dining room table."
Luna's eyes shift left and right. She sits down, touching her forehooves together timidly. "I... Nightmare Moon may have... created companions from the dark essence to keep her company."
A thousand years of loneliness. The thought slashes her cruelly. Ocellus looks down, wondering how long it will be before she starts making pseudo-friends of her own. She shudders at the idea of having a tea party with pseudo-Smolder.
"Oh." Ocellus closes her notebook. Then walks up to Luna, once again putting a hoof to the mirror. "I'm sorry. No creature should ever have to be without friends."
"I deserved no less," Luna claims. "And I have friends now. I am happy to count you as one of them." She smiles to Ocellus and puts her hoof against the surface of the mirror opposite the girl's own. "And you will never be without one."
Minutes later, with lantern in mouth and saddlebags over her flanks, Ocellus steps out of the Throne Room.
Ocellus stares at the wall of black magic that bisects the hallway ahead of her. It is like a void that has eaten the stars. Like the heart of a black hole. She approaches it with caution. The energy radiating from it reminds her of Princess Twilight's magical shield. But colder. Not a physical cold. An existential one. Like a murder without remorse.
Ocellus decides not to touch it.
Ocellus looks around until she spots a pedestal with a bust of Nightmare Moon. She moves towards it, tasting the room. Nothing. Expected. If either the pedestal or bust was a disguised changeling, she wouldn't sense it unless they were feeling love at the moment. Unlikely.
After a little consideration, Ocellus concentrates, reshaping herself into a hippogriff. This is her first time as one, she realizes. Ocellus wonders briefly what Silverstream would think of the form. Granted, Silverstream didn't comment when she took the form of a seapony, so seeing her become a hippogriff probably wouldn't elicit a reaction either.
She flies above the pedestal, lifting the bust with her hippogriff paws, grunting softly in surprise at its weight. She wasn't any stronger, but it was much easier to hold something like this than with hooves.
The changeling's thoughts wander. Why had she never tried being a hippogriff before? For that matter, she'd never been a griffin or a yak. Just a dragon. (Ocellus didn't consider Sandbar in the equation; ponies don't count. In Chrysalis' hive, every changeling learned how to become a pony. Pony was one of the first forms in her repertoire.)
On opening day at school, she had changed into a dragon for her very first time. She hadn't even really known Smolder then. But something about the dragon made her feel more at ease being one.
She had become a dragon several times since. The form seemed natural. Enough that just this morning, she took it without knowing she had...
Ocellus shakes off the line of thought. She didn't need to start worrying about her sense of self now. Not here.
She turns to face the inky dark again, intent on determining if it is a barrier or a gulf. A chill passes through her. For just a moment, she swore she saw something swimming in the black.
She spins in the air and hurls the bust at the blackness. The head strikes it and rebounds as scintillating blue and white flashes ripple out across the magical barrier from the point of impact. The bust drops to the floor with a loud crack, snapping off the horn of Nightmare Moon.
Ocellus flies back to the last hanging mirror.
"A black wall?"
The night alicorn contemplates the news from within an oval wall mirror hung in an ornate adventurine frame, in an alcove opposite a supply closet. Luna had been surprised and confused to find an unfamiliar hippogriff knocking on the mirror and calling for her.
Ocellus' wings beat rapidly as she hovers, having quickly returned to her natural form. The changeling nymph nods to Luna. "Yes. A magical shield, I think."
Luna is silently pensive in the reflection for a few moments longer before her eyes open wide.
"Oh! I am sorry, Ocellus. I had forgotten about those." Ocellus can see a flicker of worry cascade over her. "I-I am surprised they are active. The changelings here must have tried to breach Nightmare Moon's Throne Room and triggered the palace's defenses."
Palace defenses? Ocellus cringes back. That sounded bad.
"On reflection, I should not be surprised."
Ocellus wonders if Luna is aware of her own pun. "Defenses against what?"
Luna sighs. "As I told you, Nightmare Moon... I... created essence minions." The night alicorn looks to the side, then back again. "I soon discovered that it was possible for my creations to gain a mind of their own. So I created these barriers to seal off the anti-Elements if one of my creations became independent."
Luna's words remind Ocellus of a lesson in then-Headmare Twilight's class about when one such creation had gone rogue: the Tantabus. Luna had created the Tantabus in the dream realm -- a monster of nightmares that would torment her in her sleep. Luna was punishing herself for her deeds as Nightmare Moon. But even though it was made in the realm of dreams, the Tantabus was a real thing, meaning it could cross over and exist in the real world. It would have done so -- bringing all its power with it and plunging the world into a never-ending, living nightmare -- had Luna not forgiven herself and taken its power from it.
Ocellus doesn't even want to think of what one of Nightmare Moon's creations might be capable of if it got ahold of something as powerful as an Element of Harmony.
Luna continues, "There is a way to turn the void barriers off. You must look for a small, white button shaped like the moon. It will be hidden." She pauses. Her face contorts with the effort to recollect. "I would tell you where, but I cannot remember..."
Luna stops and gives Ocellus an apologetic look. "Even if my memories were not being molested, it has been centuries. I have forgotten many details about the palace. But from what I do recall, I fear even once you find it, you may not be able to push it. The buttons are in difficult places to reach. They were meant to be pressed by magic... Why are you smiling?"
Ocellus feels the grin digging into her cheeks, and it feels wonderful. "Because it's a puzzle! I love puzzles."
Ocellus returns to the hallway, searching for the button. She first checks the walls around the barrier, but she is unsurprised to find no moon button there. Luna said this would be challenging.
She looks up at the gloom of the vaulted ceiling and is thankful again for her lantern. She flies up, the blue flame dancing happily as it illuminates the ribs and crevasses. But she finds no button.
Next, she inspects the wall sconces, mentally noting how less than half the sconces in this wing burst into flame at her approach. Checking behind the nearest ones, she finds those vines with purple leaves and mildly bioluminescent lavender lesions that she noticed before. But no moon-shaped buttons.
Next, she moves to the pedestal from which she had taken the bust of Nightmare Moon.
Ocellus spots a hole in the top of the pedestal that the bust had been covering. She looks into the hole, expecting to find the button. All she sees is darkness; the hole is at least a couple feet deep. She tries holding her lantern over it, but the hole is so narrow that Ocellus finds it impossible to position the light to see straight down.
Ocellus lands, setting the lantern onto the floor, its blue flame flickering. She steps back, taking a breath, and concentrates. Unlike being a hippogriff, she has taken this form before, if only once.
The turquoise flame that surrounds her is much brighter and warmer than the light of the lantern. In its wake, the nymph is gone, replaced by a cute little pink bat.
Thank goodness for Professor Fluttershy. There was a reason she nearly always voted for her to be the Teacher of the Month. Fluttershy always had interesting creatures in her class for her students to befriend. After her puckwudgie disaster, Ocellus had spent a month trying to get befriending-through-imitation right. With, granted, mixed results.
Ocellus flaps her wings, rising up to hover over the pedestal. She lets out a sonic cry at the hole, and it returns with a moon-shaped irregularity.
With a turquoise flash, Ocellus is a nymph again. She stares at the hole. The button is definitely down there, but she can't reach it. The hole is barely wide enough for a single talon. And she didn't have a form small enough to fit yet heavy enough to push a button.
The nymph lands, rubbing her chin in thought. All in all, Ocellus considered the puzzle a fair design... well, assuming Nightmare Moon's minions didn't manage to invent the long stick.
Ocellus claps her hooves. She is sure she saw a bunch of brooms in the closet back near the mirror!
Moments later, she is back at the mirror yet again. She stops, looking into the reflective oval, hoping to see Luna. But the night alicorn is gone. The mirror reflects only her and the door to the supply closet.
Ocellus turns and opens the door. The closet has no light. The back wall bears a gross black stain. Four brooms lean against a wall of shelves, each with a handle long enough to push the button. She reaches out to take one.
The closet erupts with flashes of green as three of the brooms become a trio of young drones. Ocellus gasps, backing away. But she is not quick enough. They are on her, driving her to the floor. Her elytra slam onto her wings painfully and she cries out.
"Gottt you!" chitters the one standing on her breast. She is a young drone. They all are. Younger than Ocellus by several years, yet much older than a grub.
She's how old I was when we invaded Canterlot.
"Yesssss!" hisses the one pinning her left foreleg.
"Let's drain her!" the drone holding her hindlegs suggests hungrily. "She has love!"
A shot of fear sends Ocellus' heart racing.
"No," the first one proposes venomously. "Let's stick her! See what happens!"
What?
"YESSSSS!" The one on her arm grins with malicious glee. "Stick her!"
The changeling standing on her breast pulls out a long, silvery needle that ends in a bulb filled with roiling blue smoke. She holds it over Ocellus' face while the other two shift position to keep her pinned.
A turquoise flash is followed by three hard thuds as the adolescent changelings learn they are not strong enough to pin a bugbear, and the ceiling of the closet is very hard.
Bugbear-Ocellus pulls herself out from under the pile of drones, changing back. "I'm not going to be stuck by anyone," she spits. "Especially not kids who hang out in a broom closet."
Ocellus checks each of the younger changelings, searching for breath. She wants them out cold, but she doesn't think she could live with herself if she killed any of them. Fortunately, each one is merely knocked unconscious.
In doing so, she spots the strange needle. She's never seen anything like it. The smoke inside seems almost alive. Ocellus scoops it up into her saddlebag, intending to ask Luna about it later.
Then she takes the remaining broom -- the real one -- and gallops back towards the void barrier.
Ocellus walks along the shadowed hallway, lantern in her mouth. Beyond the void barrier, the vaulted ceiling has changed to the lower, tiled design common to many of the rooms. The hallway is more liberally furnished and decorated. Doors set into pointed arches conceal rooms that Ocellus will surely one day explore.
She could fly, but after that pinch to her wings, she wants to give them a rest. She moves cautiously, nervous about what lies ahead as much as all that surrounds her. The brooms were a harsh reminder that she cannot trust anything here. Her heart beats hard in her chest.
She knows better. She herself can become a rock. She is lucky none of the changelings here have added floor tiles to their repertoire. At least that she has encountered. Yet.
Ocellus stops, her legs feeling frozen. She lowers her head, bringing the lantern's light closer to the floor. Checking... not that there would be anything to see until it was too late. She straightens up, chiding herself once again. She needs to be cautious, not paranoid.
No wonder other races were terrified of changelings. Logically, she always knew. But feeling it for herself... she feels a whole new respect and admiration for Headmare Starlight and Spike and her former Headmare Twilight. Giving changelings a chance had to be a lot harder than the hive ever really understood.
Ocellus takes a step forward and freezes again as she hears a shuffling from... somewhere. She spins, turning the lantern in every direction. Her heart is pounding.
Nothing. Silence.
She imagined it. She was going to go crazy.
Or not! she thinks as she hears another sound. Close. And... above? Ocellus spreads her elytra and flaps her wings, lifting herself away from the cold marble and towards the ceiling.
She hadn't questioned the difference in the ceiling. Now, her imagination was conjuring up secret cavities above her, filled with love-starved changelings swarming overhead.
The ceiling tiles above her crash down. Ocellus screams, dropping the lantern, as a dark figure falls towards her.
The lantern hits the floor, its little door swinging open, light cast upwards at...
"Gallus?!"
Gallus' fall stops abruptly as the mess of vines pull tight, leaving the blue griffin entangled and suspended in midair. He is hyperventilating, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes wide and pupils dilated.
Ocellus has never been happier to see a friend!
Ocellus feels tears well up in her eyes. She rushes towards the entangled griffin. Gallus is here! She's not alone! Gallus is here too!
...wait, why is Gallus here? Ocellus pulls up short as the paranoia from a moment ago returns. She stops, backing just out of the griffin's reach, and studies him. Same eyes, same feathers. She tastes. There is no love coming off of the blue griffin. But, she reminds herself, that doesn't mean he's not Gallus. Nobody feels love all the time. And right now, it looks like all he is feeling is panic.
She glances up at the hole in the ceiling. There is some kind of duct up there -- it reminds her of the air vents around school, only this one is clogged with vines. It looks like part of it was rotten; there are stains of old water damage. It must have failed under his weight. Which could be true of a changeling too. But she knew Gallus. Crawling through that would be a personal nightmare for him. The panic says Gallus, and it pains her to see him like this. She wants to hug him and tell him everything is okay.
But everything is not okay. And she needs to be cautious. Ocellus sees his breathing is slowing, and his pupils are returning slowly to normal. In a calm, even voice, she addresses him. Not wanting to startle him further. But needing to be sure.
"Tell me something only Gallus would know."
The griffon's breath catches. He struggles to turn his head towards her. "Ocellus?"
Ocellus moves into his field of view, but keeps her distance. "It's me. Please, something only Gallus would know."
Gallus breathes rapidly, hanging awkwardly in the knotted mass of vines. The fear coming off of him is almost palpable, but she can see him trying to calm himself. "Uh... okay. I once yelled at the Tree of Harmony."
Ocellus blinks, then feels a huge smile spread across her muzzle wide enough to make her face ache. That is definitely Gallus! It was a moment she would never forget! Gallus' cross, sarcastic voice leaps to the forefront of her memories:
I'm a bit rusty on pony history, but since when does the Tree of Harmony trap creatures in a cave with their biggest fears!?
Ocellus glomps Gallus, sending him swinging in the vines as she hugs him tightly!
Gallus oofs and squawks. "H-hey, good to see you too, Ocellus. You don't know how good!"
Ocellus holds the griffon tight as the swinging settles. She feels his feathers, breathes in the stink of him. She doesn't want to let go, afraid he will just be a hallucination.
Gallus begins to chuckle. "Okay, okay. Enough with the hugging. And can you please get me down from here?"
Ocellus slowly lets go and backs up.
"And for the record," Gallus cannot help but add, "I call bullshit on the Tree's answer. We didn't choose to see our greatest fears. We may have brought them with us, but it is the Tree of Harmony who decided to separate us and make us face them."
You chose what you saw in my roots, not me.
"So if all of this is the Treehouse pulling the same crap? There. Are. Going to be. Words!"
Ocellus blinks again and laughs. Oh, and it feels so good to laugh! "It's not the Treehouse," Ocellus tells him when she stops giggling. "I'm pretty sure this is real. We're on the moon."
Gallus' eyes go wide. "You do realize you just said real and on the moon in the same sentence, right?"
"Heh... yeah."
Gallus probes, "And you know how completely bonkers you sound, right?"
Ocellus cannot help it. "Also, there are hostile, love-starved changelings everywhere. And the only way home is a portal opened by evil counterparts to the Elements of Harmony."
Gallus stares at her, dumbfounded, for several long moments before concluding, "Now you're just making things up."
Ocellus shakes her head as she begins to help Gallus untangle himself. She pauses to inspect the vines her friend is bound up in.
There are five separate vines the griffon has managed to get snared in, and many more in the duct above that are drooping slack through the hole. The vine with a tight and painful-looking hold on his left wing has familiar purple lesions. The others are black, or maybe a really dark brown or green. The blue light from the lantern below them isn't good for telling colors.
Ocellus tries to loosen the purple one so it isn't holding the poor boy's wing at such a painful angle. But tugging at it tightens another, getting a grunt from her friend. She looks to him apologetically, but he is focused on the vine trying to choke him, and not having any better luck.
Ocellus tries to fly at the problem from a different angle and help him with that vine instead, being extra gentle with it. She feels her saddlebag shift and hears a soft tak-takt-tak as a couple of her now-loose dice spill from her saddlebags onto the floor below.
Gallus wheezes slightly as he tugs at the vine. "I don't think rolling for proficiency is going to help."
"I... wha-? That's not... oh." Ocellus giggles as she gets the joke.
Meanwhile, Gallus has worked enough slack into the vine around his neck to pull it back, then rip it with his talons. His face and neck are splattered with luminescent white ichor that spurts from the severed ends of the vine.
"What the..." he grimaces. "What is this?"
"I don't know," Ocellus says, staring, "But I'm wondering if I'm old enough to watch you do this."
Ocellus gives Gallus a sinnocent smile.
Gallus stares back with the deadest of deadpans. "Seriously?"
Gallus turns away, choosing to ignore her as he grabs the vine binding his right hindleg and twists it to point away before slashing it. Clear liquid pours from the dangling end as his leg regains freedom and his bulk shifts in a way that pulls on his left wing. The blue griffin bites back a squawk as he allows the redistributing of weight to settle.
"Is that water?" Gallus asks, looking at the clear liquid pouring onto the floor.
Ocellus follows his gaze. "It could be," she offers, "There's a running water fountain back near the Throne Room."
Gallus raises an eyebrow. Then looks at the vine, seeming to contemplate using it to wash the white gunk off his face.
"More likely that than poison or acid," Ocellus adds.
Gallus flinches back from the severed vine. "I'll just wait for the fountain." He looks back at the vines, focusing on the purple-leafed one causing him the most discomfort. "Now what is this about a Throne Room?"
Gallus reaches up and slashes the vine binding his left wing. Purple-black smoke gushes out in a heavy spray. The smoke blows down over the floor and across the open lantern, and ignites, filling the room with a geyser of cyan flame!
Ocellus dives for cover behind a gothic sideboard carved in reliefs of black alicorns. Gallus flaps his freed wings, trying to fly away. But the two remaining vines are wrapped tightly around his left hindleg, keeping him from escaping the potential reach of the flame.
The purple vine whips about, spraying fire like a demented dragon in the throes of laughter. Fire crackles across the sideboard, baking Ocellus in the heat, then swings away to incinerate an old painting on the opposite wall.
"Gallus! Get back into the hole! Quickly!"
Ocellus is aware of just how cruel a call that is. To ask her claustrophobic friend to crawl back into the horrible hole he just escaped from. She risks a peek, ready to apologize and urge, but Gallus only balked a moment. He is already climbing in, curling his tail close to keep it from getting burned by the thrashing flame.
Ocellus pulls out the orb from her dice bag, her face bathed in its sickly green glow, then rolls it towards the lantern on the floor and ducks back into safety.
SPLURTCH!
In an instant, the fire is out. The severed purple vine dangles harmlessly, covered in hardening resin. As is most everything else.
"Gallus, you can come..."
Gallus thrusts himself backwards out of the duct, gasping for air.
"...out now," Ocellus finishes. "Sorry. It was the only way I could think to stop the fire. And you really don't want this stuff in your feathers.
"I'll take your word on that," he replies, looking at the dripping lime ooze as it hardens. "Thanks for saving my bacon." Gallus brushes his yellow crest-feathers. "From becoming actual bacon." He looks at her. "And have you found any of the others yet?"
"The others are here too?!" Ocellus breathes joyfully.
Gallus' face falls. "I don't know. I just kinda assumed, since you are here..." He trails off.
Ocellus clamps down on her rapture. Still, Gallus could be right. If two of them are here, the chances seem much higher that more -- maybe even all of them -- are here.
The blue griffon flexes his wings. He winces a little as he stretches his left one. "Remember when the Tree of Harmony teleported us all to different places in that weird test of friendship? I figured this was like that," Gallus admits. "I mean, we were even at the Treehouse when it happened."
He pauses, rubbing his neck where the vine choked him. "Right. Moon. So not that."
The griffon walks up to her. He winces again, just a little, as he steps with his left hindpaw. Ocellus suspects he twisted it while trying to keep away from the flames.
"You seem to know a lot more about where we are and what's going on than I do," Gallus concedes, holding out his right talon. "So what's next?"
"Seriously?" Gallus grumps. "We have to go all the way back? I've spent the last few hours getting away from that weird gemstone... Dammit, I knew I should have grabbed that thing! I figured if this was another puzzle, it might be, like, a key or something."
"Why didn't you?" Ocellus asks curiously. She definitely is not upset. Yes, that would have saved them a trip, but the special lining in her saddlebags tells her that Gallus grabbing Envy could have been bad.
Gallus is oddly quiet.
"Gallus?"
With a heavy sigh, the griffon says, "Because I didn't like the way it made me feel. Just being around it felt like... like all those Blue Moon Festivals spent looking in the window at people who... weren't alone and completely miserable."
Gallus looks at her, and Ocellus can see the dark place just being in the anti-Element's vicinity had taken him.
"I looked at it and it was like the first day of winter break all over again, and I was pouring goo powder into the fire of friendship. I just... if it felt like that to just look at it, I didn't want to know how it would feel to touch it."
Gallus sighs, slumping a little. Ocellus hates seeing him that way. She wonders if another hug would be appropriate.
"So what is it anyway?" Gallus finally asks.
Ocellus frowns. Gallus is strong. All of her friends are. But this is like a kick in the stomach. The first in a long series of kicks. "It's like an Element of Harmony, only for a vice. We need it to power a portal..."
"The vice of what?" Gallus spits. "Loneliness and destitution and feeling like you got the shortest stick in a whole world of short sticks?"
Actually, Ocellus thinks, he's taking it pretty well. "Envy."
Gallus raises a talon, pausing in thought. "Oh. I guess that makes sense. Kinda." Another pause. "Envy sucks."
The stained-glass double-doors swing open, and the pair of friends peek through, Ocellus looking left and Gallus looking right. They look back at each other and Ocellus nods. They slip out of the drawing room and into the new hallway.
Gallus walks alongside Ocellus, watching the changeling as she eyes furniture with caution and stops to listen at every door and intersection. When she looks back at him, she can almost see the gears turning in his mind. She wishes she knew what he was thinking. There are some things she hopes he isn't.
"Ocellus?" Gallus whispers as she stops, setting down her lantern to prod an oil painting of batponies, then lift it up to check behind it for hidden plans. Not that she expects to find any that way. "The Elements of Harmony weren't intelligent, right?"
Ocellus' ears twitch. "No, just the Tree," she answers quietly as she rehangs the painting. "And the Treehouse," she adds, just to be thorough.
Gallus nods. "That's what I thought."
Ocellus moves forward again, then stops as a thought shoots through her. Could she have it all wrong? If the anti-Elements are intelligent, could they be behind all of this? The notion is alarming, sinister... and almost immediately begins to fall apart.
Gallus watches her and comments dryly, "Yeah, been down that road. It starts scary and ends stupid. But now I'm thinking something that's not so stupid."
Ocellus cocks her head, curious. "What is that?" she asks, remembering to drop her voice to a whisper halfway through the question.
Gallus' expression sours. "I'm thinking I woke up in that room with Envy because I'm an orphan."
Ocellus' jaw drops. She immediately yearns to tell him how ridiculous that is. But she stops herself because the moment he says it, the idea seems familiar. Like she's been thinking the same thing in the back of her head. Instead, she asks, "What makes you say that?"
The briefest of smiles on the griffon's beak tells Ocellus that it was the right call to take his thoughts seriously rather than dismissing them. "You said the anti-Elements call to creatures who have a connection or weakness to their vice, right?"
Ocellus nods. She had used the word "resonate", but that really wasn't a Gallus word. He was close enough.
"As an orphan, I have a personal relationship with envy," Gallus states bluntly. "So I'm thinking when we got sucked into this palace, Envy pulled me to it."
Ocellus blinks. That is a really fascinating idea. But with a huge flaw. "You weren't drawn to Envy though." She looks into her dear friend's eyes. "You may be an orphan, but with everything you've learned and all the ways you have changed, your resonance with Envy is entirely negative. You were repulsed by it!"
Gallus nods. "Which is where the 'not intelligent' comes in," he tells her. "I don't think it pulled me to it out of a master plan. More..." He twirls a talon. "Instinctual."
Ocellus turns back, holding her lantern high as they approach a suspiciously innocuous credenza. With a trio of innocent-looking goblets sitting on a moonsilver platter. Ocellus thinks better of poking, and instead gives the credenza a wide berth.
"You're making me paranoid," Gallus whispers dourly.
Ocellus considers her friend's logic. She recalls again the words of the changeling now trapped in resin in the Grand Hall: "You're not where you're ssssssupposed to be! Everyone's in the Conservatory waiting for you."
"I think you're right," Ocellus says abruptly, turning to face Gallus (and get in a parting glare at the credenza and goblets). "I was supposed to end up in the Conservatory. That's one room away from where one of the other anti-Elements is."
Gallus raises his eyebrows.
"Changeling queens wield powerful and esoteric magic," Ocellus reasons. "I think Queen Elytra cast a spell to corrupt the mirror portal so that it brought creatures here and deposited them near the anti-Elements that they resonate with."
Gallus considers that a moment. "Okay, that makes sense with Envy. But what about you? What anti-Element is in the... what was it called where you were supposed to show up?"
"The Conservatory. It's a giant greenhouse," she explains, not bothering to clarify that the anti-Element is supposed to be in a room off of the greenhouse. "And Wrath."
"Wrath?" Gallus repeats, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Yeah, because when I think rage, I think Ocellus," he scoffs.
Ocellus wonders if the spell didn't pull through the creatures it was supposed to. Or maybe the queen didn't have any idea who was on the other side and just hoped for the best.
"Which might be why it didn't work," Ocellus suggests. "I don't resonate enough with Wrath, so I ended up in a random hallway."
Gallus absorbs that and nods. "If this is the evil queen's plan, she's scoring zero for two." He stops. "Which makes me think maybe getting Envy is a bad idea."
Ocellus purses her lips, her ears folding back. She'd thought the same thing. Unfortunately, the only way to destroy the portal is to open it, doing exactly what Queen Elytra apparently wants.
And now she can't just smash it the moment the portal manifests. She has to keep it open long enough for Gallus to go through.
They approach the door into the room where Envy resides.
Gallus has described the room beyond as long and narrow, barren of other furniture. Almost a hall except there are no rooms connected to it. At the end is a pedestal with a green, circular stone that, in Gallus' words, "floats and radiates awful".
Ocellus chose not to tell him she was proud of his correct usage of "radiates".
The blue griffon stops at the sight of the door. "For the record, I would rather be spending today getting my talons done with Cozy Glow."
Putting down her lantern, Ocellus snickers at her friend's snark. "Oh? What color?" His stare is the perfect answer.
Ocellus stares at the extravagantly carved slab of blue slate. Engravings depict the battle between Nightmare Moon and Celestia, their figures repeating over and over across nightscapes of clouds and moons shining with crepuscular rays. The doorknob is an amethyst set over the first normal keyhole she has seen.
"It's locked," Gallus tells her. "Trust me. I wouldn't have crawled out through that suffocatingly narrow vinenest if I could have just opened the door."
Ocellus nods. Then blinks. "Wait, what kind of lock?"
"How should I know? I'm not a locksmith."
"I mean, is it magical?" Ocellus asks as she peers at the keyhole. "Like Chancellor Neighsay's locks?" It clearly isn't one requiring Nightmare Moon's Seal.
"No, I think it's just a lock," Gallus says. "There wasn't a keyhole on the inside. But since there is one on this side, I might be able to pick it with my talons." At Ocellus' look, he shrugs. "Yona picked a lock with one of her horns, so how hard could it be?"
Ocellus looks around. Then up. "Or we could crawl back in from above," Ocellus offers, spotting a grated vent.
Gallus gives her a return stare. "Yeeeeah, not for all the bits in the Canterlot treasury. Be my guest. I'm sticking with Plan: Lockpick." The blue griffon sits himself down in front of the door and begins experimentally sticking his talons into the keyhole.
Ocellus flies up to inspect the vent. It looks like it goes into the same duct Gallus crawled through. The light from her lantern barely catches on the vines beyond it. Crawling through would be claustrophobic even for someone without Gallus' phobia. But she doesn't have to be her full size.
Her bat form wouldn't work. She needs to be able to carry her saddlebags. Same with the bunny form. Puckwudgie would work, but it might be good to fly too. Easier than transforming while falling out of the vent inside the room. Bite-acuda?
Ocellus clops her forehooves together. She's got it! Cockatrice.
"Gallus, keep facing the door," she instructs. The changeling nymph has never become a cockatrice before, and there are always some risks when taking on the form of a magical creature for the first time.
Turning into Professor Rarity or Princess Twilight doesn't give her magical telekinesis, much less their full range of spells. But transformed changelings do get a lot of the innate supernatural abilities of the forms they take as well as the physical ones. Her bugbear form not only has the strength of a bugbear but also the ability to fly with wings that cannot support a creature that size without magic. Her dragon form can breathe fire.
Cockatrices have a petrifying gaze. Ocellus has no idea if she will gain that. Or if she will be able to control it if she does. Better to play things safe.
Ocellus concentrates. She's only seen a cockatrice once. They aren't exactly a creature you go looking for in the wild. But Professor Fluttershy had persuaded Silverstream to bring her friend Edith to class...
Thump!
"Ocellus?" Gallus calls, carefully not looking away from the door. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," Ocellus whimpers as she pulls her muzzle up from the carpet. "I just realized what Silverstream was doing back at the Treehouse."
Cockatrice-Ocellus snakes her way through the tangled vines filling the duct. The passage is more spacious than she expected, but the vines cut that in half. No wonder it took Gallus hours to make it down one hallway. Ocellus' heart hurts for her friend.
The vines are like an infestation, she thinks. But that's not right. She has seen the purple-leafed ones connecting to the wall sconces. After the flamethrower performance, it is clear they carry some sort of flammable smoke. A specific variation of the same blue smoke that the three onyx pillars conjure in their crafting ritual. Dark essence.
Ocellus pushes between clusters of dark, rough-barked vines. Half of them snake down through a hole in the duct. The design is elegant. Torches fueled by vines which are concealed behind the walls, not marring the aesthetics of the palace. More hidden vines provide water for the fountains and bathrooms and other necessities.
Only more than half the sconces do not work, and this duct is choked with overgrowth. Nightmare Moon has been gone for years. Most of the servants who cared for the place were put to rest. The Palace of Nightmare Moon is deteriorating.
A faint jade glow ahead -- not the blue fire of the wall sconces nor the lime green of changeling pods -- emanating from the hole of another ceiling vent, this one half-open. The one Gallus must have climbed in through.
With a few flaps of her wings, Cockatrice-Ocellus' undulating flight taking her over the last bramble of vines.
And brings her face to face with a drone.
The black-carapaced drone's ocelli open wide in shock. She hisses predatorily at Ocellus...
...and her face freezes that way as she turns to stone.
The unopened half of the vent groans under the weight of the changeling-sized statue.
NO! Ocellus screams, or at least tries to. What comes out is a shrieking squawk.
Jade light illuminates the drone statue from below. Ocellus hears one of the screws pop out of the vent, falling to the floor below. She immediately envisions the vent breaking, the drone falling to the floor and shattering into stone chucks. In her mind's eye, the chunks transform back into gobbets of bloody flesh and chitin upon her death.
Ocellus swoops forward, staring the statue in the cold stone eyes. REVERT! She thinks the word as hard as she can. Cockatrices can turn their victims back. She knows this. Silverstream is living proof. REVERT! REVERT!REVERT!
Ocellus' talons grip the grating below her. She wraps her wings about the statue's neck, her eyes nearly pressed against it. TURN BACK! Another screw pops loose as Ocellus' weight adds to the mass on the breaking vent.
She wraps the statue's torso in her tail, pulling with all her form's strength. But a changeling-sized chunk of stone is more than she can move. She keeps her eyes locked on the statues', terrified that her foolishness is about to murder the drone.
TURN BACK! REVERT! TURN BACK!
Stone cracks with a flash of light. The drone stumbles forward. The shift is too much for the vent. With a sheering metallic snap, the grating holding them plunges to the floor below. The drone attempts to spread her wings, but Ocellus' tail is wrapped tightly around them. She falls, dragging Cockatrice-Ocellus out of the duct with her.
Ocellus groans, dazed from the fall. She feels pain running through her side and her left forehoof, telling her she has reverted form. The first thing she hears is the click of a lock. The first thing she sees is the jade glow filling the room. Coming from an emerald, ring-shaped stone hovering above a column similar to the black onyx ones.
It's not a ring, she thinks muddily as the shock of the fall fades. The Elements of Harmony shaped themselves into the cutie marks of her professors. It's a new moon.
A dark form steps between her and the light.
"Nice trick," the drone hisses venomously at Ocellus, standing between her and Envy. "I've got a better one!"
The drone pulls out a long, moonsilver needle, identical to the one in Ocellus took from the closet children. Dark blue smoke swirls malevolently in the bulb.
The door opens behind her.
The drone lifts the needle and turns it so the sharp point is aimed at her own face.
No. Ocellus' body freezes, her ocelli refusing to look away, her legs refusing to move. She's not!
A strange feeling of violation wells up in her, like a filth pit in her soul. A memory of an early class with Professor Pie bubbles up from the depths of her mind. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.
That was not a cupcake.
From behind her comes the almost jovial voice of her friend. "That was so easy it's a wonder creatures even bother with locks." Gallus' tone is the very essence of unimpressed. "Any unicorn with a bobby pin and a screwdriver..."
The griffon steps into the room and stops abruptly, his snark dropping away at the sight before him.
The love-starved changeling jabs the needle into her own eye!
Ocellus screams in horror! The drone screams in pain. Gallus lets out a yelp.
The drone stumbles back, hissing in agony, the moonsilver needle sticking out of her. The blue smoke broils as the bulb empties into her brain.
"Gah! No-no-no-no-no-no!" Gallus' voice is saturated with revulsion. His wings flap in dismay. "That is not okay!"
Ocellus wants to clutch her own eye in sympathetic pain. Her stomach churns, a hollow flushing washing over her body. The feeling of frost ants crawling through her muscles. Her wings beat in a frenzy beneath her elytra.
Emerald fire flickers around the changeling's body in truncated arcs. Transformation energy repeatedly breaking and aborting like a thousand arcs of static electricity dancing over the changeling's chitin. She collapses on the floor, twitching in agony.
Ocellus' paralysis breaks. She launches to her hooves and gallops towards the suffering drone.
A flash of electric lime arcs from the drone, slamming into Ocellus' breast, throwing her back. She hits the floor, her muscles spasming, her heart beating arrhythmically.
The drone stands up, wobbling, the arcs cascading over her body intensifying. The needle still in her eye. Her face is a rictus of anguish drawn into a clown's grin.
Gallus rushes to his friend's side, holding Ocellus as she stops twitching from the vicious shock. He helps her onto her hooves.
The drone's smile becomes more natural as the crackling and zapping of green across her body diminishes. Ocellus can hear her let out a breath. It sounds like static.
The drone collapses again, her body bursting into a hundred electric-green lights that wash across the floor.
Ocellus' heart and lungs seize, preventing her body from releasing the shriek of horror her soul wants to unleash.
Gallus squawks loudly in alarm, backpedaling until he hits the door, slamming it shut.
The small lights begin to cluster, rising off the floor. Electricity arcs within the clusters in mounting ferocity.
Ocellus hears Gallus gasping. "Since when... can changelings... change into multiple creatures?!!"
Ocellus doesn't believe her eyes could open any wider, but they do. She wants to insist it is impossible, but she is seeing what Gallus is seeing.
Clusters of electric-lime twittermites rise together, forming a vague image of the drone's former face. The swarm-face hisses at her, blasting Ocellus with another bolt of lightning.
"Ocellus!"
It burns! Ocellus falls back to the floor, her body's movements completely out of her control, her mind filled with a storm of white.
Gallus swoops over, grabbing her convulsing body off the floor. Green lightning lashes above and beneath them, barely missing the two friends, filling their nostrils with ozone.
The swarm head crumples, breaking into clusters again. Spreading out as much as the narrow room allows. Shooting lightning between them. Building up power.
Gallus sets Ocellus down next to the door and pulls the handle. It is locked again. "Oh you have got to be kidding me!" he shouts at it in frustration.
Ocellus whimpers, feeling her body obey her again. The feeling comes with pain.
"Got any more of those splork balls?" Gallus asks in desperation.
Ocellus hates shaking her head. It was a good plan. The resin would trap and insulate the twittermites. But they didn't have any more of Queen Elytra's weaponized royal jelly.
Pure dread slams down on the changeling nymph. She goes pale, her ears pasting back, her wings buzzing under her elytra so hard they feel like they will snap off. The realization is but the first boulder in an avalanche of horror:
She has the next best thing.
"Gallus." Ocellus' voice is dead. She sounds like she has gone into shock. "Use your wings. Corral them."
Ocellus closes her eyes, the avalanche pounding down on her. Hatred. Disgust. Abhorrence. Her body quakes as she forces herself to transform.
Chrysalis opens her eyes.
The twittermite swarm launches another blast at her. Chrysalis-Ocellus grunts, bracing herself, shuddering. But she stands. Changeling queens possess more resilient chitin than love-starved drones, drastically more so than love-filled changelings.
Pharynx is right, Chrysalis-Ocellus thinks. We have become soft.
She looks to her side.
Gallus is staring at her, beak agape. At her look, he shuts it. "Right. On it!"
Lime lightning flashes.
She turns her glare back to the twittermites. She can feel prickles in the back of her skull, sharp needles of aversion. A crawling beneath her chitin. Her very soul is rejecting the form in a shriek of antipathy. She needs to make this fast.
Gallus flies above her, flapping his wings forward as hard as he can, creating gusts too strong for the twittermites to fly against. Washing them into a corner.
They unleash lightning at him. Gallus squawks loudly in pain, his feathers and fur poofing. It takes him a moment to recover, but fortunately the lightning bolt seemed weaker than those which had struck her. The swarm was generating less power when forced together.
With a furious beating of her horrid wings, Chrysalis-Ocellus lifts her repugnant form into the air and begins to spit.
The twittermites lash at her with lightning. Each attack feels weaker than the last.
Chrysalis-Ocellus flies ahead of Gallus. Her chitin will protect her better than his fur. But beneath the courage is a rotten humor. She doesn't mind if this body gets hurt.
She aims where the clusters are largest. Globules of royal jelly form in the back of her throat to be expelled at the electrical insects. The texture is slimy; the taste fills her mouth. Sickly sweet, phlegmy, with a bitter saccharin undertone. Ocellus wants to vomit.
Below and behind her, Gallus keeps the swarm pushed back.
Chrysalis-Ocellus spits again. The electric insects try to scatter as the lime-green mass invades their space. The nucleus of the cluster is enveloped by viscous green, the gobbet dragging them to its rendezvous with the wall. The sticky mass splatters grotesquely, over a score of twittermites spreading across the surface violently, mired in a prison of quickly hardening resin.
I'm looming over them. Ocellus wants to concentrate, get this done and over, but the voice in her head won't stop. Like she used to loom over us. Threatening. Ready to punish.
Another splatter of Chrysalis-spit. The taste is cloying, burrowing up her sinuses. Digging into her brain.
She is a drone, just like me...
No. Was. But not anymore.
Ocellus gives a hiss worthy of a changeling queen. She might wear the form of her worst nightmare, but she is not the true horror here. Whatever this abomination is, it is no longer a changeling.
Chrysalis-Ocellus spits again.
With a flash of turquoise fire, Ocellus is herself again.
Ocellus breathes in short puffs, shaking a bit from the exertion. Her mouth curls in a frown, her eyes clinching in disgust. She wants a bath. She wants to scrub so hard her chitin cracks, as if that could scrub the Chrysalis off of her.
Instead, she takes a deep breath, focusing, trying to steady herself. She let's the breath out. And with that breath, she visualizes exhaling the wretched association. Breathe in. Breathe out. And with each exhalation, the stink of having taken her old queen's form is blown farther away.
It is a technique the councilor of the Feelings Forum taught her not long after she and her friends encountered the Tree of Harmony. You chose what you saw in my roots, not me, the Tree had told them. What she had seen was herself as Chrysalis, and the idea that she had brought that into the caves with her had been the source of more than one nightmare afterwards. She never imagined she would take that form willingly.
Another breath. In. Out. So far away now that the taint of it has disappeared. Ocellus opens her eyes and looks around for where Envy has been knocked to. The room is filled with scorch marks and splatters of bioluminescent resin. The sight of the latter sickens her, knowing this royal jelly came from her mouth.
Her eyes catch on a sliver of silver.
Laying on the floor is another of those... things. A long needle of silvery metal, almost as long as her foreleg. The far end expands into a bulb, like some horrible syringe. Blue smoke swirls within, twisting and dancing hypnotically.
Not far lays a pencil. A little farther, one of her notebooks. Objects spilled from her saddlebags in the fight. Or possibly in the fall. Her gaze is pulled back to the needle.
Ocellus steps closer, examining it.
Changelings can transform into nearly any creature they have studied or interacted with -- the latter producing a more accurate result. Her own repertoire was significant thanks to her time in Equestria, particularly with her trips through the Everfree Forest to the Treehouse. But there are things that changelings simply cannot do. Or, at least, couldn't. This thing changed that.
Ocellus feels an unfamiliar stab in her heart as she realizes her repertoire is no longer that impressive. As a changeling, she has been outclassed. Ocellus' frown deepens, her brow etching in worry. She doesn't know why she should feel that. She's never been competitive about her shapeshifting abilities before. To the contrary, she disliked being known primarily for them. She had joined the Cheer Squad specifically to make herself known for something else.
She steps closer, her eyes fixed on the long, slender needle. The bulb at the end swirls with green smoke (wait, wasn't it blue?), and with it promises of being a better changeling.
"Ocellus?" She hears her friend behind her. Close, but he sounds strangely distant. Hesitant.
Ocellus swallows. Things had changed. Her enemies were other changelings. They outnumbered her. The only chance of destroying the portal, or maybe getting home... the only chance of Gallus getting home!... was to be a better changeling. She needed to do this.
Ocellus reaches out for the smoke needle. It is cold and hard to the touch. The metal looks moonsilver. Shiny and pure, reflecting the green light.
"Ocellus!"
To become a better changeling, all she has to do...
"Ocellus!" Gallus grabs her shoulder. His voice sounds cross.
Ocellus' mind flashes to the horrible sight of the changeling injecting the smoke directly into her brain.
...is stick it into her eye!
NOPE!
Ocellus backpedals, dropping the needle. It lets out a musical ting as it hits the marble floor. The blue smoke swirls inside its bulb.
She blinks, then looks past it to where Envy lays, the green gemstone glowing, casting light down on where the needle had been. The changeling buzzes her wings, shaking off a shiver.
Then she unslings her saddlebag and scoops up both the needle and the anti-Element, closing the bag's flap and snugging it tightly shut without touching either of its new contents.
Ocellus sways on her hooves. A sense of relief and rationality blows over her like a calming spring wind. There is absolutely no sane reason for her to feel envious of what the drone just did to herself.
Ocellus looks down at the piles of resin, forcing back revulsion and focusing on the twittermites inside. They are alive, of course. Just like the drone in the Grand Hall, and like any creature trapped in a changeling pod. Just like Luna. But are they still a changeling? Did she kill someone when she trapped different parts of the swarm in different ejaculations of royal jelly?
Her heart worries. The rational part of her mind says the changeling ceased to be the moment she became they.
The swarm face suggests otherwise.
Ocellus tries not to think about it.
"Okay, I have to ask, why the eye?!"
Ocellus pauses. How should she know? She is certain that she was at least as freaked out by that as he was. Probably more! Does Gallus just expect her to know why strange changelings from a love-starved hive would do insane things? Just because she's a changeling?
Ocellus loads a look and then shoots it in a direction that isn't her friend. Then does her best to sort out an answer to the question. Not because she knows, but because she is curious -- morbidly curious -- as well.
"Well, the metal looks like moonsilver," she offers. "And we learned in Rarity's class that moonsilver is a soft metal that is good for making jewelry and accessories. So it probably wouldn't go through our chitin."
Her mind flashes back to the fight in the Grand Hall. Firing puckwudgie needles at the love-starved drone, knowing they couldn't pierce his chitin. "And if the stuff inside the bulb has to be injected directly into the brain, there aren't many options. Eyes, roof of the mouth... ears, maybe?" She shudders. "Nostrils?"
Gallus stares. "If those are all options, why would anyone not choose mouth?"
Ocellus feels a surge of frustration. She understands why Gallus is hung up on this. Her own mind is screaming. Her thoughts are fighting against a non-coherent background chorus of eye-eye-eye-eye with layers of ow and ew and a dozen other cringing declarations.
She bites back I don't know! and instead offers, "Well, I guess that would depend on the taste?"
"No. It really wouldn't."
Ocellus sighs and shrugs, simply admitting, "I really have no idea." Gallus nods, accepting that. Ocellus has no doubt this will come up again. But she is happy for the respite.
She looks around. Then over at the blue slate door. Which is still locked. "Looks like we have to head up."
Gallus pales. "How about you head up and unlock the door from the other side for me?" There is a tone of desperation that makes Ocellus feel bad for having even suggested otherwise. "It is really easy. I promise."
Ocellus sighs again, but this time the sigh comes with a smile. "Sure. Don't go anywhere while I'm gone."
Gallus smiles back, chuckling.
She spreads her wings and flies up, climbing into the hole where the vent grating used to be. No more expeditions as a cockatrice. She is sticking to her natural form.
From below, she hears Gallus say, "For the sake of my sanity, I'm going to assume that whatever our friend here doped herself with worked as advertised."
Ocellus turns and looks down from the hole of the broken vent. Gallus sits firmly on the floor, looking back up at her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean what I saw was creepy enough. I don't want to think about her sticking that needle in her eye with no idea what it would do," Gallus says. "Or imagine it did something completely unrelated... and you guys all have the ability to turn into swarms of creatures."
Ocellus blinks. Then smiles brightly. "You mean you didn't know? I'm not only able to turn into a rock, I'm actually all the rocks in Ponyville."
"Ha ha." Gallus leans back on the floor, preparing to wait. "Why not all the rocks in Equestria?"
"Oh, I wouldn't want to invade another 'ling's personal space," Ocellus says as she turns to face the way out, waving her tail membrane at him. "Most of the other cities are already taken. The changeling who is all the rocks in Griffinstone is named Tenna."
Dragon-Ocellus swings the blue slate door open, rather proud of her first lockpicking success. A column of turquoise fire flashes around her as she becomes Ocellus-Ocellus again. He'll react better if I look like me. Her receptors are open and she can taste the love in his thankfulness.
She samples a little. Gallus won't mind. The flavor of mackerel with hints of tomato soup and spiced chocolate fill her, warming her entire body. The gloom of the palace seems to ebb in the wake of it.
If that is what actual mackerel tastes like, she thinks with a smile, I have to find a form for going fishing with Gallus.
"You look like the griffon who caught the canary," Gallus says.
Ocellus starts, looking down at herself. The memory of having unintentionally taken dragon form around Smolder flashes through her mind. She lets out a caught breath as she sees she is still nymph-her.
"I didn't mean literally."
Ocellus chuckles nervously, running a hoof over the back of her head. She notices that Gallus has his saddlepack now. He had abandoned it in a corner of the Envy Room to crawl through the duct.
Ocellus moves to pick up her lantern. Gallus snatches it up.
"I've got that," he tells her. "We can't talk if you're carrying it in your mouth." Their conversations thus far had involved a lot of stopping to put down the lantern.
The pair of friends begin retracing Ocellus' path back to the Throne Room.
I've never just been a dragon around Gallus, the nymph realizes. There were times she would transform around him as part of a joke or fun activity, or because another form was needed to accomplish a task. But she didn't just casually hang out with Gallus... or any of her friends, really... in a form other than her natural one. Except Smolder.
That's because Smolder doesn't care.
She shakes her head. No, that's not right. But what is right is hard to put into words.
Ocellus stops abruptly as they turn the corner into a familiar hallway. Gallus continues walking until she steps (gently) on his tail. The griffon chokes back a squawk of alarm.
"What?" he hisses in a whisper.
Ocellus' eyes narrow, glaring forward. "That credenza had three goblets on it when we came through before."
There are four goblets.
Gallus raises an eyebrow. "Really?"
Ocellus nods.
The nymph's thoughts churn. What now? She knows one of those goblets is a changeling, but she doesn't know which one. And what do they do with it? She is not transforming into Chrysalis again. If she and Gallus keep fighting drones, some creature is going to end up seriously injured. She can't keep knocking them unconscious. Eventually, she'll kill one that way.
Ocellus gasps as Gallus throws her lantern at the goblets. By the time she registers the desire to catch it, protecting the little lantern from harm, it is already knocking through the quartet of cups. A flash of green bursts over the credenza.
The changeling drone glares at Gallus, hissing. Then turns and shoots off down the hall.
"Wait!" Ocellus cries out, taking to the air! "You don't have to starve anymore!"
The drone reaches the end of the hall, diving through the open stained-glass doors. The doors swing shut in the wind of its passing.
"Listen to me!" Ocellus calls out. Then sighs, landing. "They won't listen."
Gallus blinks twice. "Should we chase it?" he asks belatedly.
And do what? "It's gone."
Ocellus scrambles after her poor lantern. "No throwing my lantern. Treat her nice."
Gallus lifts a talon and opens his beak, but the nymph's glare shuts him up.
Teenk. Tunk.
As Gallus pulls open the stained-glass double doors to the drawing room, Ocellus cautiously steps through.
"I get not wanting to hurt them, Ocellus. But if they attack us..." Gallus frowns. "Hurt is an outcome of fighting."
"I am not going to become Chrysalis again!" Ocellus hisses.
Teenk. Tunk.
"I am so not suggesting that!" Gallus says defensively. "But if we're going to be fighting changelings... those kinds of changelings... we need a better way to do so."
Ocellus scowls at him. But she cannot blame him for the awkwardness he must be feeling. How do you talk to a changeling about love-starved changelings?
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus' ears perk. She looks around the drawing room.
The cloudy-white wallpaper makes the room much lighter and more inviting than any other part of Nightmare Moon's Palace so far. But the wallpaper is peeling, and there are several odd stains. One whole section near the gothic stone fireplace is rotting.
Chairs, couches, low-sitting tables. Ornate lamps of moonsilver and polished adventurine tipped with figurines of Nightmare Moon. And the most unusual feature...
Teenk. Tunk.
"Okay, I might not be up on goblet counting," Gallus says flatly, "But I know that grandmare clock wasn't ticking when we came through last time."
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus had noticed the tall, gaunt gothic clock their first time through. Carved onyx with moonsilver weights and pendulum, arched bat wings rising up behind its face, the face itself softly glowing moon devoid of numbers, the time noted by moonsilver forks.
"Do you think it's a changeling?" Gallus asks, his ears dipping back and his tail curling with anxiety. "Or did our fleeing friend just decide to wind up the clock on its way out."
Teenk. Tunk.
"Her way out," Ocellus corrects. She pauses, and feels gratitude when Gallus does not ask how she can tell. "And I don't think so."
The changeling nymph feels a chill. Another idea occurs to her. "Maybe it started when we took Envy?"
Teenk. Tunk.
"Points for ominous." Gallus shies away, moving towards the opposite set of stained-glass doors.
Ocellus finds herself drawn to one of the walls, observing the odd stains. In some places, it almost looks like the clouds in the design had rained, ruining the paper.
"Hey, Ocellus?"
The changeling nymph turns away from her wallpaper inspection, catching a somber note in Gallus' voice.
Teenk. Tunk.
Gallus is looking back at her with a sadness in his eyes that she can't quite define. She tastes the love from him, muted heavily by a dominant emotion she cannot taste. The tomato soup is gone, replaced with a cool mint.
"I know a bit about facing personal nightmares here. What you did back there, changing into her..." Gallus says carefully. "That was the bravest thing I've ever seen you do. And I'm guessing the hardest."
Ocellus doesn't know what to say. For a moment, it appears Gallus does not either.
Teenk. Tunk.
"Look, I'm not Smolder, but... if you need to talk. Or hug. Or something."
Ocellus feels a moment of almost bitter confusion. Why would it matter that you aren't Smolder? You're my friend too! The thought is almost immediately followed by an uncomfortable acknowledgement that she would prefer to have Smolder with her. This is the sort of deeply private thing she only shares with her roommate, and only during their secret tea parties.
"I-I..." Ocellus' wings buzz under her elytra. "Thank you."
Teenk. Tunk.
Gallus winces. "Let's get out of this room before that clock drives me crazy." He sets down the lantern and grabs the double doors by both handles.
Ocellus' eyes widen as the light from the lantern shines through the stained glass. She can see the shattered remains of two more stained glass doors laying in the next room. Her ocelli flick upwards along the doorframe, taking note of the splintering. "Gallus...!"
The stained-glass doors Gallus is holding erupt in green transformation magic. A pair of changelings pin Gallus to the ground.
Gallus squawks in fright, too surprised to be terrified. He struggles, but together the two drones are stronger.
One opens her mouth, siphoning smoky wisps of love from his chest. The other helps hold him down, hissing at Ocellus.
Gallus grunts. "N-n-no!"
Teenk. Tunk.
Something bright snaps through Ocellus at seeing Gallus' love violated. As the smoke curls up towards the drone's open jaw, a brilliant turquoise light cascades in front of Ocellus.
Whoosh-WHAM!
Ocellus flashes across the room in an instant -- a blazing turquoise comet that tears through the intervening furniture -- slamming into the two drones and smashing them into the far wall of the next room.
Ocellus steps back wobbly, shaking her head to clear the ringing in her ears. The two drones lay limply at her hooves.
She is checking their breathing when Gallus swoops up to her.
"Thanks for the save," he says. It is unnecessary. She can taste how grateful he is. "But if you don't mind my asking, what kind of magic was that? I didn't know changelings could do more things than change shape."
Ocellus closes her eyes. Forbidden memories resurface. Memories of attacking Canterlot. Shattering that pink shield surrounding the city. Surrounding herself with her collision barrier as the drones around her did the same. Bombarding the city like a green star shower. Shooting down a hundred feet and slamming into a mare at full speed. Recovering. Feeding.
Ocellus sighs heavily, shaking off the foul memory. "Something I haven't used in a long time."
She was lucky she didn't kill that mare. But then, she hadn't wanted to kill her. You can't feed from a corpse.
Ocellus turns and walks away, pushing ahead as she falls into deep quiet.
"I'm just saying," Gallus bites, "If we find Smolder in here, and she's in a dress, I called it."
Ocellus stops, the griffon's words finally cutting through the melancholy. She feels a warm flutter inside at the thought. "Do you think so? That more of our friends are here?"
Gallus looks relieved to hear his changeling friend talking again. "Maybe. It's possible. If you are right about the evil queen dragging us here to get the anti-Elements for her, then... how many of them are there again?"
"Four," Ocellus answers quickly. So if she was right, that meant two of her four other friends were in this place as well. Assuming they didn't all escape. "Did any of the others get away?"
The words taste sour. She hasn't told Gallus yet what is happening to Luna. Or that any of their friends who aren't here are probably also being drained of their memories.
"Last I saw before the tentacle wrapped around my face was Yona breaking free," Gallus says, offering hope. "Apparently, yaks are best at not being paralyzed."
A fond smile slips into the nymph's expression. Go Yona!
As he passes and turns the corner, Gallus adds glumly, "I didn't see what happened to the others... whoah."
Ocellus flies around the griffon to see the hallway before them. She mentally echoes his whoah. They have made it back to where he fell out of the ceiling.
Scorch marks cover much of the walls and floor. The changeling queen goop has fully solidified into a luminescent green resin, looking like a dozen twisted and malformed changeling pods. Resin hangs from the ceiling and dangling vines in warped stalactites and splatters the walls like unholy eczema. Between the fire damage and the weight of the resin, several more ceiling tiles have collapsed. More vines hang limply from the enlarged opening.
Ocellus lands, folding her wings in tight under her elytra. There is no danger to stepping on the resin smattered over the floor, but she doesn't want to risk snaring one of her delicate wings on the hardened, knife-like strands that hang like luminescent green icicles. Behind her, Gallus follows suit.
"This is safe, right?"
Ocellus nods. "I grew up around this stuff." She eyes a twisted clump rising from the ground like a half-melted changeling. "Although I've never seen it this creepy before."
Gallus stares about. "So, there is a changeling queen making... what, grenades of her throw-up?"
Ocellus makes a face. Then stops as she spots two of her dice that had fallen from her saddlebags. She writes off the ten-sided that is fully encased in green resin. But one of her twenty-sided dice sits in a rough circle of clean between mounds of glowing resin.
It made its saving throw, she thinks, giggling inwardly as she lowers her saddlebag to scoop it up.
She recognizes her mistake in the flash of green transformation magic.
The changeling drone kicks her hard, sending her flying back across knife-edged grotesqueries of resin. Lime blades slash across her, scraping her elytra harmlessly but cutting deep into the softer chitin of her legs and the back of her neck.
Ocellus crumples into a bleeding heap, crying out from the pain shooting through her limbs. She squeezes her eyes tight, tears seeping between her eyelids. Through closed eyes, she can see the flash of her own transformation magic.
Bunny-Ocellus rolls onto her bleeding feet and scampers as fast as she can, dodging and jumping the hardened resin splatters, fighting through the pain that lances up her with every leap. The only thing on her mind is getting free of the hallway. Hopefully drawing the drone. She does not want to fight in the hall of resin knives.
She hears Gallus shout just as she clears the last of the bioluminescent lime aftermath. She curses inwardly, realizing the drone went for her other target. Bunny-Ocellus spins around, expecting to see Gallus being drained. Not registering the tone of the griffon's shout.
Gallus wasn't afraid; he was annoyed.
Bunny-Ocellus stares as Gallus tussles with Gallus. The two Galluses somersault over each other, rolling across bladed resin. Both are bleeding. The griffon's saddlepack has been severed from his back, laying on the floor near a hall bench.
With a flurry of wings, the fight goes airborne, one Gallus slamming the other back against the charred remains of an oil painting. With a grunt, the other Gallus pushes back against the wall, his strong lion hindlegs propelling them both into a bundle of vines.
Ocellus tries to taste which of the two is the real Gallus, but she's getting nothing from either of them. Anxiety, fear, determination... even primal survival rage are often experienced by a creature during a fight. Love almost never is. It's why this tactic caused so much confusion in Canterlot: not even the changelings could tell each other apart from their prey.
Ocellus opens her muzzle only to shut it again. This isn't like the hole in the ceiling. Asking Gallus to feel love in the middle of a struggle for his survival will not work. As fast as she can, Ocellus mentally sorts through her repertoire in the hopes of finding a form that will help.
Gallus stares at Ocellus. "I cannot believe you changed into Cozy Glow!"
The nymph shrugs with a smile as she wraps her bleeding left foreleg in bandages raided from Gallus' saddlepack.
"It was the only form I could think of that I knew you would react to and he - she wouldn't!"
Ocellus looks over at the changeling drone hogtied in torn vines. She knows that isn't going to hold her. Ocellus knows she would just change into a bunny to get out. This drone would probably turn into a cup. They seemed to have an odd affinity for goblets. She wonders idly if that is the first form they are taught to mimic.
Either way, once Ocellus had choked the girl out, it seemed cathartic for her friend to tie up the Gallus-impersonator, so she said nothing.
Ocellus is distracted from her thoughts by Gallus's cheery voice. "Hey, Ocellus. I found your real twenty-sider."
Ocellus looks over at where Gallus has stopped, his head bent and eyes on the ground.
"Oh great! Thank you." She pauses. "...Assuming it's not another love-starved drone."
Ocellus gasps as Gallus casually picks it up and rolls it. The dice doesn't turn into a changeling. It rolls like a dice, stopping with a "20" on its uppermost face.
"We're keeping it," Gallus announces.
Ocellus cautions, "That doesn't mean it's not..."
"We're. Keeping. It."
Ocellus nods, flying over and pulling off her saddlebags. The nymph deposits the rescued die in her bags as Gallus walks back to examine his own saddlepack. She sees him pick it up, eyeing the slashed straps. The griffon begins tying them together as best he can.
Her friend's expression brightens. The griffon looks over at her, a smile spreading across his beak. "Oh! Ocellus?"
"No," Ocellus says flatly.
His smile falters. "I just..."
"Nope."
"But..."
Ocellus puts her hoof down. "I am not going to add dice to my change repertoire so you can cheat at Ogres & Oubliettes. Don't ask again."
Gallus turns back to his saddlepack, frumping, "Technically, I haven't asked the first time."
He pulls his pack onto his back. It looks tight and uncomfortable. His bandages are turning crimson. So are hers. The cuts on the back of her neck sting most.
The two move on, soon reaching the pillars where the void barrier had stood. The broom is still sticking out of the column, its handle buried deep in the hole. The broken bust of Nightmare Moon lays on the floor.
Gallus nudges her and points. "Okay, now they're not even trying."
Ocellus blushes. "Actually, those are from me." At his look, she adds, "I'll explain later."
Oh!
Ocellus rushes ahead. Gallus squawks and takes off after her, catching up as she reaches the wall mirror and the open closet.
The three adolescent drones are gone. Ocellus isn't certain if she should be happy or worried.
"Okay, what gives?" Gallus grumps as Ocellus turns to the mirror and starts clopping at it. Blood has soaked through the wrapping on her right hoof, leaving dark red smears on the glass.
"Luna? Luna!" The changeling nymph receives no answer. The mirror continues to reflect the open closet: shelves with odd supplies. A wall with a stain.
The stain grows.
Gallus freezes, turning and staring into the closet.
The stain eats into the back wall. Festering. The surface bubbles, decaying, collapsing inward like layers of skin being eaten by acid.
The bubbles pop. Blue smoke pours out.
Gallus backs up, crashing into Ocellus.
A pair of slitted eyes appear in the smoke. The smoke forms into the semblance of a batwinged pony, but doesn't solidify.
"...whattheheck..." Gallus squeaks, his body pinning hers beneath.
A voice emanates from the foggy apparition, the voice stilted and emotionless, the sound echoing within itself. The voice reminds Ocellus starkly of the voice of the Tree of Harmony pretending to be Twilight Sparkle. But it is not Twilight's voice. Nor is the voice dark and ominous, as Ocellus would expect, but overly cheerful. Like Professor Pie might have sounded as a little filly. Roiling blue and black mist imitate a moving mouth, but the movements bear no connection to the words.
"You. Are. Injured. Allow. Me. To. Assist. You."
The eyes of the apparition glow brightly, bathing them with light. Ocellus feels her cuts stop itching. The bruises beneath her chitin fade.
The specter's eyes stop glowing, dissolving into the smog. Then the entire pony-like thing loses coherency, collapsing back into the stain.
Ocellus feels herself locked in place. Her mind has seized. She is too freaked out to move.
"The creepy just keeps coming." Gallus.
Her friend finally moves off of her. Gallus helps her up, closing the closet door with his tail. As Ocellus gets her hooves under herself again, the griffon begins peeling off blood-soaked bandages. The wounds beneath are closed.
Giving the door a wide berth, he decides to go back for the broom, telling her there are too many things in this place he doesn't want to touch without a long stick. "Seriously, this place should be an attraction. We should sell tickets."
More changeling drones patrol the Grand Stair.
Ocellus counts five, but she cannot be certain. They keep switching places. At the moment, two are on the stairs and one is standing in the arch of the bathroom. Two are flying. One of the fliers lands at the base of the Grand Stair while the drone at the bathroom turns and walks into the ebony-bricked room. The one who landed starts up the steps as the drone on the left wing of the stairs takes to flight.
She looks to Gallus as they crouch behind a dark-stoned pillar. The griffon nods, holding the handle of the one true broom in one talon.
Fighting one or two drones at a time has been rough. She's not sure they can survive being attacked by a full patrol. Stealth is their best option.
Unfortunately, while she can turn into a tiny little bat and keep out of sight, Gallus...
...is not next to her anymore!
His saddlepack is at her hooves. Ocellus looks around frantically. Where did he go? She was just looking at him! "Gallus?" she whispers, trying not to be heard.
She looks up. Above her, she sees the shadow of her friend crouched against the glass of the balcony, barely visible in the shadow. Then he is gone, slipping silently to the next shadow, getting closer to the stairs.
"If it's all the same to you guys," Gallus said, stepping out onto the Treehouse balcony and stretching his wings. "I'm going fishing. Lunches at the School of Friendship are delicious but they lack protein."
Ocellus smiled at the predator clearly eager to get his hunt on. Beside her, Smolder gave a thumbs up.
They watched their blue-feathered friend launch himself into the air, swooping high before diving towards the river.
Ocellus feels bad for forgetting: Gallus is a predator. Gallus hunts.
She turns, looking for where the griffon has disappeared to. She searches the balcony. Her ocelli turn upwards. The vaulted ceiling is consumed in shadows. He could be anywhere up there.
Ocellus looks back at the Grand Stair. She gasps as she sees one of the patrol drones laying limply on the steps.
Unfortunately, another drone sees the unconscious form too. With a loud hiss of alarm, he darts towards the fallen guardian. He makes it halfway when Gallus slips out from behind a tapestry, wrapping the broom handle around the changeling's neck.
The two fall onto the stairwell, the caught drone swinging a foreleg to pummel Gallus' face as the griffon grunts, having to exert himself to choke through the softer chitin surrounding the drone's throat.
The slaps to Gallus' face become slower and weaker until the arm falls limp. The griffon starts to worm his way out from under the unconscious drone.
Ocellus turns at a shout. The drone who went into the bathroom shoots out, flying towards Gallus. But instead of tackling the griffon, the drone pulls up short. Ocellus' pulse quickens as she sees the tank on the changeling's back. "Gallus! Look out!"
Gallus thrusts the unconscious drone off himself, taking to the air as a stream of royal jelly sprays between them, coating several steps.
With a flash, Bugbear-Ocellus is in the air, climbing up behind the drone. He turns, swinging the nozzle around.
Ocellus thrusts her hindquarters at him. The bugbear's stinger pierces chitin.
The drone screams!
Ocellus sees a familiar instinct kick in: change to a form immune to poison. With a flash of green, the drone becomes a goblet, falling to the floor. The royal jelly sprayer drops to the marble, bouncing with a clank.
Ocellus feels a hard pang of guilt. She hated doing that. The sting wouldn't kill him, but it was going to cause him a lot of pain when he finally dealt with it. She doesn't want to hurt any of these poor, love-starved changelings. She really, really doesn't. It is not their fault they are living like this.
It shouldn't have to be this way. They don't have to be this way!
"Two more!" Gallus reminds her, flying up into the gloom above. She looks up, but the shadows have swallowed the griffon. She briefly sees his silhouette cut across the stars beneath the skylight. Then nothing.
Ocellus turns, trying to spot the two remaining drones. They are flying straight for her across the open space of the Grand Hall. She has a moment to wonder if two drones are really going to try to fight a bugbear.
As they flash with green, a jolt of fear shoots through the nymph. Not counting the swarm abomination, the only creature she has seen a member of this hive turn into is the one that drone was fighting. If her form causes two bugbears...
The thought cuts dead as she finds herself facing two Nightmare Moons.
Her eyes drink in with horror the pair of black alicorns swooping towards her -- not realistic forms, but rather grotesque effigies of Nightmare Moon based on statues and stained glass windows. Their manes don't flow but crease and crinkle like glass under pressure; the dragon-like irises glaring at her are stained glass.
They lower their horns as they fly to meet her, apparently intent on skewering.
Gallus drops from above, slamming into the back of a Nightmare Moon, driving her to the marble below.
Ocellus claws at the other, only to swipe at cold air as the black alicorn suddenly dives. Ocellus spins about, trying to reorient. She sees the Nightmare Moon beneath her, flying upside down, grinning at her as her horn glows.
What!?
The Grand Hall lights up in dazzling white and stark shadow as the black alicorn unleashes a blast of lightning. Bugbear-Ocellus screams, her nerves burning. She collapses to the marble next to Gallus and his opponent, reverting to her changeling form as smoke curls from her back.
The Nightmare Moon underneath Gallus rolls, pinning him beneath her. She opens her mouth, showing rows of stained-glass teeth.
Gallus' eyes widen in horror as those teeth begin to shift, sawing back and forth as she tries to bite him. He thrusts the broom handle into her mouth holding her back. The teeth begin to saw through the wood.
"Oh come on!" Gallus protests, indignation mixing with panic. "That's not how teeth work! Changelings have teeth. You know that!"
Ocellus pushes herself up, her muscles twitching hard but obeying, and throws herself at the Nightmare Moon on Gallus. The alicorn bats her away with a wing.
"They're not playing by the rules!" Ocellus grunts as she lands, her own head spinning. Alicorns are powerful, and maybe some of their magic is innate rather than learned spells, but this is insane!
The other Nightmare Moon cackles as she circles overhead. The sound is like a shattering mirror. Her horn glows, lightning flashing from its tip.
Ocellus turns her head. The royal jelly sprayer is just within one foreleg's reach.
The changeling nymph rolls, avoiding a blast of lightning that scorches the marble, and snatches up the sprayer. She doesn't have time to figure out how to use it. But the transparent tank is made of something hard enough that it shrugs off puckwudgie needles.
Ocellus flies towards Gallus and swings the tank as hard as she can against the back of his Nightmare Moon's head.
THUNK!
The Nightmare Moon goes down, sprawling. Groaning. Not even unconscious.
Gallus sweeps Ocellus up in both arms, clutching the nymph to his breast feathers, flogging the air with his wings. The griffon shoots straight up as lightning tears through the air where she had been.
The words of Luna come back to her: You will be safe inside. There are wards against enemies...
"Throne Room!" Ocellus gasps.
Gallus nods, not letting go, carrying his friend with him as he pumps his wings for all the mighty eagle's speed they will give him.
Behind, the first Nightmare Moon helps the second to her feet. They give chase, their horns beginning to glow as Gallus swoops up the Grand Stair and into the hall above.
The opulent doors to the Throne Room are open before them. Ocellus clings tightly to her friend as Gallus pushes for a last burst of speed.
Bolts of lightning rip across the hallway as Gallus and Ocellus fly between the Throne Room doors. The bolts strike the open air of the doorway like they are hitting water, dispersing in harsh brilliance.
The Nightmare Moons pulls back, stopping before they hit the threshold. They revert to drones, hissing angrily. Impotently.
Gallus drops to the floor, his grip on Ocellus turning to jelly. Ocellus collapses to the ground, her muscles feeling weak, her heartbeat rapid, her breath coming in gasps. An odd thunk reminds her that she is still holding the royal jelly sprayer. She discards it.
Gallus collapses against her on the floor, panting hard. The air is filled with the cursing chittering and hisses of the drones on the other side of the open door.
The analytical part of her mind wants to ask why she can enter this room when they can't. But right now she is too exhausted to be anything but thankful.
Ocellus and Gallus stare back as the two enemy changelings pace in frustration, shooting them hateful looks.
Still gasping for air, she asks Gallus, "Do you... have the urge... to nyah nyah?"
Panting hard, the griffon nods.
Neither of them do.
Gallus stares out the huge window at the bleakness of the outside world. "Wow. So that's... really the moon."
Ocellus knows exactly what he must be feeling. At least he isn't looking at it being a permanent home. "We'll get back," she lies, putting a hoof on his arm.
"And what's to stop the changelings -- the evil ones -- from just following us through?"
The two drones have left, reporting back to their queen. The hallway outside is silent again.
Ocellus really wishes her friend wasn't so perceptive. She looks away, her ocelli turning to the far end of the room, beyond the throne. But Luna is absent from the mirror. The surface shows only the nearly empty room, the two of them, and the moonscape beyond the window.
"I'm working on that," she finally says as she feels Gallus' gaze burrow into her. She cannot look at him when she says it. So instead, she gets up and walks towards the trio of onyx pillars.
"You're hiding something," Gallus observes, making her wince. Then, to make it worse, he asks, "Would you tell me if I were Smolder?" Gallus rubs his arm where she had been touching him.
Ocellus stops. Sits. Lays down.
Buries her face in her arms.
As thankful as she is for Gallus, she can't tell him. It is terrible and wrong and ugly, but she cannot burden him with that. And his words only remind her of how lonely she is going to be. And while her thoughts focus on Smolder, her heart remembers how much she misses all of the others.
She hears Gallus get up, his talons clacking on ther floor as he approaches her. He stops a wing's reach away. The silence feels stilted, awkward and full of bad secrets. It presses against her like a ratty blanket that might carry disease.
"My words are stupid," Gallus says. "Sorry. I miss them too."
Ocellus doesn't get up, but she slides herself to lie beside her friend. His tail curls around her.
The palace is cold. He is warm. More than physically in both cases.
Ocellus sits on the floor of the Throne Room, her saddlebags beside her. She tugs open the flap and reaches in, trying to ignore the green glow. Okay, from now on, anti-Elements in one bag, her supplies in the other.
The changeling nymph fishes out her lantern first. The moment she and Gallus had spotted the patrol in the Grand Hall, Gallus had put out the light and stuffed it in her bag. She doubts he realized which one.
Setting her loyal little lantern to the side, Ocellus reaches in again. This time, she brings out the moonsilver needle. The blue smoke roils lazily in the bulb.
"Ocellus...!" Gallus says warningly.
She glances at him. "I just want to study it. No eye-sticking."
Her friend nods, his eyes still a little narrowed. The blue griffon sits down across from her. "Okay. You sit there. And I'll sit here, ready to wingbeat you if that thing gets anywhere near your eye. Deal?"
Ocellus finds herself feeling thankful for the offer. She smiles. "Deal."
The two sit. Ocellus examines the needle, leaning close (sometimes enough to get a warning feather-ruffle), turning it about, willing it to give up its dark secrets. After several very long minutes, she determines it doesn't have any. It is exactly what it looks like.
"Dark essence," Ocellus announces with grim curiosity. "The drones are injecting themselves with dark essence."
Gallus gives her a blank look. He blinks, then raises a talon to his beak. "Uh... I may have slept through that class."
Ocellus smiles. "You didn't. Or if you did, I did too. I learned about it from Luna after I came here. It's what Nightmare Moon created the entire palace out of. She turned it into marble, glass, furniture, goblets... everything." The changeling looks over at Nightmare Moon's throne, once again taking in its gothic opulence. "She was really very artistic."
Gallus smirks. "I support creepy home decorating as a supervillain fallback position."
Ocellus is struck with an idea. This is pure dark essence. Enough to create something of real power.
Gallus watches as Ocellus gets up, walking towards the near wall. "So how does the stuff Nightmare Moon used to create chairs turn a changeling into... what we fought?"
Ocellus shakes her head. "Try not to think of it that way." She stops in front of the oil painting of Nightmare Moon's Seal. In a turquoise flash, she takes her dragon form. "Dark essence can be used to create anything." She pauses to lift the painting off the wall. "As long as it has a blueprint to work off of."
Gallus' eyebrows rise. "Define anything."
"Objects, creatures..." she answers as she flies over to the alcove with the three onyx pedestals. "Even things with powers."
Ocellus sets the oil painting on the middle capital just as she had before, then returns to where Gallus is sitting. She looks up at the mirror, checking to see if Luna has returned. When she sees her own dragon-form reflected instead, she whispers to Gallus, "I'm pretty sure Luna created the Tantabus out of this stuff."
Gallus stares, dumbfounded, as Ocellus picks up the needle and flies back to the trio of columns with it. He takes a moment to process that. "So primordial stuff of creation, able to make literally anything imaginable... and Nightmare Moon used it to create chairs? For creatures who didn't exist."
Ocellus nods, putting the needle on the first capital and stepping back. "And then she used it to make creatures to sit in those chairs."
Their conversation is interrupted by a flash of pitch-black fire rising from the first column. The needle dissolves upwards, becoming blue smoke and oily black droplets with sparkles of cerulean light. A lot more sparkles than the contents of the hall stand, Ocellus notes.
Gallus makes a sound as the smoke and oil vanish into bright, spectral flashes above the pillar.
Ocellus turns to watch the third pillar.
Flashes of spectral light above. Smoke and oil pouring out of the ether. The oil spinning into tendrils that weave together. Ocellus finds the process still eerie, but not as menacing as the first time. Rather, it's fascinating.
"What?" Gallus finally asks as the blue smoke is absorbed into the newly re-created seal.
Ocellus lifts it up, examining it. Then shows it off to Gallus, holding it in one draconic claw and the oil painting in the other.
Gallus' eyes dart between the two. "Whoa, now that is cool! Creepy as everything else, but cool."
He flies up, giving Nightmare Moon's Seal a closer look. "So, what is it? Other than really nasty-looking jewelry. Because if that's all it is, it really doesn't go with your... anything."
Dragon-Ocellus answers, "It's how we get outside."
Ocellus and Gallus lay on the floor, looking at the crude map in her notebook.
"I'm already looking forward to your turn Mastering our Ogres & Oubliettes game," Gallus says, unknowingly sending an icicle through Ocellus' heart. "This is good."
Ocellus hopes her friend didn't notice her flinch. "I'm really thinking we should save Wrath for last," she says quickly. "So that leaves the other two. I'm thinking..." she pokes a hoof at a large area at the end of the closer wing. "We go for Greed next."
Gallus rubs beneath his beak in consideration. "What do we know about that part of the palace?"
"Not a lot," Ocellus admits. "But we know the palace armory is in there somewhere..."
Gallus interrupts, "Wait, let me guess." He sits up and waves his talons. "Greed is in the treasury."
"No." Ocellus points at the huge room surrounded by tiny ones at the end. "Greed is in the dungeon."
Gallus' brow furrows. "Why does Nightmare Moon's palace have a dungeon?"
Ocellus looks again to the Grand Mirror. She knows the answer, but it really isn't hers to share.
Luna is still not there. Ocellus is beginning to worry.
"It was... for someone," she answers reluctantly, hoping Gallus won't press.
He does. "For someone? What, Nightmare Moon was creating prisoners as well as table guests? Or..." The griffon's expression turned pained. "That's where Nightmare Moon trapped Celestia when she came back, wasn't it?"
"I think so, yes." The question makes Ocellus wonder how Nightmare Moon got Celestia to the moon. And how the Princess broke free. Did the transformation of Nightmare Moon back to Luna weaken the prison somehow?
Those queries find their way in her growing mental notebook titled Unanswered Questions. She puts the new questions at the bottom.
At the top of the list are "Why are there changelings on the moon?" and "Why is Luna in a changeling pod?" Ocellus somewhat knows the answer to the second one: Queen Elytra is feeding on Luna's memories.
And unlike the portal home, the mirror portal must have gone both ways. At least enough for the black tentacles to come through. And apparently enough for royal jelly too. Besides, Luna wouldn't have taken them on a field trip with no way back. Nor wanted to expose them to anti-Elements to return. But...
Ocellus mentally crosses out "Why is Luna in a changeling pod?" and replaces it with "If the mirror portal goes both ways, why didn't Queen Elytra just come through with her army?
The obvious answer was that she couldn't. Ocellus looks at the quiet doorway, thinking of the drones and the way even their magic couldn't breach the threshold. Then to the Grand Mirror. Luna can only see the palace through mirrors. Only appear in them. And the Grand Mirror is the only one stable enough for a long visit. It made sense.
She crosses off the question.
"Why use us?" Gallus asks, breaking the thick quiet that had fallen over the Throne Room.
Ocellus looks up at him questioningly, her mental notebook still open.
"Going with your idea that the evil queen brought us here to have us grab the anti-Elements," Gallus explains, "Why doesn't this queen just have her drones grab these anti-Elements and open the portal?"
Ocellus' wings flutter as an unpleasant feeling rolls over her. "I-I don't know."
Gallus continues. "To me, that sounds like she's afraid of them. And I get that. Boy do I get that. So I totally get why she doesn't try to grab them herself. But it doesn't strike me that she cares about her drones any more than Chrysalis did. So why not sacrifice them?"
Having been just such a drone once, under just such a queen, the thought does not sit well with Ocellus. Not at all.
She adds another question to her mental notebook.
Gallus is strangely silent. The griffon has turned away from her, staring out over the barren waste of gray. Letting the nothingness wash over him. Ocellus puts a hoof on his back, between his wings muscles. Just letting him know she is there.
"Was the moral of the field trip: be thankful for what you have?" Gallus asks quietly. "If so, congratulations Luna. For the first time ever, I'd rather be in Griffonstone."
Ocellus has no response. She rubs his back a little with her hoof. She hopes it is as calming to griffons as it is to changelings. She also hopes it isn't as intimate. Griffons don't have elytra that they have to open to let some creature touch them there; they aren't making themselves vulnerable.
Gallus shrugs away. "Ready to go?"
Ocellus nods, backing up. She watches the griffon struggle with his saddlepack.
"At least this time we are better prepared," Ocellus notes as she puts Nightmare Moon's Seal into the saddlebag not reserved for anti-Elements. "I have the Seal, and I have this."
"Great. I'm sure that will help a lot," Gallus comments as Ocellus reaches down and scoops up the royal jelly sprayer. "Do you even know what it is?"
Ocellus nods. "I've seen one of these before. Remember that thing I used to stop the spraying fire? Just after I found you?"
"How could I forget?"
"This sprays a faster-drying stream of the same... goo." Ocellus turns the odd weapon over in her hooves, examining the clear tank. The transparent material isn't glass. The tank is dented slightly -- not cracked -- from hitting the Nightmare Moon in the head. The cylinder is half-full of glowing green queen spittle, a barrier similar to the surface of the orbs keeping the liquid under high pressure.
Gallus considers that, holding out a talon. "So a drone armed with one of these could take down multiple creatures with a wave of the nozzle?"
Ocellus doesn't answer. It isn't really a question. The griffon is just working things through aloud. Finally, he concludes, "What I'm looking at is a changeling weapon of war."
The changeling looks at her friend. That is an odd tone for Gallus. But the griffin sets her mind at ease with an off-talon explanation.
"Some of my homework made me look at the griffin weapons from before King Grover."
Ocellus nods, understanding all too well how a class assignment can seep into extracurricular activities. And Gallus' observation is certainly not wrong. This could incapacitate multiple... prey. Leaving them ready for feeding.
She turns the changeling "weapon of war" around, her ocelli tracing over the hose and nozzle. The changeling nymph frowns as she gives the trigger switch a closer look. It is small, sharp and hook-like, looking difficult to manage with a hoof. And the trigger is built far enough back from the nozzle that it would take a separate hoof to trigger while aiming... but that wasn't how the drone who attacked her was using it.
"That... would be really scary if she could make her sick-up in bulk," Gallus adds.
Ocellus scowls up at him. "It's an oral secretion, not sick-up." A pause. "And she can."
"I retract my lack of terror."
Ocellus points towards the three onyx pillars. "Those artifacts are all over Nightmare Moon's Palace. And if they can make anything out of dark essence so long as they have a plan, I imagine they can also do so with a sample."
Gallus falls back to his haunches. "At what point does this stop getting worse?"
Ocellus holds the hose, trying to figure out how the drone was using it. Realization dawns on her with the taste of ashes.
"Here," she says, holding the royal jelly sprayer out to Gallus. "You'll be able to aim and fire this with your talons much better than I can with my hooves."
Gallus blinks, not taking it. "Okay, I'll bite. Why would Queen Elytra make her weapon easier for griffons to use than her own drones?"
Ocellus sighs. "She didn't. It's meant to be fired by flexing their foreleg muscles. But I can't grip it the way they can because my forelegs don't have holes."
Gallus stares a moment longer, then takes the changeling weapon of war. "Hurrah," he deadpans, "I get the vomit cannon."
Ocellus whines slightly. "Can we not call it that?"
The room is pitch black.
Faint blue light pours in from the arched doorway as the door creaks slowly open. Ocellus and Gallus peek their heads into the opening.
The griffon whispers, "Changelings can't just become darkness, right?" The nymph shoots him a look, growling slightly.
"I'm going to shoot it," Gallus decides.
"Shoot what?" Ocellus asks. "The darkness?"
Fwoo-splurch.
A few goblets of glowing lime arch through the air. One impacts a chair, tipping it backwards as the jelly washes over it, hardening into resin before the chair's back can hit the floor. The others splatter against wooden barrels that line slate shelves.
The illumination reveals walls of barrels, a table with a few goblets and a candelabra, several urns on the floor, and a stone archway with stairs leading down. The palace buttery.
With a flash of green, one of the goblets transforms into a black carapaced drone.
Fwooo-shplurk.
Gallus gives no chance to attack before encasing the drone in bioluminescent resin. "I'm about ready to start shooting every goblet I see, just to be safe."
Ocellus can't blame him, but worries about the limited jelly in the tank. She moves in cautiously, her body shivering. The freezing cold bites at her ears and gnaws painfully on her membranes. Any drink in the barrels must be frozen solid. Her teeth chatter.
The stairs down will take them into the dungeon's wing. Despite the descent, Ocellus knows the buttery is one of the only rooms in Nightmare Moon's Palace that is actually underground. Instead, the stairs trace the moon's uneven surface which falls away into a shallow valley on the back side of the palace.
Thunk!
Ocellus jumps, spinning as two more bangs sound behind her. Her heart hammers; her breath is caught in her throat. She sees Gallus picking up the remaining goblets and beating them a few times on the table.
Relief makes her legs wobbly. Gallus finishes, then pulls out his own notepad, ink and quill. After a few scribbles, he sticks identical notes to each of the goblets:
Not a changeling.
Ocellus huffs. Really? Puffing her cheeks, she whispers harshly, "You do know we can change into notes too, right?"
Gallus freezes. Then swiftly caps the inkwell and puts the notepad, ink and quill away.
Ocellus lets out a longsuffering breath. "Come on," she huffs again, waving for Gallus to follow as she moves towards the stairwell.
As Gallus follows, a small smile forms on his beak. "Does that mean you could literally be my homework?"
Ocellus groans.
"I'm not asking to cheat," Gallus persists. "I just think Professor Pie would get a kick out of that."
Ocellus begins down the curving stone steps. She has to admit, Gallus might be right about that. She carefully couches her words. "Okay. If we get home, I'll do it. Once." She hears Gallus ruffle his wings. "But in return, I want you to stop being even more paranoid than I am. I need you to keep me sane."
Gallus falls strangely silent again.
The silence draws out. Their descent takes them past a small, crescent-shaped window. Through it, she can see the stars. And floating among them, home.
Gallus swallows. "Okay."
They reach the bottom of the stairs. The hallway beyond is a disaster.
The ceiling tiles have collapsed, leaving dangling vines everywhere. Walls are cracked. Pillars have crumbled. The far end of the hallway is illuminated by fire -- patches of orange flame consuming furniture and climbing the walls. Halfway to them, the hallway floor has collapsed into the rooms below.
"Moonquake?" Gallus offers.
"That hit only this wing?" Ocellus questions. She is staring at the fires. Their warm light is a stark contrast to the purple carpeting, sapphire columns and cornflower walls. They are the first flames she has seen here that aren't blue.
Gallus watches from a safe distance as Ocellus pulls open the pair of stained-glass doors. After having inspected the frames from back where Gallus is sitting. She doesn't blame him. She really doesn't. But the prickly feet of agitation are crawling up the back of her brain.
She wishes the feeling would go away. She's being unfair. She's feeling paranoid too. And she's not sure it even is paranoia anymore. Just fear.
The doors swing apart to reveal a long maze of shelves filled with bottles of wine. Many shelves are tipped or toppled. Over half the bottles are broken. Sharp glass and frozen liquid cover most of the floor. Fortunately, both she and Gallus can fly.
The remaining bottles hold dark liquid, except for a few scattered ones that glow with an inviting yet alien cerulean light. Ocellus' thoughts return to Professor Rarity's wine tasting class, and she wonders how these wines taste. She's smart enough not to test them.
Gallus flies in behind her, looking nervously at all the bottles. The broken shelves. He swivels the sprayer around, trying to be prepared for an attack from any direction.
The far corner of the room is charred black. Everything in an area the size of her dorm room is burned to charcoal. Some of it is still glowing a deep, angry crimson with specks of bright orange.
A bottle slips from one of the canted shelves, smashing to the floor.
Ocellus' heart skips a beat. Gallus knocks past her, beating his wings, backing away, nozzle pointed at the shattered bottle. Then he aims up at the shelf, as if expecting to find a cat pushing bottles off.
"Gallus..." Ocellus says with measured calm. "It's okay." This time. She remembers the candle in the creepy dining room. How much it scared her.
And that candle was a changeling.
The smashed bottle isn't. If it hadn't broken into shards, she might not be so certain.
Gallus lowers the nozzle, hovering. He lets out a breath. She can see it creating vapor in the frigid air. "Okay, I'm going to say something. I've been trying to figure out how to say it since before we got to the Throne Room, because I don't want to be offensive or say it the wrong way..."
Ocellus cringes inside. This is what she has been worried about. She knows what is coming. But she's pinned in the lights of it.
"...but you changelings are scary," Gallus admits. "Really scary."
He might as well have slashed her open with his claws!
"U-us changelings?" Ocellus squeaks. "Y-you mean like me and them?" She waves a hoof, trying to indicate the hive that has been attacking them. "I'm scary?!"
She doesn't want to hear this. She doesn't want Gallus to associate her with changelings like these. She doesn't want her friends to be afraid of her!
Gallus cringes. "No! Well, yeah. You're not like them, Ocellus. But you could be."
I could be a love-starved monster. Ocellus backs away from Gallus. The dream from the night before avalanches through her mind. Spreading her forelegs, trying to share. Trying to change. But she couldn't. No transformation. Just falling into darkness.
"You think..." Ocellus feels like she is dying. "Do you think I'm going to become one of them again??"
"No! Gah!" Gallus grimaces in frustration. He balls a talon to his face, clinching his eyes shut. "I'm saying this all wrong!"
"No," Ocellus says quietly, nearly whispering. "I think you're saying it right." Her voice is trembling. She feels like her chitin is being peeled off. She wants to run and hide. Bury herself in the rubble of this horrible place.
"No, I'm not!" he barks back. Gallus bites his beak shut, realizing he is shouting at her. The griffon takes a deep breath.
"Listen, I've never been scared of changelings before," Gallus tries again, each word dropping like an anvil. "When I thought of changelings, I didn't think of Chrysalis or black drones with holes in their legs. I thought of you. And I've never thought of you as scary. Heck, with your meditation and Feelings Forums and stuff, I thought of you all as harmless."
"Harmless," Ocellus repeats flatly.
Gallus' ears paste back. His tail curls about himself. "Yeah." He looks away, unable to meet her gaze. Everywhere else, all he sees is the ruined wine celler. "But this place is like a huge, horrible lesson."
"And now?" she asks timidly. Hating to. Needing to. Fearing the answer. She couldn't live with her friends thinking of her as a monster! It would be better not to have friends at all.
Ocellus feels the world drop out from under her. Numbness builds from the pit of her stomach, spreading through her body. She opens her receptors as wide as she can, horrified that she is tasting nothing.
Of course I'm tasting nothing! Ocellus scolds herself bitterly, trying to rein in her own panic. He's not feeling love right now. He's just scared.
A full-body shudder ripples through her. Her breath comes out shaky, creating little puffs of vapor in the air.
"I'm sorry," Gallus says. "But I'm not sure what I should be sorry for more. Letting this hive change how I see you. Or treating your hive as harmless because you don't show off just how fearsome and dangerous you can be."
He's scared. We're both just scared. Ocellus repeats the words like a mantra.
Like a revelation laced with poison, the mantra is broken with the thought: And he's right to be. We are scary.
Gallus looks down. Then flies a little farther into the room to find a place to land that is not covered in broken glass. He touches down on the edge of the scorched zone, then turns and looks up at her.
"Either way, I feel like I've been a crappy friend."
Ocellus stares, feeling gutted. She doesn't know what to say. Part of her wants to break down in tears. Part of her wants to scream at him. Part of her wants to hug him and tell him it is all okay.
It is not all okay. Nothing is all okay.
Gallus turns away from her, staring at the charred floor. His head is bowed. His tail drags through the soot.
This place is every nightmare she's ever had coming to life. More than anything, she just wants to scream.
Gallus walks away from her. Not far. Just enough to give her some distance from him.
Her desire to flee shatters. The void is filled with an overwhelming -- almost primitive -- need to grab this and fix it. To keep herself from losing her friendship.
Ocellus feels like nails are being hammered into her breast. She closes the distance. "G-Gallus?" Her voice is trembling. She has no idea what she is going to say.
Gallus doesn't look at her. He continues to stare down, picking at the burnt remains with a talon.
"G-Gallus, I..." Ocellus feels tears spilling from her eyes. Anger and hurt and loneliness mix into a soup of anguish.
Gallus picks something up off the blackened floor.
In a burst of anger, Ocellus shouts, "Gallus, look at me!"
The griffon turns to face her, silently holding up a scorched moonsilver needle. The bulb is empty.
Ocellus looks past him. The destruction spreads out from a center where the floor has been incinerated down into the marble. The core is shaped like the shadow of a drone.
Let's stick her! See what happens!
The nymph lands next to her friend, staring at the needle. She shudders.
Gallus' eyes are red. He too has been crying. But right now, sadness has been replaced with a look that says I think we're in trouble.
Ocellus nods. She pulls at a memory, finding it difficult. Like it is mired in syrup.
For the sake of my sanity, I'm going to assume that whatever our friend here doped herself with worked as advertised.
She doubts that now. Doubts it very much. The idea was beyond macabre. These drones were toying with raw power, stuffing it into their heads with no idea what it would do to them. It was playing with suicide!
Ocellus feels her hindlegs give out, the personal horror of her friend's fear mixing with an existential one.
For months, she's felt like she's somehow losing her grip on who she is, or has lost it entirely. And these drones are destroying who they are! Letting dark essence transform them into something else entirely, with no say in what they are becoming. Even kill them. Intentionally throwing themselves away!
Ocellus feels her body trembling. Her thoughts are collapsing into an abyss.
Gallus drops the needle and grabs her before she can start crying, burying her head into his chest feathers. His pungent dander assaults her nostrils. And the taste of boysenberries and salmon and sake permeates her receptors.
"I've got you, Ocellus. Let it out. I've got you."
Ocellus ducks under the toppled column that bisects the hallway. Piles of wreckage create narrows in the passage. The entire level above is rubble, crushing down on this one. The vaulting above sags between snapped ribbings where the ceiling hasn't already caved. Orange light flickers in a doorway ahead, the room on that side apparently ablaze.
More flames flicker at the end of the hallway. The double doors at the end are at odd angles, the frame cracked and pressing down. Even if they can reach the door into the dungeon itself, Ocellus isn't certain they can open it.
The entire wing groans ominously. Dust and bits of rubble rain down between splits in the arches above.
She looks back at Gallus. The griffon has stopped at the fallen column. Ocellus can see that between his saddlepack and the royal jelly thrower, he can't crawl under it. Her friend holds up one talon, signaling for her to wait as he examines the space between the column and the half-collapsed roof above, determining if he needs to take anything off, or if he can wiggle through.
She feels for him. The tight space will only be for a foreleg's length, but phobias don't care.
She considers turning into a bugbear and removing the column, but she doesn't want to frighten him. Which she knows is stupid. He's seen her as a bugbear plenty of times and never been frightened of her.
She turns her gaze forward again. The flickering orange light pouring from the open doorway ahead has grown brighter.
Ocellus wishes she could go back in time and undo the last... no, no she doesn't. Not when she thinks of how Gallus held her. How his love tastes. That love told her she has nothing to fear. She just needs to listen to it.
Much brighter.
Ocellus' brow furrows.
A changeling-shaped mass of flame steps out into the hall.
Her eyes widen and her thoughts crash. Instead of fear, the nymph is overcome with severe disorientation. I'm not seeing this.
The raging, changeling-shaped fire turns and stalks towards her, cackling deeply, its voice like a raging furnace. It leaves burning hoofprints in the stone floor. The air in the hallway is no longer freezing.
Ocellus begins to back up.
I am not seeing this!
Ruined tapestries ignite from the ambient heat as it draws near them. The air becomes dry, smelling scorched and brittle. The fire creature's cackling becomes a deep roar. Ocellus feels her ocelli dry and her membranes shrivel in the blast of furnace heat.
"Changelings can become fire?"
Ocellus hears Gallus scream the question as the monstrosity draws closer. Stunned, she turns to him, her voice rising in denial. "What? No! That..." she gasps, lungs scorching. "That's not even a thing! Fire isn't... fire's a reaction, not a..." She coughs painfully. "It's like running. You can run. You can't turn into running!"
Gallus aims over the top of the toppled column and unleashes a stream of lime jelly at the fire-thing. The jelly hisses, sizzling as it flies through the creature, unimpeded by anything solid. The hallway fills with the acrid, saccharine smell of cooked queen resin.
It isn't on fire. It IS fire!
Ocellus stammers, coughing again, ducking back under the fallen column. "But.... but... "
"I think it's time to go," Gallus insists, grabbing her.
It's not possible! Ocellus feels the world shift sickeningly sideways. She couldn't be seeing this! Where is its brain? How does it even think if its brain is fire?!
Ocellus feels Gallus scoop her up as the griffin takes to the air, flying away from the changeling-shaped mass of flame. She stares at the impossible creature as the floor falls away beneath her. Watches flames flare out in a mockery of wings and sees the living flame soar after them. Unattached to anything burning.
Ocellus has the overwhelming urge to lecture the reality-breaking vision in her best former-Headmare Twilight voice. "You're not possible!" Ocellus shouts at it in rising hysteria. "You are not scientifically possible!"
"It doesn't care!" Gallus retorts.
For the second time tonight, she clings to Gallus as he carries her. Under other circumstances, she would admire his strength and stamina. All the power of a lion and all the might of an eagle.
Gallus wings back through the wine cellar, dodging shelves filled with glass bottles.
With a powerful lion kick, he slams the stained glass doors shut as they shoot between them. The glass rattles and cracks, a few shards of colored glass falling to the ruined floor.
Ocellus feels herself arcing through the air in freefall as Gallus hurls her and spins around. She barely has time to brace before slamming face-first into the cushioned back of a couch. The impact knocks the couch over, sending her rolling off of it, coming to a stop against a pillar of onyx.
Gasping, she looks up and sees the face of the moon. With moonsilver forks. She's at the foot of another grandmare clock.
This one, she notes, isn't ticking.
Fwooo-shhhhhplk.
Ocellus pulls herself up, looking over the toppled sofa to see Gallus spraying resin down the split between the stained-glass doors. The room beyond is glowing brightly.
Smart, she thinks, physically but not emotionally sore at being tossed like her lantern.
Fire washes against the glass. But the fire abomination doesn't seem to have any strength. It can't crack the sealing resin. It cannot even break the glass.
"Get the cracks above and below too!" she calls out to him. If the... fire'ling has no mass, it might be able to go under the cracks.
Gallus nods, then turns to target a hole where one of the panes shattered. A vaguely hoof-shaped gout of flame is worming through. The normally fast-hardening resin dries on contact, blocking the hole.
Ocellus sits back, unable to do anything but watch and hope the sprayer doesn't run out of jelly before Gallus can finish.
"Ocellus!" The voice from behind her makes her jump. She spins, looking around. Then down at the shards of a shattered mirror.
"Luna!" Relief floods through her despite the mounting heat. She stares down at the eye of Luna looking back at her. "I was worried. Where did you go?"
"I am sorry. I felt something through the mirror. I was trying to investigate," Luna says. "I did..."
And she is gone. If a full hall stand mirror cannot sustain her long, it is probably a miracle Luna was able to talk to her at all.
The room is blazing with light now. She hears the sprayer sputtering. Gallus backs up to her, sweating profusely in the mounting heat.
"It's out," he says, and for a moment she fears he means the fire'ling. But she sees the sprayer's tank is empty. Gallus pulls it off, tossing it to the floor.
But it could be useful later, Ocellus thinks. If they could get more of the enhanced, quick-hardening jelly. And figure out how to refill it. But they can't count on either, and Gallus' ability to move around in the palace has already been hampered once by carrying the extra bulk. She doesn't blame him.
Ocellus turns towards the doors, but the light coming through the glass is too bright to look at.
"I think it's trying to melt the glass!" Gallus looks to her in a panic. "Does stained glass melt?"
Oh yes. Yes it does. Ocellus nods.
"...lus! Take the door to your left!" Luna calls to her. "There should be an..."
Ocellus blinks. "Left!" She turns. There is no door. But there is a broken armoire. One door hangs off a single hinge, and through it she can see a hole through its back and the wall behind it big enough to climb through. "This way!"
"...ful. And watch out for... moonsharks..." The last word is muffled, reminding her of how Smolder will muffle her words when she is embarrassed about something.
"What did she say?" Gallus stammers as Ocellus runs for the armoire. She throws it open, clambering through, Gallus right behind her.
"I think we've given the fire'ling the slip." Gallus looks back around what's left of the corner. "But not for long. If we're going to really do this..."
Ocellus hovers before the massive door of carved purple stone. Intricate lacework of silver and adventurine create a mosaic of stellar imagery.
The shimmering magical lock hovers before it, suspended by ghostly chains. The indentation on its face matches the Seal in the changeling's hooves.
Physically, she feels ready. The room beyond the armoire was a bathroom. There was a horrifying stain on the far wall among a sea of broken tiles. A stain that churned and atrophied, manifesting another bat-pony specter.
"Nightmare Moon's version of a first aid kit?" Gallus had suggested as the roiling vapor healed them. "Because when you're ruler of eternal night, even your medical supplies should be subservient."
Ocellus agreed, not voicing her suspicion that with the decaying of the palace, something has gone disturbingly wrong.
Physically, she is ready. Mentally? Outside that door is the most absolute of deserts.
Ocellus pushes the Seal into place. The chains collapse from the lock with a loud, metallic SHUNK! The lock vanishes and the door swings open.
Ocellus quickly learns she was wrong about being ready. Luna had warned her the air was thinner, but she is still caught by surprise as opening an exterior door causes an outrush of air.
The changeling nymph is blown through the exitway, hurling into soft regolith and sliding to a stop several yards from the exterior steps.
Ocellus is thankful she managed to close her eyelids the instant before impact. Her eyes are spared being full of moondirt. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for her mouth.
The changeling nymph blasts a cough, expelling as much of the pale dirt from her mouth as she can. The inside of her muzzle feels textured in grit. The taste burrows into her tongue -- like a morbid offspring of ash and chalk.
She hears Gallus flapping his wings above her.
"Eh, are you okay?"
Ocellus coughs again. "I hate the moon."
Ocellus groans, rising from the regolith, coughing and spitting profusely. But even when she no longer feels the grit against her cheeks and tongue, or coating the roof of her mouth, she can't stop tasting it. She yearns to run back inside and find the fountain or the nearest functional sink.
"Not a huge fan myself. You don't think Luna was serious about moonsharks, do you?" Gallus asks, sliding oddly in the air before landing next to her. "I'm thinking we should walk, because flying is... weird."
The moon doesn't look any more hospitable from the outside. But the windows had shielded them from the smell. She doesn't even have a reference for it. The closest words she can conjure to describe it are chalky, bitter and most of all spent.
Ocellus looks around. The palace itself is beautiful, rising up against the black of space. Dark, regal spires topped with crowns of arctic blue rise above walls of lavender and plum, reinforced with graceful flying buttresses. The topmost spire's crown weaves sensuously upwards to a bright crescent moon that shines like the beacon of a lighthouse.
"She's already on the moon," Gallus notes dryly. "Isn't that redundant?"
Ocellus bites back the urge to praise him for the proper use of "redundant". Even as Nightmare Moon, Luna really was an artist. Idly, she wonders why Luna hasn't spent more time with Professor Rarity.
Ocellus turns and looks at the post-apocalyptic wreckage of the back wing.
"I don't want to risk it," she says, spreading her elytra and beating her wings. And beating them harder. And harder.
Ocellus is panting as she finally lifts off the regolith. She feels much lighter, but there isn't as much air to push against. Once she gets moving, she finds it difficult to change direction. Flying on the moon reminds her of the time Professor Pie took them ice skating. Like the air is slick.
After several minutes of overcorrecting, the nymph finally gets herself moving in the right direction. The wing ends in the dungeon, the upper floors of which form a grand, domed colosseum.
Or it did. Even from here, she can see there is almost nothing left of the dome. What surprises her is that the debris is scattered outwards across the regolith.
"This wasn't a moonquake," Gallus calls up to her, noticing the same. "More like an explosion."
She looks down to see Gallus has given up flying. The griffon flew only high enough to land on top of the nearest broken buttress. As she watches, he leaps from one high point to the next, keeping well above the surface of the moon. Gallus makes jumping look a lot easier than flying.
As they reach the collapsed colosseum that forms the upper reaches of the dungeon, the cause of the destruction becomes apparent.
"That's not a moonshark," Gallus says needlessly. "That's a dragon."
Ocellus pulls up short. Well, she tries to. The slippery air doesn't cooperate, and she finds herself arcing towards the towering shape of the dragon. The creature is at least thirty feet tall. Ocellus once accompanied Smolder on a visit to the Dragon Lands; she has seen full-grown dragons before. And while no (ex) Dragon Lord Torch, this one is big even by adult standards.
The dragon raises her head, blotting out part of the sky, and ROARS. The moon seems to shake with her might.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ocellus sees something moving through the regolith. An enormous shape -- although enormous has suddenly become very relative -- glides beneath the surface, ash-grey fins coursing through the moondirt.
The dragon turns her massive head towards the movement. A huge fist comes down, claws digging into the moon's surface and pulling something out.
That must be what Gallus looks like fishing, Ocellus thinks wildly. But what the dragon has torn from the moon is no fish. Nightmare Moon clearly designed her moonsharks based on quarry eels!
Ocellus flaps her wings, slowing but not stopping. The weak gravity of the moon is pulling her downward. She realizes she is going to land in the colosseum. With the dragon.
The dragon opens her maw, showing rows of deadly teeth. And breathes. A geyser of flame cooks the gray and black moon-cousin of the quarry eel.
In the light of the fire, Ocellus can make out the rich, fiery scales of the dragon. The deep purple of her spines. The beautiful buttery yellow of her horns.
"Sm-Smolder?"
Ocellus' ears fold back flat against her skull. She knows what she is seeing. Smolder once told her about the magical malady that dragons can suffer if they allow themselves to become too greedy.
The anti-Elements resonate with their vices. They draw creatures vulnerable to them.
Smolder turns towards her, the dragon's eyes burning with fearsome and unnatural golden light.
"A runaway train is bearing down on five people who are tied to the track. You can cause the train to switch tracks, but there is one person tied to the second track."
Ocellus stops trying to control her flight, staring up at the terrifying behemoth that her friend has become. Her receptors are open wide.
"Who actually puts a gigantic dragon in a dungeon?" Gallus quips, catching up. "This isn't Ogres & Oubliettes! And dragons aren't monsters. One of..."
"It's Smolder!" Ocellus whimpers, her voice barely audible.
Smolder turns towards the changeling, the dragon's snout four times her size. Her eyes glow a hungry gold. She opens her mouth, showing teeth as big as Ocellus' head, and declares:
"MINE!"
Regardless of her feelings towards her dear friend, Ocellus knows with electric clarity that she doesn't want to be Smolders' in whatever sense that meant for her afflicted roommate right now. There is no love coming from the dragon at all.
The sense of nothing seeps into her like poison, slowing her down, stealing her breath. With a flurry of wingbeats, Ocellus begins moving sluggishly upwards, the thin air mocking her effort to change direction. Smolder's claws swipe towards her and she tries in vain to dodge. The colossal dragon snatches Ocellus out of the air.
For a moment, Ocellus feels herself compressed between claws and palm, completely engulfed. Smolder's scales radiate with the furnace inside her, not enough to burn but enough to make breathing difficult.
A tidal wave of nausea hits Ocellus as Smolder swings her arm around and downward. The heat of the dragon's grip abruptly gives way to the freezing cold. Ocellus curls up, folding her wings defensively under her elytra, a breath before hitting the floor. Hard. Pain explodes through her left shoulder as she bounces. Once. Twice. Then thumps to a stop against a cracked wall.
Ocellus uncurls, eyes opening. The thoughts Smolder just attacked me! and I'm alive! compete for dominance in her mind. Alive wins; she absolutely would not have survived if Smolder had intended to kill her.
The changeling nymph looks up, taking in the small room and the doorway -- Smolder tossed her into one of the dungeon cells that circle the central arena of the colosseum. One whose cell door lies among the debris.
Ocellus gets up, her elytra parting to allow her to spread her wings.
Smolder slams a portcullis -- torn from another part of the building -- over the exit.
Ocellus stares. Smolder just caged her. Like a pet songbird.
She rushes to the gate, her mind conjuring half a dozen forms that can get her through the bars. The fact Smolder thinks this can hold her exposes how impaired her roommate is. Smolder told her this draconic malady is not like growing up, but she failed to convey its regressiveness.
Golden light shines down through the portcullis, illuminating Ocellus in gridwork of shadows. Smolder is watching.
"Hate to say it, Smolder," shouts the voice of Gallus, "But you're pretty much redefining 'possessive girlfriend' right now. Not cool!"
The griffon jumps from the ragged edge of the dome, spreading his wings as he soars past Smolder's eyes, catching the enormous dragon's attention.
Ocellus jolts like twittermites zapped her. What did Gallus just say? The lovebug sputters haplessly. "Wha-?! We're not...! Gallus, she's not..." Ocellus' protest crashes as Gallus just rolls his eyes, angling his wings and giving two hard flaps to turn.
Ocellus briefly ignores just how much better Gallus is handling moon flight. Time has stopped and she is locked in place. Why is he rolling his eyes?!?
Smolder glares at the griffon flying around her like an insect. The dragon's expression changes, eyes widening, her mouth pulling into a predatory grin.
"DINNER!"
Gallus squawks, "whut?"
The dragons roars, the sound battering the broken walls of the dungeon colosseum. Debris falls as the structure threatens to further collapse.
"SMOLDER HUNGRY!"
Ocellus's attention snaps back to the metal grid of the portcullis. She briefly considers taking the form of a cockatrice again. It would be a tight squeeze, but turning Smolder to stone might...
Might what? She couldn't leave Smolder like that. And Smolder would still be afflicted when Ocellus un-stoned her. At best, it would give them a moment to catch their breath and try to figure out how to save their friend. Ocellus cannot -- will not -- leave Smolder like this.
Gallus swoops back around, flying across Smolder's belly. Smolder grabs at him, her claws swiping the air so close behind the griffon that Gallus is able to somersault and land on one of Smolder's claws.
Gallus stares up into the angry, hungry face of his friend, his eyes widening and his pupils dilating until they are almost lost in seas of white. "Uh... this might be a bad time to ask, but we're looking for this gemstone..."
Gallus jumps away as Smolder claps the claw hard enough to sting. Crazily, Ocellus' mind flashes to Pharynx telling stories about how he would get his brother, now King Thorax, to hit himself.
Smolder roars in frustration.
Ocellus sees a large chunk of the remaining dome tear away and collapse heavily into the dungeon below, smashing through two cells identical to hers, crushing them to rubble.
Ocellus concentrates. A turquoise flash. Bat-Ocellus flies between the bars, escaping her prison.
No wonder Luna favored bat-winged ponies, Ocellus thinks as she feels her (comparatively) larger and slower wings perform in the thin, frigid air. It is so much easier to fly on the moon like this.
"It's about yay big, gold, glowing," Gallus persists, illustrating with his talons as he dodges another swipe. "Have you seen it?"
"Yes. Delicious!"
Ocellus squeaks. With a flash, she is a nymph again. "You ate it!?"
Gallus's face falls. "Oh crap."
Smolder grabs the charred mass of the dead moonshark and swings it at Gallus. The griffon flaps hard, the gigantic mega-eel brushing his tail before slamming into the remaining colosseum wall, pulverizing pillars. The entire wall crumbles apart under the impact. Architectural debris, including the last chunk of dome, avalanche down, pounding into the dungeon below.
Ocellus changes into a rock as a hunk of column twice her size hurls towards her. The impact sends her flying into the wreckage of the colosseum entrance. Rock-Ocellus slams into a damaged, canted column with enough force to break every bone or shatter every plate of chitin she would have in any other form.
Ocellus slides down onto a marble floor cracked and dusted with regolith. Turquoise flame spirals about her, and Ocellus is a nymph again, her ears ringing.
"I think we know what happened to the palace's back wing!" Gallus calls out, leaping out of the colosseum. "Smolder did! I can't believe she ate Greed!" The griffon lands on the freestanding ruin of a flying buttress. "What do we do now?"
Ocellus looks around. To either side is rubble and wreckage. A few dungeon cells still ring the nearly demolished arena. Behind her, little more than the canted azure pillar remains of the pointed arch that once framed the entrance into the dungeon colosseum. The hallway beyond has collapsed in, although there are a few holes that might be big enough to crawl through.
Ocellus spots something hidden in the fluting of the column, tucked behind the sculptural bat that holds the scroll of the capital.
"YOU DESSERT!"
Smolder swings the dead moonshark again. Gallus leaps back into the colosseum as the body of the mega-eel demolishes the buttress. Smolder turns back towards him, opening her jaw, dragonfire crackling in her gullet.
Gallus stares up. "Oh fuck me!"
A comet of turquoise slams Gallus out of the way as dragonfire blasts the arena floor, spreading across it and engulfing several cells.
The two friends slam into the barred door of a remaining cell hard enough that Ocellus hears one of the griffon's ribs crack. Ocellus stumbles away, dazed. Gallus is a heap at the base of the cell door, but at least he is alive and not cooked. Her ears perk up as she hears Gallus moan, thankful she didn't knock him unconscious like she did those drones who pretended to be doors.
Gallus pushes himself up, groaning. "When Smolder told me about Greed Induced Bigness, I thought she was just making it up!"
Smolder turns, trying to spot where her prey has gone.
Ocellus opens her mouth, meaning to ask Gallus if he is okay. Instead, what comes out is, "Gallus! You swore!"
Gallus turns to stare at her. "... Seriously!? An overgrown, magically-influenced friend is trying to eat me and that's the concern here?"
He's right. They are in a life-and-death fight with her dearest friend, and a voice in her head is telling her that she's worrying about All the Wrong Things!
The golden light cascading from Smolder's eyes pins them. Ocellus again focuses on her receptors, trying to find love. For her. For Gallus. But there is nothing that she can taste coming from Smolder. Not even lust.
Somehow, that makes her feel far, far worse than the fact they are fighting their friend. That poison bites deeper.
"OCELLUS! MINE! STAY!"
The dragon points to another cell with one of her huge claws.
The griffon cringes back, wheezing. Smolder turns her hungry attention to him.
Ocellus grabs Gallus. "Hold on!" She feels the griffon wrap his arms around her. This time, she will carry him to safety. Ocellus transforms.
For the second time today -- for the second time ever -- she becomes a hippogriff. This time, she knows, it is a purely utilitarian transformation. She needs the larger size and non-insectoid wings. Gripping Gallus in both arms, she beats those wings, propelling herself back the way she came.
She hears Smolder's fist smash down, cracking stonework and mangling the cell door.
Wait. Ocellus thinks as she pours on the speed. The oddness of her mental acknowledgement is sinking in. It wasn't purely utilitarian before? Then why did I?
Ocellus reaches the canted azure pillar that once helped frame the entrance. She sets Gallus down in the hallway just beyond. "This way!"
Gallus starts forward then stops. "This is a dead end. Emphasis on dead." His eyes latch on one of the holes in the rubble, and he visibly withers at the thought of squeezing through it. "Oh come on."
Backing away from the griffon with a flap of her wings, Hippogriff-Ocellus admits, "That's the backup plan." She flies to the pillar's capital.
Gallus turns in time to see her reach behind the capital's bat sculpture and press the moon-shaped button.
A barrier of pure void seals the entrance. The void spills through the broken arch like a knocked over cup of water. Like black blood.
Hippogriff-Ocellus ducks away as Smolder's claws strike the barrier, scraping over it soundlessly. The dragon roars in rage at the denial of her prey.
Ocellus lands, changing back to her natural form. "Okay, Smolder. Now that it's just you and the creature you don't want to eat, I need you to listen to me."
Her receptors are open. Ocellus hopes for the taste of love, but finds only a painful, gutting nothing. Intellectually, she knows Smolder's emotions have been completely consumed by greed. And greed isn't something she can taste. But emotionally, sensing nothing from Smolder towards her where there should be love feels like something is pulling out her insides, leaving her hollow. Threatening to paralyze her. It is painfully reminiscent of staring in the mirror and having no reflection. Like she is nothing.
Shaking, Ocellus closes her eyes. Her thoughts flicker back to the day Starlight and Thorax invaded the old hive. She remembers Queen Chrysalis boasting: "By replacing the most beloved figures in Equestria, my drones will be able to store all the love meant for them and return it here to me."
Twice since she woke up last morning, she tasted Smolder's love for her. She recalls that, uses that to remind herself of Smolder's true feelings -- she knows that is true; when it comes to love, you can't fool a changeling. She took some of that love -- not eaten but stored -- saved to be treasured. She summons the love she felt when they were alone in the Treehouse, wrapping herself with it to ward off the hollowness so it cannot paralyze her.
Ocellus opens her eyes, looking up at her gigantic, Greed-transformed friend. Tasting the love that Smolder should be feeling.
Smolder glares at Ocellus, the golden light of her eyes shining with a burst of absolute rage at being denied her dinner. She opens her mouth, a rising inferno lighting her hellishly from within.
"Smolder, stop! This isn't you!"
Smolder lets loose a horrendous roar, pouring out a holocaust of dragonfire. Ocellus is consumed in the raging torrent of draconic flame that consumes the entire area in a blinding conflagration.
The flames wash away, and Ocellus is standing there -- not as Ocellus, but in the form of her Smolder.
"This is the real you!" Smolder-Ocellus insists, staring up, arms out wide.
Again, she feels Smolder's claws close around her. Her afflicted friend snatches up Smolder-Ocellus, shaking her hard enough to threaten whiplash, then brings the tiny vision of herself up to her face
"NO!! CHANGE BACK! WANT OCELLUS!"
Back at the Treehouse, Ocellus worried about whether Smolder's feelings for her were for herself or her dragon form. Those worries are burned away by the tone in Smolder's voice. Ocellus changes back into Ocellus, releasing the bulwark of saved love and trying to sense anything from the Smolder staring at her. Her heart leaps as she tastes a splash of jalapeno -- the tiniest spark of love within the greed-obsessed Dragon.
"I'm sorry for this, Smolder."
The colosseum erupts in a flurry of tentacles.
Giant Squid-Ocellus wraps tentacles around the giant Smolder, binding her. Then Ocellus shoves a tentacle down her throat. Triggering her gag reflex...
Ocellus pulls her tentacle out, releasing Smolder. She falls away, hitting the floor as she turns into Ocellus again. She is screaming, her arm burning with acid. She rolls out of the way as the giant dragon throws up everything in her stomach. Including the pieces of Greed. Glowing chunks of golden gemstone splash to the broken marble floor in a gush of acidic vomit.
Ocellus holds her arm out, trying to fight back the agony. A shadow passes over her as Gallus arrives. He uses a tapestry torn from the wall to try to wipe away the acid. She notices his occasional flinch of pain. Neither is focused on the giant dragon shrinking back to the familiar size and shape of their friend.
Smolder curls up on the floor, making unhappy dragon noises.
"Ocellus, that was stupid and crazy!" Gallus scolds, trying to save her leg. "Also, cool."
Ocellus smiles weakly, tears running down her cheeks. "You said Greed-Induced Bigness. I thought: get rid of the Greed, get rid of the bigness."
They both look over as they hear Smolder's weak voice. "...smart thinking..."
Ocellus winces as both Smolder and Gallus tend to her.
"Ocellus! Your leg! I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry!" The dragon is flooding the air between them with love-laced worry, guilt and horror.
Ocellus winces and beams Smolder the best smile she can. "Chitin doesn't... dissolve... easily.... owowowow!"
Gallus gives her a flat look. "Dragon stomach acid's made to digest gemstones. You're lucky you didn't lose your leg!" He stops as he sees the devastated look on Smolder's face. "Right. Not helping. Sorry."
"D-Don't worry. I'll be okay. We just need to get back to the ghost-medical-wallpaper-thing." Ocellus cringes, really needing a better name for that. But she sees the relief on Gallus' face and the look of hope in Smolder's eyes.
"Y-yeah. Right." Gallus' voice grows confident. "That's not too far. Especially if we can cut back through the hallway. You get to ride on my back. I'm not carrying the vomit cannon anymore."
Smolder gives Gallus a bewildered and somewhat hurt look.
"He doesn't mean you," Ocellus quickly tells her. "We'll explain on the way." She turns to Gallus, her voice soaked in concern. "Are you sure? Your rib..."
"Cracked. Not broken," Gallus insists. "I can carry you. Just lay side-saddle to keep from kicking it."
The nymph winces and quickly tries to change the topic. "How did you get out?"
Gallus scoffs. "How did I get out of the half-collapsed hallway full of holes, sealed by an unstable barrier you used to take me out of the fight?" His tone suggests she shouldn't be asking. "Thank you for the save, by the way."
Ocellus gets shakily to three legs, not wanting to put pressure on the acid-burned foreleg.
The griffon turns towards the massive, steaming pool of draconic sick-up. "Sooo, is that game-over then? With Greed chewed to bits, nobody can open the portal. To get home or to destroy it..."
Gallus' voice trails off, his eyes widening as the bits of Greed slide together through the sick and reform into the anti-Element in a flash of golden light.
"Or not. Because of course it does that."
The changeling looks at the golden gemstone, cut in the semi-circle shape of a half moon. "...ugh." Ocellus sighs heavily. "Back to it then."
Smolder looks between the two of them, catching on. "So... who picks it up?"
The three look at each other.
Smolder and Gallus immediately call out, "Not it!"
With another heavy sigh, Ocellus pulls off her saddlebags and hobbles over to the vomit lake. She opens the bag that Envy is in, picking up the bag by her teeth and flying over the pool.
As Ocellus collects Greed, Smolder watches furtively. Gallus begins to explain their whole situation, or at least as much as they know. The young dragon swallows hard.
Smolder is staring at Ocellus with an unfathomable expression as she returns from her gross chore.
"So..." Smolder asks tentatively, tapping her index clawtips together.
Ocellus lands, wincing as her wounded leg briefly touches the floor. She looks up at Smolder and feels a pang in her heart at the vulnerable, frightened look in her dearest friend's eyes.
"Ocellus, did you just risk all of Equestria to save me?"
Ocellus frowns. The threat of Queen Elytra had been neutralized. She hadn't been thinking of it like that at all. But that's exactly what she had done. Still, she can't feel bad about the decision. She can hear the fear in Smolder's voice, but stronger is the love she feels and tastes coming from her dragon friend. Maybe it's horrible... should she feel horrible about it?
Ocellus turns and looks at Smolder. And smiles that little smile she knows the dragon likes seeing on her at tea parties. "Let's get going."
Would you sacrifice your friend to save a hundred strangers? If nothing else, she now knows the answer: NO. For better or worse.
They begin walking together. Back into the hallway as Gallus flies up and deactivates the void barrier. Back towards Nightmare Moon's Throne Room.
Gallus lands next to Ocellus, lowering himself for the changeling nymph to climb onto his back.
Ocellus stops. "Wait, is this the test?"
Gallus freezes. Smolder turns and looks at her questioningly.
"What test?" Gallus asks, a note of suspicion creeping into his voice.
It takes Smolder a moment to remember. "Wait, do you mean Rarity's test? The one Discord gave you the questions to?"
Gallus blinks. "Discord did what?" he asks flatly.
"Why would you think that?" Smolder asks. "I really don't think Professor Rarity would create a test that puts us in harm's way. That would be completely unlike her." The dragon frowns. "Really, is there something about any of this that is anything like that test?"
Ocellus thinks about the three questions. Four, part of her mind whispers, but you're blocking out the last one because it hurts.
"A little," she admits. "Yes."
Smolder shakes her head. "That's probably a coincidence. Our professors just wouldn't do this."
Gallus nods in agreement, but his expression is sour. "They wouldn't. But we know something that would."
Ocellus looks from Gallus to Smolder, knowing her griffon friend is thinking of the Tree of Harmony's test again. But the burning pain in her leg decries that. Yes, they were at the Treehouse, but... "The Treehouse is a safe place for us. That is what the Tree made it to be."
And this is the opposite of safe.
"Yeah, I'm with Ocellus," Smolder says. "The Tree is all about friendship. It wouldn't poison me against my friends. That's more Cozy Glow's schtick."
Ocellus breaths with relief. She can see Gallus relaxing too.
"But..." Smolder says, bringing the tension back, "There is someone else who might." She looks at Ocellus. "We didn't get that test from Rarity."
Ocellus feels like she is sinking. "You think... Discord is doing this to us? Even after everything, you think he'd still pull something like this?" The whole idea was disturbingly in line with Discord's past actions. But she believed those were actions he was trying to atone for, not repeat.
Smolder nods. "Remember that line about storming the palace? He knew where we were headed."
"It makes sense he would know," Gallus counters, "The Headmare and Counselor Trixie would have known where Luna was taking us."
Ocellus shakes her head. "I-I don't think Discord is doing this." Deep down, she knows she just needs to believe that Discord is truly making amends this time. But isn't that the kind of hope and kindness that the School of Friendship is about?
Smolder raises a claw to protest, but Ocellus cuts her off. "But I do think that Discord knew something was going to go wrong. I think... I think the test was him trying to help." She adds, "For a Discord definition of helping."
"Okay, we need to stop now," Gallus says, stepping between his friends. "I know I'm not the poster griffon for not being paranoid, but pretty soon we're going to start questioning reality, and that road leads to crazy. We're trapped in Nightmare Moon's Palace. Going crazy gets us killed."
Ocellus and Smolder both nod. Then, with an attempt at levity, Ocellus retorts, "We're not trapped in the palace." She holds up Nightmare Moon's Seal. "Technically, we're just trapped on the moon."
Trying to go back through the hallway is harder than they expected. Gallus repeatedly has to crawl through tight spaces, much to the griffon's dismay. And moving though those gaps forces Ocellus to use her acid-burned foreleg. They stop for long minutes after each effort, allowing Gallus to bleed off his anxiety and Ocellus to fight down the pain.
Smolder's expression becomes more and more morose every time.
"On the other talon," Gallus quips as they sit in the burned-out husk of what could have been a study after the third such crawl, "At least we aren't battling moonsharks."
Ocellus groans. Fighting Smolder was awful, and she would rather deal by not thinking about anything. Just forging ahead, saying nothing (or, if possible, less). But she can tell Gallus is even more shaken than she is, and is trying to relieve his stress through humor.
The griffon brushes soot from his wings and looks to Smolder. "Let me get this straight. Greed was like: Want me! Need me! And you were like: Sure, I'm peckish. Om nom nom?"
Smolder glares at Gallus, her face devoid of amusement.
Gallus turns to Ocellus. "Score one for the 'anti-Elements are not intelligent' theory. Or have the best survival instincts."
Smolder raises a claw, but Ocellus whispers, "It's probably better to let him get it out of his system."
Recovering, Gallus lowers himself again, letting Ocellus onto his back.
"I'm imagining a mommy dragon wagging her claw and saying: Now, now, Smolder. Eat all your anti-Elements. They'll help you grow big and strong."
Smolder huffs. "I hate you right now."
The dragon doesn't, and their friends both know it. Ocellus gives Smolder a sympathetic look as she climbs onto the griffon's back. "Do you want me to change into something lighter?"
Gallus shakes his head. "No, but next time we have to crawl, do yourself a favor and turn into a bat. Keep yourself off that leg."
"I could just turn into a bat now," she replies.
"Yeah," Smolder notes. "But then we couldn't talk to you."
"You're not doing much talking," Ocellus observes.
Smolder looks down, then back at her. "Yeah, but right now it's really nice to hear your voice."
The trio begins moving again, exiting the charred study. The fire-ravaged hall beyond looks vaguely familiar.
Gallus moves forward, eyeing everything. Almost all of it is burned. "I think this is where we encountered the fire'ling."
"The what?" Smolder asks.
Gallus looks back at her. "You would not believe some of the changelings we have encountered here. Even the normal ones..." Gallus shudders.
Ocellus suspects he is remembering stained-glass chainsaw teeth. Part of her wants to scold him (gently), but she feels her wings vibrate in sympathetic horror.
Gallus looks at Smolder. "If you ever thought of changelings as harmless..."
Smolder interrupts, stepping around in front of him with an incredulous expression. "Who in their right mind would think changelings are harmless?"
"Uh..."
Smolder's eyes widen as she realizes. Then narrow. "Do you think dragons are harmless?"
Gallus balks. "Of-of course not." He steps back, withering a little under Smolder's stare. He quickly pads his answer, "Dragons are mighty and fierce."
Then just as Smolder is looking mollified, he adds, "And I don't need one to swing the carcass of her kills at me to prove it."
Oh ouch.
Ocellus sees Smolder flinch back. "Um..."
But Smolder recovers faster than Ocellus can think of anything to say. "I deserved that." Her stare is back. "Gallus, are you aware that the first time I met a changeling, the very first thing she did was become a dragon?"
Ocellus blinks. Really? Oh. Oh that was me. That's not exactly how that happened. Except, I guess, it kind of is.
Gallus' face falls. He takes a moment to process that, then buries his face in his talons. "I am really just an idiot."
Smolder nods, then gives Ocellus a smile and a wink.
The trio pass beneath the toppled column, Ocellus transforming into a bat as her friend suggested. Without the royal jelly sprayer, Gallus has no trouble crawling under the column this time. Just beyond is the stained glass doors leading into the wine cellar -- the doors on the opposite side from the ones that Gallus sealed shut.
"Crap," Gallus says, remembering. "We might not be able to go this way. I sealed the doors on the other side of this room with changeling vomit."
"I'm going to hit you," Ocellus threatens emptily.
Smolder holds out a sharp claw and presses it against the stained glass. The young dragon cuts a circle in the glass and looks through.
Then pulls back, blinking. "Uh..."
"Any sign of the fire'ling?" Ocellus asks. She doubts it. They would see the light though the door.
"No... but..." Smolder backs up. "Look for yourself."
Gallus leans down, letting Ocellus slide off his back. The griffon takes a peak and pales visibly under his feathers. He backs slowly away from the door.
Ocellus moves to the cut circle and peers in. The far wall is largely gone. The far half of the room is ash and softly glowing embers. Between that and the near corner, only a quarter of the wine cellar retains any visage of the room's original purpose. There are only five unburned shelves of wine bottles remaining where the room originally had at least two dozen.
All the remaining bottles of wine now have notes attached to them. Scores of them. Each with perfectly duplicated script in Gallus' writing: Not a changeling.
Ocellus twitches. "Gallus!" she hisses, "I told you to stop doing that. How many of those notes did you make?" Even as she says it, she realizes he couldn't possibly have done this.
"Only the two."
Ocellus pales and backs away from the room. "Let's go back outside and around. We are not going into that room."
Smolder stares at the bat-winged smoke apparition that bubbled out from the decaying stain in the wallpaper. "This place is terrible. Why would Luna want to take us on a field trip here anyway?"
Ocellus sighs, feeling the burning hurt in her leg fade under the light of the spectre's eyes. "Maybe she was planning on taking us someplace else?" She didn't really believe that. But Luna couldn't remember planning the trip, so it was possible.
Smolder counts on her claws. "Multi-day field trip. Opening the portal at the Treehouse. That talk about how far we were going."
"Oh... yeah...," she gives up. "It was here."
Gallus shrugs, returning from the next room. "A field trip to the moon would be cool. What I don't get is why Luna wouldn't have checked the place out first to make sure it was safe."
Smolder offers, "After spending a thousand years here, maybe Luna just figured she knew everything there is to know about the moon?"
Ocellus frowns, not saying anything, mentally filing the conversation in her growing list of questions with insufficient answers.
Smolder blinks repeatedly at the spectre's words. Ocellus and Gallus pay it no attention. They've heard it before.
Gallus comments, "They call everyone that. Even me."
Smolder blinks, then snorts a laugh. "So that's why you insisted we leave the room while that... thing... played doctor with you."
Gallus doesn't deny it. "Knowing what it said is one thing, but letting you hear it call me that? I'd rather run around Nightmare Moon's Palace with a cracked rib. If Ocellus hadn't insisted I go first..."
"You carried me," Ocellus protests.
Smolder takes a step back as the spectre dissipates, the vapor dispersing too close to her for the dragon's comfort.
"Is everything in this place that creepy?" she asks.
"Yes," Gallus answers immediately.
Ocellus climbs back onto her hooves. She tests her leg, putting extra weight on it, smiling as she feels no pain or weakness.
Smolder watches, that morose look returning. Her eyes dart between Ocellus and Gallus before she finally lets it out. "Look... I'm really, really sorry..."
"No big," Gallus replies. "We're just glad you're all right."
"No big!? Gallus, I tried to eat you!"
Gallus glances away, and makes a dismissive twirl with one claw. "We live in Equestria. Who hasn't done something bizarre and out-of-character while under the influence of a magical artifact?"
Ocellus can tell it really is bothering him. But he's downplaying it. Not to put on a brave face or act tough, but because he thinks that's what Smolder needs right now. And Ocellus figures he is probably right. After what happened, Smolder probably really needs her friends to still be okay with her. She needs compassion and understanding.
Smolder turns to her. "Ocellus, I... I tried to hoard you. That's... that's so wrong."
Ocellus gives her friend a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Smolder. I understand."
Smolder seems taken aback. There is worry and a little resentment in her voice. "What? Because I'm a dragon? Dragons hoard?"
Ocellus shakes her head. "No. Because I hoard too."
Smolder blinks. Her voice grows soft. "What? ...really? ...what?"
Ocellus nods with a small smile. She slips up next to Smolder and whispers into the dragon's ear, "We make it through this, and I'll tell you at our next tea party."
Smolder blushes under her scales. "I'll hold you to that," she whispers back.
As Smolder and Ocellus are whispering, there is a soft, somehow cheap-sounding clack from behind them.
"Hey, Smolder!" Gallus calls out.
Smolder turns. Her eyes go wide as something softly smacks her right between them, bouncing off harmlessly with a squeaking sound.
"That's for trying to eat me."
Smolder blinks. She sees Gallus holding a pink and blue toy weapon. "...wut?"
Gallus grins smugly. "My class project for Professor Pie's Make Something Not Fun into Something Fun lesson. Crossbows are a griffon weapon from the time before King Grover." He shows off the toy. "I redesigned it to shoot sponge bolts. Make a bunch and give them to your friends and it's like a pillow fight at range!"
A smile slowly spreads across Smolder's face. "That's... that's really cool!"
Ocellus feels warmth spread through her as her friend regains her usual spirit.
The dragon flies over to Gallus, flapping about him as she inspects the crossbow."How'd you make it?"
Gallus gestures behind him with a thumb-talon. "Oh, there's a thing back in the next room that just makes stuff if you have a design for it."
Smolder lands, staring at him. Trying to figure out if she's being teased. "Seriously?"
Ocellus speaks up. "Kind of. Nightmare Moon made servants and things out of blue smoke-like essence using it." She explains, "If you dump in a bunch of dark essence and give it a design, the artifact will turn the essence into what you want."
The trio of friends begin moving again, now all of them traveling side-by-side.
With a frown, she adds, "The queen's drones have been using one to make needles filled with essence that they can inject themselves with to give them new powers."
Smolder is taken aback. "You're kidding."
Gallus backs Ocellus up. "Through their eye!"
Smolder shudders. "You're kidding!"
Ocellus and Gallus shake their heads, eliciting a wave of shudders all around.
Gallus says, "We're right there with you."
As they approach the hole in the wall that leads into the armoire, Ocellus notes, "There's one in the Throne Room. Luna gave me a design for modifying my saddlebag with a protective lining. That's how I'm able to carry the anti-Elements around without being overwhelmed by them."
Teenk. Tunk.
Smolder pauses. "Wait... there are several of these thing-makers? There was only one Nightmare Moon. Why did she need a bunch of them?"
"She was here for a thousand years," Gallus comments, climbing through first. "My bet: she got bored."
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus follows.
As Smolder climbs out of the armoire and into the next room, she stops to stare at the wall dividing the room from what's left of the wine cells. The glass of the doors is slag. The metal framework is twisted from extreme heat. The wall around it is reduced to charred kindling.
"Whoa," she whistles, impressed.
Teenk. Tunk.
Smolder turns to see her two friends transfixed by the clock. "Uh, are you guys okay?"
Gallus points. "The clock..."
Ocellus almost whispers, "...it's ticking."
Teenk. Tunk.
Smolder stares at them, confused. "Yeah. Pony clocks do that."
"So..." Smolder asks hesitantly, "How long...?"
"Not long," Gallus says before the orange dragon can finish. "I found Ocellus a few hours ago, I think. It's hard to tell time here. None of the clocks have faces."
Well, technically they do, Ocellus thinks. They're just blank.
After a dramatic pause, the griffon continues, "I think I woke up an hour or two before that. We've been gone less than a night."
Ocellus nods. She suspects Gallus pounced the question to keep her from mentioning the vines. Or maybe the duct he had to crawl through. Not that she would tell Smolder either without some sort of approval. It might be seen as poking fun, and that wouldn't be nice.
"So I didn't miss much?"
Gallus smirks, "You missed a supreme Ocellus freak-out earlier."
Ocellus shoots the blue griffin a look. Urge. To tell. Rising.
"It was at the fire'ling," Gallus continues with a smirk. "We encountered one of those changelings who had stuck itself in the eye, and it had become a creature of fire!"
Smolder stops. She looks back in the direction of the dungeon wing and the wine cellar, clearly remembering the wall. Her voice lowers, her tone oddly soft. "Like a phoenix?"
Ocellus sees the mirth on Gallus' face falter.
Their dragon friend has always been a bit strange about the magical firebirds. Ocellus remembers Smolder nervously asking Twilight if Celestia was going to bring her pet when the day alicorn decided to join the little play they put on. Spike intervened when Ocellus attempted to ask Smolder about it, pulling the nymph aside with a whispered "Ix-nay on the enix-fay!"
The warning only made Ocellus more worried about her friend. So with a sigh, Spike made her promise to say nothing in return for telling her a secret.
The horrible story Twilight's dragon told Ocellus drove her to cry much of that night. Yona had been a good friend and roommate, not prying but staying up with her and making yak-tea to help her feel better.
(Yak-tea, it turns out, is really good. Thankfully, Yona was enthusiastic to make more of the mix so Ocellus could brew some for herself later. Which Yona did without asking questions. Despite how terribly suspicious Ocellus knows she sounded while asking. Not to mention, the yak never asked Ocellus about how she liked the tea, or even mentioned it, while Smolder was in the same room.)
Spike insisted the tactically unnamed dragons in his story were all teenagers -- way older than Smolder would have been -- but it still left Ocellus with worrisome suspicions. Ones she couldn't really ask about without breaking her promise.
In her heart, she knows Smolder would never engage in such behavior. She was probably just embarrassed or ashamed of what some other dragons did. And if it was more?... well, she has ugly in her own past. And it was Smolder who showed her that they have truly changed.
Ocellus' mind returns to the present as Gallus waves his talons, insisting, "Oh, no no no. This thing was actually made of fire. Like, nothing but flames! We ran away. Ocellus was too busy yelling how it 'wasn't scientifically possible' to fight it."
Smolder gives a nasally snort of mirth.
Tension begins to ebb as the trio reaches the Grand Hall. No patrols of changelings this time. Gallus greets that with relief, but Ocellus views it with concern. Queen Elytra must be changing tactics. She wonders if this is related to what Luna tried to investigate.
Her friends return to their conversation once the way is judged clear. The discussion has turned to the anti-Elements, and from there to the concept of the vices that the stones represent. Just before reaching the Grand Hall, Ocellus mentioned that there were others, naming a few that Luna had told her about.
"Okay, some of those I get," Gallus says. "I mean, hatred is obvious. But lust? Since when is that a bad thing?"
Smolder nods in agreement. "Yeah, and wrath? That's just anger, right? Wasn't there a whole friendship lesson on how that's not inherently bad?"
Ocellus considers. "Well... I don't think vices have to be always bad. Virtues can become bad if taken to extremes. Like being honest in a way that's just mean. Or remember Fluttershy and the Breezies?"
Smolder nods, recalling the lesson. "Then what's the difference? I mean, I can imagine some righteous wrath."
Ocellus thinks on that. "Maybe it's that, unlike virtues, vices don't really have much positive to offer? I mean, changelings can eat all sorts of love: romantic, platonic, true love and even lust. But while lust is really tasty, it's not very nourishing. Like a super rich cake."
Gallus freezes. "Wait. Does that mean you can sense lust?" He stares at Ocellus. Then quickly looks absolutely anywhere else. "I really did not want to know that."
Ocellus finds herself smiling.
Two anti-Elements down. Two to go. The changeling nymph shoves down any thought of what she will do once they have the four stones and open the portal. Right now, she just wants to bask in the company of her friends.
"I'm generalizing when I say us, of course. I'm not a person. Not like you."
"No!" Smolder exclaims. "Just, no."
Gallus pinches the top of his beak, reining in an aggrieved expression as he stares at Ocellus. She can hear something approaching disgust in his tone. "Explain to me exactly why you have to go alone?!"
Ocellus takes a deep breath.
Smolder and Gallus are standing on either side of Nightmare Moon's throne, framed by the huge, ogee-arched window on the far end of the Throne Room and the moon's gray wasteland beyond.
They look angry.
"I just talked to Luna," Ocellus explains in the calmest voice she can summon. "The next anti-Element is Pride..."
Gallus and Smolder glare. Ocellus falls silent, realizing how that might have sounded. Did they think she was saying they are vulnerable to Pride? Did they think Luna thought they couldn't handle this one?
Ocellus waves a hoof as if that might banish the thoughts she was projecting onto them. "...and it's in the heart of the changeling queen's territory."
Her friends' eyes widen. Ocellus sighs again.
"That's what Luna was investigating while she was gone," she tells Gallus. "Queen Elytra has pulled most of her changelings back to the center of her hive."
"Explains why the trip back from the dungeon was uneventful," Gallus says, accepting that. With a wave of jazz-talons, he adds, "And here I was hoping the magic of friendship was keeping them away."
That earns him a smirk from Smolder. Ocellus is happy to see an expression other than crossness on the dragon's face. She knows that won't last.
"Which means I have to do what only I can do," Ocellus concludes. A thought flashes through her head, and she corrects herself. "And, I guess, Headmare Starlight."
Ocellus braces herself. Not so much for her friends' response, but because saying this will make it real. "I have to sneak into a changeling hive."
Her friends couldn't follow her because only she could transform herself into a love-starved changeling. The last thing she ever wanted to become again. Even just in disguise.
Smolder steps towards her, arms out to her sides. "No way! That is way too dangerous, Ocellus! I... we won't let you go alone."
Simultaneously, Gallus sits down. "Right. Alone then," he says, accepting what Ocellus just said without further argument. "But first, make another saddlebag like yours."
Smolder turns to stare at Gallus. "What?!"
Gallus raises his eyebrows. "She's right," he tells Smolder. "I don't like it, but Ocellus is right. We could never pass as changelings. And any other plan leads to a fight we would lose. But..."
Gallus turns to Ocellus, his voice uncompromising, "You're not walking into the queen's lair with exactly what she wants. Smolder and I will stay here with Greed and Envy." He thumps his chest feathers. "We'll guard them with our lives."
Smolder flies over and lands in front of Ocellus, putting on a big smile. "Hey, how about you pretend to be a drone and I'm your prisoner! And you're bringing me to the queen."
A bolt of fear shoots through Ocellus. "No!"
Gallus says dryly, "It won't work."
Smolder huffs. "Why not?"
"Because they're changelings," Gallus retorts. "They sense love, remember? You two go in there, and they'll sense how you feel about each other in an instant."
Ocellus nods as Gallus outlines the exact dimensions of her fear.
Smolder's eyes go wide again, taken aback, her body language showing a sense of betrayal. In another situation, that look would worry Ocellus, or provoke a protective anger. But the lovebug realizes immediately what it means... and she finds it kinda cute.
Gallus knows how Smolder feels about her because Smolder told him.
"Come on, Smolder," Gallus says, rolling his eyes. "Ocellus can literally taste how you feel about her. She probably knew before you did."
Ocellus smiles at Smolder.
Smolder's mouth hangs open but nothing comes out. She closes it, her eyes shifting left then right. Ocellus can see a blush rising behind the orange dragon's scales.
"As for Ocellus..." Gallus continues.
"huh, what?" Ocellus feels suddenly trapped. She looks to Gallus, but the griffon is still focused on Smolder.
"I just watched Ocellus risk Equestria, not to mention her leg, to save you," Gallus comments. "Safe bet she feels the same."
Smolder watches the etheric lights flash, pouring out blue smoke and tendrils of oily black. They fall upon Gallus' saddlepack, sinking in, weaving new substance into it.
"Can we take these home with us?" Smolder asks when the three onyx pillars are done.
"It only makes things out of dark essence," Ocellus tells her as the nymph pulls the saddlepack off the third capital.
Smolder's disappointed expression is short-lived. "I have a powerful urge to dismantle the entire palace and turn it into gemstones," she says with a grin.
Gallus, who was examining the painting of Nightmare Moon's seal, looks up with alarm.
Smolder notes quickly, "That's not Greed. That's just normal dragon."
Ocellus gives Smolder a smile then flies over to Gallus, delivering his saddlepack and fetching her own. Gallus holds his pack open while she dumps the two anti-Elements into it.
Gallus puts his talons on her shoulders. "Good luck. Don't do anything stupid. Stay safe."
Ocellus awws, "But I wanted to challenge the queen to a duel."
Gallus blinks, then shakes his head, chuckling. "Right. Crossword puzzles at twenty paces?"
"I'll get all the vertical before she can get the horizontal!" Ocellus declares happily. This is good. Her friends are leaving her in high spirits before facing what she has to do next.
Ocellus waves to both of them. "I'll be back soon. Then, we get Wrath together."
With that, Ocellus leaves the protection of the Throne Room, leaving her friends behind.
This time, the way she must go does not take her back to the Grand Hall, but rather farther down the hallways beyond the Throne Room. She walks a while, checking behind her just to make sure neither of her friends are following. She opens her receptors, tasting for traces of love in the cold air. There are none.
Ocellus finds a secluded place to transform. She does not want her friends to ever see her as a love-starved drone.
This is just a disguise, she reminds herself as she closes her eyes to concentrate. Just a form, no different from any other. She's not love-starved anymore. Far from it. The hardest part will be pretending to be so. She'll have to school herself not to think about Smolder, not to think about any of her friends, so her feelings won't betray her.
There are enough depressing things to think about that keeping love sealed away shouldn't be hard. She considers thinking about being trapped here on the moon after destroying the portal, living in this place alone after she gets Gallus and Smolder safely home.
Ocellus thumps herself on the forehead. She can't think about that. The thoughts of loneliness and despair are intrinsically tied to the loss of those she loves. She cannot think about no longer having them without thinking about them.
Gallus. Smolder.
This plan has a huge flaw.
Gallus was sent to the room with Envy. Smolder found herself near Greed. If one of her friends is here and has appeared near Pride, her ruse is going to fail the moment they meet. But she cannot worry about that right now. That's a problem for future Ocellus.
A flash of turquoise.
She doesn't want a mirror. She doesn't want to look down at her own hooves. But she has to.
They are black. She sees the floor through the holes in her forelegs. Short, drone-length forelegs, not those of a queen. The transformation worked. The part of her that doesn't want to just die is thankful.
She spreads her ragged wings and flies, hating the droning buzz of her own wings. Already, she can feel her hatred towards the sound racing against her need to get through this as fast as possible.
She darts ahead down empty hallways where the wall sconces have been replaced by wrought-iron, standing torches. Some of them ignite with familiar blue flame as she approaches. Most do not, leaving the passageway darker and gloomier than most others.
The other part of this disguise will be pretending to be a drone -- a non-individual.
That shouldn't be too hard, Ocellus thinks painfully. When was the last time I really felt like an individual?
It is a terrible thought. She shoves it aside.
Instead, Ocellus wonders about Gallus' question. Why doesn't the changeling queen just have her drones collect the anti-Elements and open the portal herself?
They literally have Pride right there in the hive... but then, how would a drone resonate with Pride?
Ocellus thinks back to her days under Queen Chrysalis. At best, they had communal pride, pride in the hive. But without individuality, they had no pride of their own.
I had no personal self-worth. If I had tried to use Pride back then, what would have happened? Ocellus recalls how Gallus was driven away from Envy by the way it made him feel. Envy and Greed augmented her friends' resonant vices. Would it have even recognized me as a creature?
It strikes Ocellus that maybe changeling drones simply cannot use Pride. It might even reject them. The same wouldn't be true for Greed and Envy, but if the changeling queen doesn't really know what the anti-Elements are, she might be operating under the assumption that changeling drones couldn't utilize any of them.
That would explain a lot. She makes a few notes in her mental notebook Unanswered Questions.
Ocellus finds herself forming a very different concept of Queen Elytra than she had before. Queen Elytra is clearly very clever. Even ingenious. But she also seems to be impulsive. And in that, she is very much unlike Chrysalis.
Queen Chrysalis was patient and methodical. She made sure every one of her pieces was in place before she made a move. She compromised her enemies before they even knew she existed. And she always had an end game.
Queen Elytra, on the other hoof, strikes Ocellus as an opportunist. When Luna started to open the moon portal, Elytra somehow sensed a chance and jumped at it. The fact she expected Ocellus to appear near Wrath tells the nymph that Queen Elytra had no idea who she would be getting with her spell. She may not have even known exactly what the spell would do. And she clearly isn't prepared to capitalize on the result.
Ocellus realizes she and her friends are an experiment of opportunity.
She pauses at a crosshall, checking her map. In theory, at this point every direction should lead either into the hive or back towards the Throne room.
A chalky stink hangs in the air like old smoke. And beneath it is the faint stench of the hive. The scent of changeling pods and royal jelly. The smell used to make her feel at home. One with the others, safe in the nest. Now it flenses her nostrils raw and electrifies the instinct to run. To fly away as fast as she can.
The walls are covered in peeling, rotting, spider-print wallpaper. Hall benches and sideboards are succumbing to ashen mold. Ocellus suspects the hive has somehow agitated the slow decay of Nightmare Moon's Palace. The changeling pods throughout a hive's architecture may add a component of moisture to the mix that is absent elsewhere.
According to her map, the crosshall shouldn't be here. Ocellus frowns at that. She thinks back to her own hive... No! She cannot call it that; must not think of it like that. Her first hive. Queen Chrysalis' hive. She is no longer like that, no matter how she looks right now.
Queen Chrysalis' hive was metamorphic. The architecture would shift, holes growing to open new passages, closing to seal others. Bridges and ramps forming and dissolving. Making the hive impossible to navigate for anyone without changeling senses. Even Thorax got lost after having been away, the taste markers having changed.
Ocellus opens her receptors, straining to use part of her palate that has atrophied from neglect.
But this hive isn't changeling built. Would the queen's magic even have the same effect on pony architecture of marble, metal and glass? Then again, Nightmare Moon's Palace isn't really made of any of those things, is it? It is made of dark essence pretending to be those things, taking on their forms just like a changeling pretends to be other creatures. Or objects.
Ocellus shivers. She concentrates, but tastes nothing. Neither love nor... the one other thing a changeling's senses can detect.
Ocellus whimpers internally. For the moment, she is so glad her friends aren't here. They would ask questions. She would have to explain. And Gallus would never let her live it down.
She closes her receptors, puts away her map and turns left. The smell in the air grows stronger.
A low growl stops her. The sound builds swiftly, a grinding noise like blocks of concrete rubbing against each other. Then, abruptly, it stops.
Ocellus spins around.
The hallway she just came out of is gone. Where it was there are now only walls with ugly, tattered wallpaper.
Ocellus feels an urge to borrow from Gallus' vocabulary of profanities. At least her question is answered. The map in her saddlebags is dead weight.
She opens her receptors again. Trying to force herself to taste. But there is nothing. Either she has lost that ability or...
Ocellus sighs. Of course there is nothing to taste. There is no love on the moon to feed on.
Things are different for her than other changelings. She lives at the school. Eats meals with her friends. She doesn't have to; she can survive on the love generated by their friendship alone. But it is polite. And it is fun. Well, most of it. The rest is a new experience at least.
But changelings who survive only on love consume an emotion; they do not produce any tangible waste. The drained husk of an emotion that they do exude is something only another changeling can even sense the existence of. A gossamer absence of flavor. A tingling, almost numbing sense to their receptors.
Ocellus passes a fireplace across from a reading nook. The chairs have nearly succumbed to the ashen mold. She coughs as the chalky scent becomes more pungent, mixed with a nasty underlying sweetness, like a drop of cheap perfume.
Are the changelings using the palace's own rot to navigate?
With a grinding rumble, the hallway seals in front of her. The wall vomits up an oil painting of moonsharks bounding through the lunar surface. A moldy couch pulls itself out of the floor like a rising zombie.
Behind her, the mouth of the fireplace grows like a yawning maw, the stones sliding away, until it becomes the entrance to a room.
There are four guardian drones in the room beyond. One is standing guard dutifully while two others are facing each other across a table. The last is standing on the table, a nasty grin on her face.
Ocellus turns and flies into the room, buzzing past the guards with the disinterest of some'ling who knows where they are going and is supposed to be here.
"Yesssss!" one of the guardians hisses as she flies out of the room and into yet another hallway. "That's perfect! Now do Ocellusssssssss again!"
Ocellus nearly transforms in shock. Instead, she flies faster.
The hallway behind her seals, shifting the guard room to watch another area.
Ocellus lands, letting out a shuddering breath. Her disguise held up. The four hive guardians paid her no attention, barely noting her passing. She's just a drone. Like all the others.
She looks around. The hallway is a box, no entrances or exits. Just Nightmare Moon-themed tapestries and a couple rotting chairs. The changeling nymph sits down, deciding to catch her breath as she waits for a new opening to appear.
Considering her own issues, Ocellus wonders what would happen if she touched Pride. Without using the protective saddlebag. Would it help her have pride in who she is? Or just magnify pride in how others feel about her? She quickly discards those thoughts. The anti-Element of Pride isn't a healthy sort of pride.
Ocellus' thoughts turn towards Cheer Squad. That was about pride, school spirit. And being part of a group like that is something a creature could take pride in. Something they could call their own. Except... that wasn't why she joined. She wanted to make an impression with the other students that had nothing to do with changing shape. She wanted to be something in their eyes other than just "the changeling". But it was still their eyes she was thinking about, not her own.
How can Smolder love her when she doesn't even know who she is?
Ocellus considers Gallus' girlfriend comment during the fight with Smolder.
She knows how Smolder feels towards her. Love-starved changelings would kill to have that kind of love directed at them. Often literally. But Ocellus doesn't want to leech off Smolder's love. This is Smolder.
She doesn't have to be a parasite. She can be symbiotic. Why hasn't she reciprocated Smolder's love?
She knows she cares deeply for Smolder. Deeply enough to respect the dragon's love and not want to feed if she cannot truly give it in return. If she was counseling any other creature in this situation, it would be easy. She can tell from the taste if love is pure. She knows without questioning if the love she tastes comes from the heart, and if the love is for the other creature or just for what is gained from the relationship.
But Ocellus cannot step outside herself like that. Except for the most intense situations, changelings are blind to the taste of their own love. She cannot know that what she would be giving Smolder is as genuine as what Smolder is giving her.
The air fills with a sickly rustle as the wallpaper of the far wall peels off. The revealed stonework breaks apart, the stones avalanching away like flowing water. An adventurine rod slides into place just below the ceiling as the molding withdraws like a cat sheathing its claws. With a greasy flutter, rotting curtains tumble down from the rod to frame the new opening.
Ocellus stops, shaking her head, scolding herself. These are not the thoughts to be having right now! She gets up and flies through the curtains.
The hall beyond widens into a gallery. Oil paintings of a plethora of sizes adorn the walls on either side of her. Moonscapes, batponies, moonsharks, the palace and more. Even paintings of her world as seen through the skylight in the Grand Hall. Below the paintings are columns with busts or small sculptures of Nightmare Moon.
A lime glow fills the gallery, casting the paintings in diseased colors. The light comes from streaks of royal resin; some'ling has used a royal jelly sprayer (not a "vomit cannon"!) to draw an arrow pointing at one of the many paintings of Nightmare Moon.
Ocellus flies closer, curious.
The moon pendant that the villainess is wearing protrudes slightly from the painting. It is the button for a void barrier, this one already shut down by the hive. At least she knows she is headed the right way.
Next to it is a painting of Nightmare Moon's Palace as seen from the shallow valley behind it. The painting is dominated by the kiss of sunlight on the dome of the dungeon colosseum.
Ocellus knows she has to focus on thoughts that will not cause her love to show. But instead, she thinks back to the battle with Smolder, and finds herself dwelling on the way she protected herself through memory of Smolder's love.
But instead of thoughts that would cause her own love to swell, she finds herself sinking into the memory of how hollow it felt to not sense love from the dragon. How much it reminded her of her dream. Of that mirror with no reflection.
The gallery elbows, but the other segment is shallow. Ocellus turns the corner and reaches the end of the hallway. She half expects to see a mirror there, showing her nothing. Or a painting of a mirror.
Instead, she sees the tall, gaunt figure of a grandmare clock. Black spires and gothic batwings rise up behind a numberless moon-face with silver forks. The clock is silent.
"From one faceless being to another," Ocellus quips, "What makes you tick?"
What makes me tick? Ocellus thinks in response.
Love. Obviously. Any 'ling would answer that.
Then what makes me an individual?
"It's perfectly normal for a changeling to struggle with identity issues," Ocellus says, perfectly mimicking Starlight's voice, parroting the non-advice she got from her one serious attempt at counsel. But is it really?
She isn't like Hyaline, fretting about what color she should be. Nor has she ever been in danger of forgetting she is a changeling and thinking she is a bugbear.
Back when she was much more shy, she would use other forms to hide herself. But she always knew they were disguises. And that hasn't changed -- she still very much knows which form is "her" and which are magical transformations...
Ocellus stares at the clock. The faceless clock.
Slowly, an epiphany rolls over her. She can see it coming. A slow-moving train, and she is tied to the track.
Ocellus can sense the love people have for her, and she knows that sense is real: undisguised and unvarnished truth. She wouldn't be able to eat it if it wasn't. At school, she has close friends who truly love her, in addition to teachers who care about her... it's almost enough to be overwhelming, especially for someone who grew up love-starved.
It's natural for creatures to see themselves, at least in part, by how others see them. Creatures often act the way they do to impress others, or make them happy, or be better than them. But she can tell exactly how her actions and her attitudes and her hobbies affect the love other creatures feel towards her.
With a sinking feeling, Ocellus attempts to examine the things she has done, asking herself how much of her behavior today alone was designed to provoke a positive response or avoid a negative one. How many worries were about losing love?
The very first thing I did waking up was hide so Smolder wouldn't get a bad impression. She would understand if I just told her, but I don't because I don't want her to feel bad about it. I don't want that to dampen her feelings.
That was... that was being kind too. Caring for her friend's feelings. But the nymph cannot trick herself into believing that is all that was.
Maybe start from the most recent.
She ran away from her friends and hid before transforming so Gallus and Smolder wouldn't associate her with a love-starved changeling.
How long ago did she start tailoring so much of what she did based on this?
It is so tempting to behave as the creature she wants those around her to think she is. She's sharing love, but is she still behaving love-starved? Acting however generates the most love? Even to the point of unconsciously shapeshifting to elicit reactions that satisfy subconscious cravings? Like she did with Smolder yesterday?
Not because her friends want her to. Or expect her to. Or would ever ask her to. But because she is recasting herself voluntarily based on what she wants to be in their eyes.
The gothic grandmare clock stares silently back. No tick. No tock.
Ocellus realizes she has given up all sense of who she is. She has no idea how she would behave, or the person she would be, without her friends. She has become a cipher.
No teenk. No tunk.
Ocellus slumps to the floor, burying her face in her hole-ridden forelegs.
I really don't remember the last time I felt like an individual. And I've done this to myself.
A hole opens in the ceiling with the sound of crumpling plaster and rippling concrete. Ocellus watches as stairs unfold from the opening, banisters rising to meet adventurine railings that snake down from the opening above. As the last step kisses the floor, the carpet washes up the stairs.
This would absolutely freak Gallus out, Ocellus thinks. On the other hoof, it is almost a shame Silverstream is missing this. She would love it.
Ocellus does not love the sounds coming from above. The buzzing of wings -- layers upon layers of the familiar droning built into a hurricane. Underneath the sound was skittering.
Ocellus closes her eyes and repeats the mantra: Just a drone. No tick. No tock. Just a drone...
Her own wings add to the buzz as she flies up through the hole and into the heart of the hive.
The air is cloying with the chalk-sweet stench of palace rot.
Ocellus opens her eyes to the sight of a huge morphic foyer and swarms of black carapace.
Changeling pods hang from the foyer's only static pillars and grow around a fountain identical to the one in the Grand Hall. Their light blends with the azure flame of torches, filling the foyer with an almost aquatic light. Fabric images of Nightmare Moon and Celestia jump between tapestries, doing battle.
Clusters of drones fly through openings in the ceiling as vaulted arches and ribbing shift as if the roof is breathing. Scores of drones follow up a curving stairwell that twists about like a snake, its head moving between openings. Dozens more enter or vanish through doors and hallways that appear and disappear.
There are over a hundred drones in this room alone!
This is why I had to come on my own.
Drone-Ocellus falls in with a stream of love-starved drones, hiding in the mass of many. Her ocelli watch for an opening with golden trim or an excess of lime green light. Pride isn't here. She needs to go deeper.
This hive is huge! Queen Elytra must have hundreds of drones. Maybe thousands!
But how? The moon is absolutely devoid of love. Are they somehow sustaining themselves off of the plants in the Conservatory? Ocellus thinks the food at the school would keep her going without love for quite a while. But it lacks vital nutrients for a changeling.
Now that she thinks of it, every drone in this hive should be terribly sick.
The nymph slides gracefully between flows of drones, hating how easy it is. She isn't love-starved -- shouldn't it be easier for them to tell? A loathing vibration in her breast wants her to scream at them for not realizing she is different.
Her ears catch the sound of rippling canvas. Ocellus turns to see an oil painting of giant spiders devoured by its frame, becoming an open window. Lime light pours into the foyer from beyond the frame.
With another slide between groups, Drone-Ocellus finds herself in the hissing company of only half a dozen drones as they fly out of the foyer through the window.
The hall beyond is static. Baroque golden trim and filigree climb the walls and weave across the ceiling like spider's webbing. Clusters of empty changeling cocoons line the walls and hang like lanterns.
The point of cocoons is to cocoon somecreature.
Maybe they were made for her and her friends? But that doesn't make much sense -- a changeling queen makes a cocoon around Her victim, not before they are captured.
Before she can ponder further, her thoughts skitter apart like cockroaches exposed to bright light. The taste that strikes her receptors nearly causes her to break form: onion and bitter root and overcooked cabbage. She gasps, shutting her receptors closed as she fights not to gag.
One of the other drones turns and looks at her as she falls behind. His questioning expression shifts into a nasty grin. He turns away from her and shoots forward.
Ocellus slows further, the other drones leaving her behind. She is reeling, the taste clinging to her memory. She knows what she just tasted, and she knows how the hive is sustaining itself.
Queen Elytra loves them.
It is the sickest love she has ever tasted. Possessive, dominating, without a shred of compassion. Like the flicker of love a changeling in arts and crafts might feel for a well-formed pot, but saturated with something deeply poisonous.
Still, it is a form of love. And they are feeding on it. Parasitically. There is no love whatsoever coming from the drones in response. Only obedience. As if that's all she wants from them.
How is Queen Elytra surviving?
What she has found is so completely different from either Queen Chrysalis' hive or King Thorax's that it leaves Ocellus reeling. For a while, the insects of her thoughts scurry about in her head -- ants whose marching order has been disturbed.
Her thought-ants suddenly find a new marching order, falling into a straight line.
The anti-Elements resonate with those who share their vice. Smolder and Gallus both resonated with Greed and Envy respectively, but not in a way that was symbiotic. She hasn't seen yet what happens when an anti-Element finds a creature whose vice is truly in harmony with it.
Ocellus stops flying altogether.
There is a reason Queen Elytra built her hive in this wing, right on top of Pride. It's somehow feeding her.
Changelings are blind to their own love except in the most intense situations. They certainly cannot feed on it. But when an anti-Element resonates nearly perfectly with a creature, the vice is amplified.
Ocellus realizes that Queen Elytra is sustaining herself on her own self-love in a bizarre self-cannibalism only possible because of Pride.
Worse, she probably doesn't even know it.
Ocellus stares down the hallway of golden filigree and empty cocoons.
Whatever is at the end of this hallway, that is where I will find Queen Elytra... and Pride.
"I wish you were here with me... not the way you are now... the way you used to be."
Ocellus recalls thinking the love-starved hive's infesting Nightmare Moon's Palace. Now, she has found the core of the infestation.
The vast room is filled with changeling pods, each large enough to encase a bugbear and filled with royal jelly. Between them, sets of columns populate the enormous space, fan vaulting rising from their tops like the canopy of a jungle. Stairwells descend from balcony viewing rooms above. The lime lighting makes the room feel like the dark heart of a swamp.
The swamp is full of buzzing insects. Black, hole-ridden drones dart about, several carrying lanterns of blue flame. Ocellus feels a pang, realizing she has left her little friend with Gallus. Perhaps it is better she not see her sisters serving this hive.
Ocellus moves through the swamp. Keeping her head down, her ocelli open.
Gallus was surprised that Greed was in the dungeon, not the palace treasury. This is the treasury of Nightmare Moon's Palace. But any faux treasure Nightmare Moon created for herself has been broken down, the dark essence turned into weapons. Display tables that may once have held replicas of crowns and scepters are now covered in rows of royal jelly sprayers. Shelves hold glowing, putrescent orbs, lined up like they were books.
Unlike Queen Chrysalis, Elytra has no throne. Her weapons are her monument to herself. The treasury is an armory.
Ocellus stops before an octagonal display table. Two dozen moonsilver needles ring the surface, sharp ends pointed inwards, blue smoke roiling in the bulbs.
Ocellus pales internally at the idea of two dozen more abominations like the ones she and Gallus encountered. She looks about. Seeing no drone watching, she opens her saddlebag and scoops them into it with a swing of a foreleg.
Not that she has any intention of using them herself. She'll just break them down. Smolder can make herself gemstones.
Stop! Don't think of Smolder! Don't think of any of them. She cannot feel love. Not here.
Ocellus looks around again. Three sets of columns ahead, a drone is tending to a changeling pod. Another flies by in the next aisle, carrying a royal jelly sprayer. Neither are paying her any attention.
Between the pods, she spots another set of onyx columns. The third set she has seen in the treasury. But the first column is shattered at its base, only a few jagged black stones remaining.
No sign of Queen Elytra yet. Nor any sign of Pride. Ocellus hopes she finds the latter swiftly enough to avoid the former.
Ocellus dares not open her receptors in here. She can't handle another taste of the queen's love. A steady diet of that, and stabbing herself in the eye might seem reasonable.
Nothing is shifting in here. The treasury is stable. The cavernous room seems to swallow the drones buzzing within. The deeper she goes, the fewer she sees. Have they been ordered to keep only to the outer edges of the treasury?
A drone drifts by, paying her no attention. Ocellus notices a saddlepack similar to the one worn by the drone she hit with a vase. It might even be the same drone.
Okay, limited access to the armory makes sense. And since Queen Elytra's drones are always obedient, none of them question her presence. If she is here, she must be supposed to be here.
Ocellus nearly understands that level of submission. Queen Chrysalis demanded it. And Ocellus, like every other drone, had given it. Queen Chrysalis was their mother, their ruler. When Ocellus was young, she almost worshipped her.
Until Thorax and Starlight invaded the hive and Thorax proved there was a better way.
These changelings receive their only source of love from Queen Elytra. Obedience for life. The very thought of disobeying must be anathema, disobedience tantamount to suicide.
Ocellus feels her hopes of saving this hive fading.
She catches her love-starved reflection in a changeling pod as she passes close to it. Ocellus stops, staring at herself. Everything that horrifies her stares back into her ocelli. Feelings of remorse and revulsion swell from her gut. Empathy and hatred seep from her heart. They mix in the cauldron of her soul. Churning. Making her ill.
There is a shape in the pod.
Ocellus' breath catches. She assumed they were all full of royal jelly. Who, or what, would be imprisoned within? The only living things on the moon, aside from the changelings themselves, were moonsharks. And the creature trapped inside this pod, while large, was far too small even for a mega-eel hatchling.
Ocellus begins to circle the pod. As she reaches the far side, the slumbering form within becomes clear.
"Yona!" She breathes her friend's name, the whisper of a shout. Immediately, she spins, looking for any'ling who might have heard her.
This side of the pod faces a wide aisle beneath the canopy of fanning ribs. At one end is the largest pod yet, big enough for her gigantic insect form. At the other is another set of onyx pillars, again with the first pillar broken, the rubble cleaned away. More pods cling to the fan-ribbed ceiling in clusters. But Ocellus sees no other changelings. The aisle is completely devoid of drones.
Ocellus turns back. She knocks on the pod. "Yona? Yona!"
To her relief, she sees Yona's eyes flitter open. She cannot help the swell of love she feels at seeing her friend. Or the fear at finding her like this. In this place.
If I had stopped to look at myself in any other pod...
Ocellus shoves away that thought before anxieties over how she could have accidentally doomed Yona prevent her from saving her friend.
Yona is staring at her with revulsion.
Ocellus feels a wrenching in her heart. She knows why. Her friend is staring at Ocellus the Love-Starved Drone.
With a flash of turquoise, Ocellus reveals herself. "Yona!" She whispers. "It's me! Ohgosh, I'll have you right out of there!"
Yona smiles. It is not a good smile.
Oh no.
Ocellus feels her insides becoming numb, slewing away. This is a trap. It wasn't luck that she found the right pod. She briefly wonders what percentage are seeded with changelings like this, drones willingly becoming trapped and helpless to act as bait.
The hive knows she is here. But they still can't tell her apart from themselves, so they are using the forms of her friends to try to provoke a love response that will betray her.
Icy cold flows over her. But before it can paralyze her, the room is filled by a booming voice from the farthest cocoon...
"No! Badbug not fool bugfriend!"
...followed by a loud crash.
Ocellus turns to see another Yona in the far cocoon.
Paralysis shifts to hope. The only way they could mimic Yona is if they had encountered the real Yona!
Ocellus' eyes widen, staring at the extremely oversized pod and the form of her friend moving within it. Her mind is a library, and a yak-shaped calamity has knocked all the books from the shelves.
If that is her, the real Yona is doing a number of impossible things all at once. She's awake and moving inside her cocoon! And talking... understandably despite the fluid interior. And most unimaginably...
As Ocellus watches, Yona slams her head into the cocoon, creating a spiderweb of cracks!
...she's breaking out!
Ocellus dares peek open her receptors, gagging hard. Overcooked cabbage, slightly rotting spinach and bitter roots overwhelm her. But beneath the cloying, pungent taste of Queen Elytra's love, she can discern a thin emanation of mushroom soup, green tea and wet dirt. Yona's love -- strangely muted but still clearly Yona's.
Ocellus' jaw drops open. She squeaks, speechless.
Insanely, she thinks: yaks really are the best at not being paralyzed.
From above, another voice vocalizes Ocellus' confusion and disbelief. "What!?? How...? How are you even moving!?? That's impossible!"
Ocellus's gaze is ripped upwards as the changeling queen emerges from her hiding place within the pods on the ceiling above. She is struck by how much Queen Elytra looks like Chrysalis. Similar... but not the same. Elytra is younger and even more emaciated, with more holes in her limbs, and even one through the first bend of her horn. She has slightly warmer tones of green and blue in her carapace and irises. Her hair is shorter, pulled back into a ponytail.
Queen Elytra set this trap for Ocellus. She has her prize, but she is completely focused on the inconceivable event playing out before them.
Ocellus looks back in time to see a charging Yona -- not just moving but charging within her pod! -- ram into the shell. The small spiderweb of cracks in the pod grow to cover the whole face of it.
Yona backs up two steps, pushing against the resin that should be binding her. It ripples around the yak the way royal resin only does when its queen wills it. Her mind flashes to the memory of Queen Chrysalis confronting Thorax. The memory revisited in last night's dream.
Queen Chrysalis scoffs. "The only thing Thorax has found..." She announces as She marches up to the treasonous drone who abandoned them and helped outsiders invade the hive. "...is what happens to those who turn their back on the hive!"
The Queen lifts him with Her royal magic, pulling him from the royal resin as it turns to jelly at Her will, no longer binding him to the floor.
But this is clearly not the will of Queen Elytra.
Yona stares at the changeling queen defiantly, her eyes glowing a bright silvery-white. "Yona moving because YAKS BEST!"
Ocellus' disbelief freezes and shatters. Oh. Of course. "Hello, Pride."
Another slam, and Yona does what yaks do best. With a resounding SMASH! the changeling pod ruptures. Yona pours out in a flood of green, viscous liquid.
Ocellus flies to Yona's side, but the afflicted yak is already getting up. Ocellus ducks behind a column as the yak shakes herself, flinging liquefied resin everywhere.
This is so very, very bad. She needs a plan.
"Stupid, wicked bug-lady try to capture Yona! Try to steal Yona's special rock! Try to hurt Yona's bugfriend! Yona SMASH you and all you stupid bug-people!"
Ocellus doesn't need to be told what Yona's "special rock" is, and she aches for her friend.
Ocellus wonders: is she seeing what happens to somecreature under the normal influence of an anti-Element? If so, she has no idea what to expect, or how badly her Yona has been warped by it. Queen Elytra formed a parasitic relationship with Pride. Gallus was repulsed by Envy, and Smolder... well, what Smolder did with Greed was by no means normal.
Hidden behind the column, the nymph hears Yona venting angrily at Queen Elytra. "You nothing but leeches. Bug-leeches. Leeches get stomped!"
The words skewer Ocellus. Surely that's Pride. Surely Yona never thought of changelings that way. At least, not changelings like her. Right?
She peeks around the column. "uh... Yona?"
Yona stops, turning to see the timid form of her changeling friend. Her eyes widen, and Ocellus can see the yak become more self-aware of her words. But instead of the worry and apologetic hurt she would see in the eyes of their Yona, the yak's expression becomes defensive.
"Yona not prejudice," Yona says, pointing towards Ocellus. "Yona have bugfriend."
"Oh yeah, this is fun," Ocellus says to herself with a deadpan worthy of Gallus.
Queen Elytra is hovering in the air over them, unimpressed. Her horn glows, and a horrible sloshing fills the air as the resin in the changeling pods around them softens. Flashes of brighter green light from within tell Ocellus the bait changelings are retaking their natural forms.
They are about to be so very surrounded.
Just like Starlight and Thorax.
Ocellus lifts herself into the air, her arms wide. "Listen to me! Look at me!"
All about her, she hears the softened pods splitting open like overripe fruit. The skittering of drones as they climb out. The wet sound of wings shaking off a coating of melted resin.
"I'm a changeling too," she calls as she lifts herself high for all to see. "I was once starving, just like all of you. But there is another way to survive. You just have to share your love!"
She looks at Queen Elytra. The queen hovers, her expression cool, unfazed. Not haughty. Not panicking.
Several of the drones are taking to the air, staring at her with the hostility their queen's demeanor lacks.
She has to reach them. They have to see."I'm living proof!"
They have to!
"Well, that is definitely something worth looking into," Queen Elytra responds in a droll tone. "After we get home."
The changelings surrounding them hiss, their forked tongues lashing out like angry serpents. Agreeing with their Queen. Applauding her. Intimidating the intruders into their hive.
A black hole of deja vu.
Queen Elytra flies up to her. "A noble try Ocellus." The queen's voice is calm and sickly sweet.
"But my hive is driven by a greater hunger than love. I give them love. And once we have reclaimed what should be mine, if any of them wishes to become like you, they have my blessing to do so." Queen Elytra's eyes narrow and her tone becomes harder than a cragadile's scales. "Unlike some queens, I don't punish my children if they want to sever ties and go their own way."
"This is not our home!" the changeling queen announces, moving past her. The part of Ocellus not simply reeling makes mental notes. "The world in the sky is. I was banished to this lonely rock by my mother for the crime of being everything I was born to be."
Below them, Yona is still glowering haughtily. "Are all bugqueens best at monologuing?"
Her afflicted friend's words shake Ocellus out of her stupor. Her mental notebook Unanswered Questions is open and she is finally filling in lines under her first and biggest question: why are there changelings on the moon? She doesn't have a picture yet, but Queen Elytra's soliloquy is revealing that the puzzle does have pieces. And she has found a big one.
"You're not looking to return peacefully from banishment," Ocellus counters. Queen Elytra spins around to face her again. "You're creating weapons! You're stealing Luna's knowledge. I'm not going to let you come to my home bringing war and nightmares..."
"Nightmares?" Queen Elytra interrupts. "Who said anything about nightmares? With all your former ruler knows, I can bring creatures' dreams to life! Give them their deepest, darkest desires! I'll give them what they love, and there will be no end to the feeding. With that power, no force could stand against me. And who would want to?"
Ocellus' jaw drops.
That's... Ingenious? Diabolical? Horrifying? Under Queen Chrysalis, changelings used to eliminate creatures who were part of a loving relationship and replace them. How many creatures would willingly accept a facsimile of someone they loved and lost? Or someone they could never have? How many would give up their freedom for their greatest desires made real... or as real as anything created from dark essence could pretend to be?
When she was a love-starved changeling, she would pretend to be what a pony wanted her to be. Now, she's... still doing that, isn't she? Is she any more real than the effigies that Queen Elytra is promising?
Queen Elytra ignores the yak beneath them, focusing on Ocellus. The queen's voice shifts again to sickly sweetness. "All I want is to return home. And you... you and that monster in the mirror... you seek to rob me of that chance?"
Ocellus jerks as if slapped. A defiant anger wells within her. "Luna's not a monster! No matter what she did before. She's changed! Creatures can change!"
Queen Elytra scowls, her tone one of dry anger. "I don't want to change. I want to carve out my place and shape it in my image!"
"Yona not want world in ugly bugqueen image! World should be in image of YAKS!"
Queen Elytra's eyes narrow to slits. Then widen as she smiles far too widely. "Well, if nightmares are what you truly want..."
Ocellus knows she has failed. But she has one shot left to end this -- to remove Queen Elytra (without even harming her!) and break the leash she has on her drones. Before the changeling queen can finish her threat, Ocellus transforms in a flash of turquoise light.
Cockatrice-Ocellus stares into Queen Elytra's eyes.
Queen Elytra spits jelly into Cockatrice-Ocellus' face, blinding her.
I can't see! I can't see! Ocellus falls to the floor with a bone-shaking thud, wrenching one of her cockatrice wings. She reverts to her nymph self as her hooves fly to her face, her ocelli covered in hardening resin. She feels the splash of more royal jelly hit her, spilling across her body and to the floor, stiffening, becoming elastic.
The royal jelly binding her never solidifies. It collapses back into softness as a yak hoof wipes it away from her face. Ocellus looks up, her vision blurry. The smile on Yona's face looks a lot like her friend's.
How is she doing that? Only a queen...
Wait, is Pride's relationship with Queen Elytra symbiotic? Pride amplifies Elytra's self-love enough for her to feed on herself. Is it also taking something from her? Ocellus knows pride is a weakness that masquerades as a strength. A precarious self-image that must be fed. If the anti-Elements resonate with their vices, what has Pride conned Elytra into feeding it?
Is Yona drawing on Queen Elytra's powers through Pride somehow?
Her ocelli catch the light of drones conjuring their collision barriers. "Yona, look out!"
The nymph's vision goes dark as she gets a face full of yak fur, Yona stepping over her protectively.
Ocellus hears the meaty thumps as five drones comet into the yak. The nymph's breath catches as she waits for the yak to collapse on her, unconscious or dead. She knows that should have killed her friend.
The fall doesn't come. Ocellus slides her head enough to see beyond the dangling curtain of yak belly-hair. Her still-blurred ocelli open wide with wonder.
Pride-Yona continues to stand, unfazed as the drones scattered around her groan and try to regain their senses.
Yona bounds off of her, diving into battle with the drones.
Ocellus rolls onto her hooves. "I'm beginning to really dislike the word 'bugfriend'."
Queen Elytra lands in front of her. "Go ahead," she says in a silky purr. "Show me another of your interesting forms."
Ocellus flies into the air, trying to keep her distance. A shapeshifter battle is the last thing she wants. One of the first aspects of this hive Ocellus noticed was their limited and object-heavy form repertoire. They've proven adept at learning new ones, one even becoming her dice and Gallus. She doesn't want to add any new weapons to their arsenal.
It was probably a really bad move to turn into a cockatrice. On the other hoof, maybe they'll all just petrify each other.
Queen Elytra looks up at her with an expression that says: where do you think you're going? The room is huge, there is a lot of up, but eventually she will hit the ceiling.
"Of all the creatures from our home, you had to be a changeling," Queen Elytra says in an almost regretful tone. "You are a threat to everything, Ocellus. I can't let you leave here. Not someone who can identify my drones just by standing near them."
Ocellus blinks. That's why she's worried about me? Not because I might destroy the portal, but because she thinks I'm a drone detector? It doesn't even work that way!
Except it almost would if part of her palate wasn't atrophied. Love-waste is something only changelings can taste. It would be useless in situations when love wasn't a factor, which usually included battle, but a changeling could use their senses to detect another changeling while they were in the act of feeding.
The queen beats her wings, flying up towards Ocellus.
If that's why I'm a threat, Ocellus realizes, then she must see our whole hive the same way. In her invasion, we'll be her first target.
Ocellus transforms into a rock and drops into Queen Elytra's upturned face. Queen Elytra lets out a rasp of surprise and pain as the impact drives her back down. The changeling queen somersaults as she falls, Rock-Ocellus sliding off her face.
Rock-Ocellus hits the floor, bouncing once and transforming in a flash. "Yona! Our friends are waiting for us!"
Above her, the queen wobbles in the air, dazed.
"Yaks not retreat! Yaks win!"
Oh please not this. Ocellus thinks quickly. Yona needs to win; her pride demands it. So set the win conditions. "They're trying to keep us here. We win if we get back to our friends!"
Yona pauses at that. The yak stops thumping a drone, dropping it to the floor unconscious, and looks around. "Okay. Bugfriend lead way."
Ocellus can almost taste Pride tainting every use of that word. A word she's used to hearing said only with fondness and maybe some respect. It makes her queasy.
Ocellus looks around too. There are huge crater-impact cracks across the marble flooring. She sees a lot of unconscious drones scattered about the floor. As much as she misses her true friend, Ocellus is really glad that Pride-charged, nigh-invincible, Yak-supremacist-version Yona is on her side.
Queen Elytra flies above them, having shaken off the blow. "Now that was just rude."
Her horn is glowing with fierce green light. Two chunks of onyx stone float up next to her, rotating slowly. In the light of the queen's magic, Ocellus catches the deconstruction capital rune carved into each stone.
"Let me show you another of my toys," Queen Elytra hisses, hurling one of the onyx rocks at Ocellus.
Ocellus dives behind a ruptured changeling pod. The rock hits the floor on the opposite side of her cover.
The treasury fills with a horrendous warping sound, like the air itself is screaming. Reality warps as her cover is pulled apart, broken down into globblets of green as it is vacuumed into an eruption of ultra-bright etheric flashes.
The uncontrolled devouring tears up the floor beneath the lights, turning it into oil and blue smoke before it is sucked into the light.
Ocellus feels herself being pushed towards the etheric lights as air rushes into the void. She scrambles, the marble beneath her offering nothing to grab onto. She loses purchase with the ground, beating her wings frantically as she is drawn through the air towards the devouring point.
With a pop, the flashes collapse. Ocellus drops, hitting the chewed edge of the floor and rolling into the cistern below. She spreads her wings, beating hard, catching herself. Her heart is pounding, her breaths hard and quick. Her flesh is panic-tight under her chitin.
She crests the floor to see Queen Elytra smiling at her, juggling the second onyx stone.
"Hey! Evil bugwhore!"
Ocellus nearly falls out of the air at Yona's choice of word.
Queen Elytra turns.
"YAK SMASH!"
Yona STOMPS! Her hooves flash with silvery-white light that spreads out in a visual shockwave, tearing up the marble floor. Veins of light race up the columns to each side of the yak as they crack. Then shatter.
Fractures lit with silver-white light slash across the fan ribbing above. Chunks of the ceiling start to fall. One crashes down on a softened changeling pod, smashing it open like an egg. Lime green pours out, running into the cracks in the floor.
In a rush, Ocellus remembers all those lessons from Twilight about what the Elements of Harmony were capable of when wielded by someone in tune with their spirits. She almost feels Pride is making a statement, reminding every creature just what being an anti-Element means.
Queen Elytra backs up, eyes wide, then darts away to avoid being hit as the ceiling begins to come down.
Ocellus chooses a different direction and does the same, calling out and hoping desperately that Yona follows.
She finds herself rapidly approaching the wall. Above, she can see the balcony of the viewing room. She can fly up there easily, but Yona can't. She turns to see if her friend is following.
"Badbugs on the stairs!" Yona warns.
Ocellus looks. Yona is understating. A whole swarm is pouring into the room from the stairs. They would already be overwhelmed if the drones weren't pulling back from the collapse.
"We're not taking the stairs!" Ocellus swoops back towards Yona.
"Yona not like flying!" the yak shouts crossly.
Okay, then we won't fly, Ocellus thinks, shifting to a new plan as she surrounds herself in transformation energy, becoming Dragon-Ocellus. We'll create a climbable platform.
Turning yet again, she swoops to the closest display table, snatching a (not a vomit cannon!) royal jelly sprayer barely a moment before a huge chunk of ceiling crashes down, smashing the display table.
Dragon-Ocellus dodges the debris sent flying from the destruction. She spins, aiming the nozzle, and triggers the spray with her other claw, sending an arc of fast-hardening resin up the wall, from floor to balcony.
As Yona races up, Ocellus fires off more streams towards them, discouraging the more courageous drones from pursuing. She tries not to actually hit any, not wishing to trap a drone in resin beneath a collapsing ceiling. But the sprayer is hard to aim, the the jelly snares two of the drones who brave it. Mercifully the jelly only catches the forelegs of one and a wing of the other -- enough to drop them to the floor, but not enough to prevent them from taking forms that could survive.
Ocellus lingers long enough to see one becomes a tapestry before flying out through the balcony viewing room, following Yona.
With a great rumble, the treasury ceiling continues to crumble, more pillars cracking with fractures of white light and shattering in the cascading failure.
The changeling nymph reverts to her true form as she looks at the golden filigree in the walls.
The hallway looks similar to the one she had been in before, but she remembers more changeling pods. Oddly empty ones. Repositories, perhaps, for more royal jelly? Either way, this is not the same hall. Or, at least, parts of it aren't.
"I'm keeping this as a gift for Gallus," Ocellus tells Yona as she works to strap the sprayer over her back. "He's here. Smolder too!" The tank is almost empty, but she has no doubt the griffon would make good use of what was left. Okay, little doubt. Maybe some doubt.
"Yona other friends here? Is Sandbar? Silverstream?"
Four anti-Elements. Four friends. Ocellus shakes her head. "No. I think it's just the four of us."
Yona's face falls at the news. Ocellus feels for her. Even like this, with what Pride is twisting her into, this is Yona. She still sees her friend in there, behind the silver-white lights of her eyes.
Ocellus revisits an old line of thought. Queen Elytra's displeasure at having brought a changeling into the palace gives weight to her assumption that the queen didn't know who her corruption of the mirror portal would deliver. Envy, Pride and Greed each found a friend of hers that they could resonate with. That left her and Wrath by default. With no resonance, she wasn't drawn to Wrath.
Ocellusssss! You're not where you're ssssssupposed to be!
So what happened to Silverstream and Sandbar? The most likely answer is the same thing that happened to Luna. That they are in changeling pods near the mirror, having their memories drained.
The idea continues to make her feel deeply ill.
"More bugs," Yona snorts in disgust, clopping a hoof and lowering her horns.
Ocellus looks up to see half a dozen guardian drones staring at them from the far end of the hall. Before she can react, Yona is charging down the hall.
The guardian patrol shoots towards her. To Ocellus, they look like pins rushing a rolling bowling ball.
A grinding fills the air as a new wall begins to bisect the hallway -- growing from the walls, floor and ceiling simultaneously. The angry faces of the patrol disappear as the wall fills in like a closing sphincter. Golden filigree snakes up like fast-moving ivy.
Yona tries to stop before she hits and trips, somersaulting into the spreading wallpaper with a graceless thud.
A rending sound builds within the wall beside Ocellus. Wallpaper splits like skin. Filigree wilts and tumbles to the floor. Columns rise up, sprouting capitals. Soon, another doorway has formed.
Ocellus jumps through, calling for Yona to follow before the new wall closes.
The new room is familiar. The gallery. Yona's voice rings out behind her.
"Yona hate stupid bugplace!"
Still, mercifully, she follows. Ocellus turns to see the yak jump through the opening just before it seals itself, strands of canvas slithering together like dozens of licking tongues. Melding into a painting. The paint spreads across it like fast-growing mold, forming into the image of Nightmare Moon staring up at the crescent world in the sky.
Yona looks around at all the paintings, exuding curiosity and confusion.
Ocellus closes her eyes, trying to build up some defense against the absolute nastiness coming from her friend. She can't stand hearing her like this. This is not Yona.
I need to get Pride away from her, Ocellus thinks. As fast as possible. Preferably without any bug-squashing.
Ocellus thinks. She can't just snatch it. Her friend is clearly in possession of Pride, and it of her. But Ocellus hasn't actually seen it; she isn't sure where it is under all that yak hair.
And she won't fight Yona. She's already physically fought one friend for an anti-Element. And despite having defeated super-sized Smolder, Ocellus doubts she could win against the Pride-enhanced yak. Not after seeing Pride literally bring the house down.
So what are my options? I doubt she'll just give Pride to me if I ask nicely.
"Why bugplace have no pictures of bugs? Why funny-looking ponies?" Yona questions.
Here it comes, Ocellus thinks sourly.
"Should have pictures of yaks."
Ocellus takes a deep breath, then puts on a beatific smile. She opens her receptors, getting a strong taste of Yona. Mushrooms, grave dirt and tea. The taste is simultaneously Yona and disturbingly wrong. Ocellus can taste the platonic love of Yona's friendship, but there is something rotting in it. There is a strong streak of actual love in her pride, both of herself and her people. But love for her culture and heritage is riddled by a cancerous nationalism, as if pride itself is a love-starved changeling feeding on her love.
"Thank you so much for saving me back there," Ocellus says, tasting the shifts in Yona's love at the praise. The nymph adjusts her voice for stronger effect, her tone earnest and simpering. "I couldn't have survived against the bugqueen without you. You're amazing!"
"Yona happy to help," Yona says, smiling back at her. "Ocellus Yona's friend. Yona not let bugfriend get hurt. Yona best at friendship."
Mushroom soup, parsley, yak tea. Strong, and directed at her as much as herself. There is still a poisonous aftertaste, but after the queen's love, what is coming from Yona right now is almost heavenly.
"You sure are! And what you did back there was... I don't even have words for how fabulous that was." Ocellus chooses her wording to create an association with Professor Rarity, letting the compliment subconsciously feel like it is praise from Yona's favorite teacher.
Yona beams at the praise. Her eyes glow with bright silver-white light. "Yona best at smashing!"
Ocellus tastes Yona's self-love surge. She adjusts farther, making her tone just a touch more simpering, her expression more saintly.
I'm doing exactly what I've been doing wrong, Ocellus judges, not proud of herself at all. I'm being what creates the love response I want rather than being in any way me. Only this time, she is fully aware and doing it with intent. Which is even worse.
"Oh yes! And you're better than you ever were," Ocellus fawns. "I'm so glad you found that special rock. You make the best pair!"
"Special rock know Yaks are Best!" Yona thumps her chest with a hoof, standing even taller. She is soaking in the praise, letting it build her up. "And Yona is Best Yak!"
Ocellus tastes and adjusts. She nods energetically. "Especially now that you have that rock to help you be Best. My friend Yona is the best Yak now! The changeling queen never stood a chance!"
Yona nods, grinning. "Yes, Yona... hold on." The yak's expression falters, her brow furrowing. "Yona not need fancy rock to be best!"
Taste and adjust.
Ocellus backs up a step, genuflecting. "Sorry! I didn't mean you can't be best without it... uh... it's just that it helps you be best." She points a hoof. "Makes it easier, right?"
Yona scowls. "Yak BEST with or without rock!"
Ocellus puts on a face of angelic contrition. "O-of course. If you say so. I'm your friend, so I believe you."
Yona flinches back, then steps forward, stomping and snorting. "Yona prove! Here, take fancy rock! Yona show bug she best without it!"
Yona pulls the huge, round diamond out of her thick yak hair. Silvery-white light dances between its facets.
The full moon, Ocellus thinks. Which would leave Wrath as the crescent.
Ocellus stares at Pride as her friend thrusts it at her. And now realizes her plan has one small flaw. She won't be able to just scoop it up safely from Yona's hoof with her saddlebags. She's going to have to take it -- touch Pride -- even if just for a moment.
Okay. I can do this. I just need to be fast. Professor Dash fast. Ocellus feels a shaky confidence that it won't be able to poison her if she only touches it for a second.
Before Yona can change her mind, Ocellus bites Pride, one hoof opening her saddlebag.
Not a problem. Of course she was right. She's totally on top of his. Look at how amazing she just was!
Wait, what?
The surge of self-assurance was not only completely foreign, but the exact opposite of the self-disgust she was feeling just seconds before. Ocellus drops Pride into her saddlebag, feeling the throbs of a headache.
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus' ears shoot up. Beside her, Yona wobbles. The yak's expression collapses. She drops to the floor, burying her face in her hooves.
Ocellus turns to face the gallery's grandmare clock. The numberless, moon-like face stares back at her. The minute fork shifts.
"A runaway train is bearing down on five people. You're standing on the platform next to an enormously fat man. Pushing him into the track would stop the train."
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus stares numbly at the grandmare clock. It had been silent. Dead silent. She'd been in the gallery before, sat before this very clock as her illusions fell apart and she realized the truth.
The grandmare clock had stared back at her, watching without a tick or a tock.
Teenk. Tunk.
A shiver tickles the flesh under her chitin.
The clock started ticking the moment she put Pride into her saddlebag. The instant she had taken possession of it safely. There was no question anymore; the clocks were reacting to her.
Are they an alarm? A warning?
A countdown?
The gallery fills with a cacophony of deterioration-- sounds reminding Ocellus of the grinding of rocks, the crumbling of dry leaves, the sloughing of a mudslide. The way out between the curtains bricks itself up, the ebony bricks spilling out to form a fireplace. At either end of the gallery, picture frames grow, devouring their neighbors as they become new archways, the paintings collapsing in streams like melting wax.
Teenk. Tunk.
The far archway leads into an empty sitting room decorated in ugly spider-print wallpaper. The near one reveals a guard room teaming with two full patrols. Several of them see her and shout to the others.
Ocellus dives for the painting at the end of the resin arrow, slamming her hoof on the moon button. The guardian drones have just started for the archway when the void wall washes down.
Ocellus turns to Yona. They need to get moving!
Teenk. Tunk.
The yak is a heap of hair and sorrow on the floor. The taste of Yona's love is gone. Her pride has collapsed, crashing down into self-pity. Ocellus feels a spike of panic. Sandbar and Yona have never talked about it, but their friends all know what happened at the Treehouse the night of the Amity Ball. Yona does not handle the feeling of failing her friends well.
Ocellus flies to her, nudging the yak gently with a hoof. "Yona. You need to get up now. Please, for me? We need to go."
Teenk. Tunk.
Yona's wet voice floats up from beneath the hooves hiding her face. "Ocellus deserves better friend than Yona."
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus closes her muzzle. There is no good response. Agreement -- not that she would ever agree -- would just reinforce Yona's self-hatred. In Yona's state, the nymph knows denial would likely be seen as Ocellus degrading herself. At best, that would just make Yona angry. Worse, it could come across patronizing. Neither would be productive.
Ocellus knows what will motivate her. And it kills the nymph to resort to it. She's already been so horrible to her friend, so manipulative, that sinking this low crosses every line that school has taught her.
"Yona," Ocellus pleads, "You have to come with me. If you don't, they'll capture you again."
Teenk. Tunk.
"Maybe that best." Yona's self-flagellation permeates every word.
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus puts on a cross expression. "Sandbar doesn't deserve that," she scolds. Every word feels like she is stabbing herself in the heart. "If you don't make it home, he will feel horrible! He'll miss you, and never have gotten to say goodbye. He might even wonder if you didn't follow me because he did something wrong. Don't do that to him."
Because the one thing guaranteed to get through to someone drowning in guilt is even more guilt. Ocellus empathizes with Yona's self-loathing. She's never been so ashamed to be herself.
Teenk. Tunk. The minute fork moves again.
Yona's hooves drop from her face. "Yona hurt too many friends," she says, getting up. "Won't hurt Sandbar too."
Ocellus leads Yona out, unable to look her friend in the eyes. The clock continues to tick.
"That was dirty trick," Yona finally says.
Ocellus watches the darkened hallways shift like a sliding puzzle, waiting for the side passage that will take them out of the ever-changing maze. At Yona's words, the nymph hangs her head.
"Yona understand why," the yak says after a long pause. "Thank you for not giving up on Yona."
Ocellus raises her head and looks back, giving her friend a weak smile. Her heart feels heavy, but the sound of Yona's voice sounding like her voice lifts the nymph's spirits a little.
Spider-print wallpaper peels from the walls with the sound of bandages being ripped off.
Ocellus tastes a nebulous whiff of emotion from her friend that she fights to analyze. She suspects concern. But it could just as easily be thankfulness, or half a dozen other things.
A hall bench splinters, collapsing in on itself.
Ocellus feels a flash of frustration. She can sense love in all its forms and variations, and she is adept at recognizing love-adjacent emotions -- anything that love plays a significant element in, really. But a step or two removed from that, and it was like looking at a shadow and trying to guess who it was.
The walls behind the wallpaper crack, collapsing in on themselves like an imploding fractal.
Ocellus smirks inwardly, considering how easy it would be to recognize Smolder's shadow as Smolder. Or Yona. Or Gallus. Not so easy with Sandbar. And as with most of her friends, some emotions were a lot easier to guess correctly than others, if generally by their context.
Whatever Yona is feeling is not so easy to determine. Especially when Ocellus cannot be sure if Pride has compromised the emotional framework of her friend. She cannot imagine how traumatic the experience has been. And unlike Smolder, Yona is not finding her own footing again so easily.
Carpets unfurl down into the gloom of the new passageway.
Tongues of dark adventurine seep up from the floor, wrapping about each other, twisting as they grow into standing torches. Their crowns bursting with azure flames, creating pools of cool light and darkened shadows.
The nymph peers down the new hallway, checking for any sign of drones. Or objects that might be drones. But the corridor is blanketed in darkness, the light of the torches like islands promising safety.
At the edge of one island of blue light, Ocellus spots a figure of black carapace -- a drone slumped against the wall. Asleep.
Ocellus nods her head, pointing towards the drone and lifting a hoof to her muzzle in the universal sign of being quiet. Yona nods back, the yak not needing the instruction, having fallen silent once again.
Ocellus walks forward slowly, her hooves sinking into the carpet. She doesn't want to fly. Even the beating of her wings might be loud in the tomb-like stillness.
The hallway is long and they move slowly, sliding from one pool of light to the next. Yona doesn't make a sound, and Ocellus finds herself looking back to make sure the yak is still with her. But she always is, her pained eyes reflecting the blue flames of the nearest torch.
Glumly, the nymph has to acknowledge the deeply painful likelihood that it may take weeks or even months for Yona to completely recover.
The still drone draws closer.
She wishes she could be there for Yona. The yak is going to need her friends like never before. But with a gut-wrenching sorrow, Ocellus knows she won't be. It would just mean letting Queen Elytra invade her world.
"Would you sacrifice yourself for a friend?"
Yes. In a heartbeat. The question seemed so much harder in the sunlight and safety of the Treehouse, alone with Smolder, her books and the floating motes.
Here in the cold and the dark, the question is so very easy. Her answer clear.
She stops as her ocelli catch a reflection in the dark just beyond the drone. A chasm forms in her stomach.
Yona bumps into her from behind, and Ocellus bites back a cry.
She looks back, seeing the yak's mouth open, an apology on her tongue. Ocellus waves her quiet, then motions for her to hold back.
Yona stops before she utters a sound. But continues to follow, seeming oblivious to the nymph's instruction. Together, they approach the slumped figure.
Ocellus feels her blood freeze.
The light of the torch glints off one of the empty moonsilver needles on the shadowed side of the corpse.
The walk back feels awkward and damaged.
Yona hasn't made a sound since the dark hallway. The large yak walks slowly, letting Ocellus set the pace. The cold and the sepulchral quiet only makes it easier for the nymph to lose herself in her own troubled thoughts.
On top of lingering pain from hearing her friend's use of "leeches" and "bugfriend", the direct threat to her hive by Queen Elytra, and all the horrible things she had to say to get Pride and get Yona to move, now Ocellus is haunted by the dead body of a drone.
There had been three empty needles. He had destroyed his own... eye.
"Ocellus?"
Ocellus only realizes that Yona has stopped walking altogether when her friend's voice calls to her from halfway down the hall. She turns in alarm, and is relieved to see only Yona. No attacking drones, no collapsing architecture, no royal jelly.
The nymph lifts off the carpet, flying back towards the yak, chiding herself for not paying better attention.
The yak looks up at her as she approaches. "Yona not think she better than her friends."
Ocellus immediately wants to say "I know that" -- to assure and comfort -- but the words catch in her throat.
Yona has a lot of pride: in herself, in her culture and in her people. None of that is bad. And it is a big part of who Yona is. But it is also why Yona and Pride worked so strongly together. How Pride was able to affect her so efficiently. Ocellus knows Yona is too smart not to realize these things herself. If Ocellus just tries to ignore that or blow it off, she may give her friend comfort now only to cause her more distress later. Putting all the blame on the anti-Element will fall apart under the light of Yona's introspection. And it will only cause her more pain if she believes Ocellus lied to her to spare her feelings.
Instead, Ocellus just nods.
She lands in front of Yona, reading the regret and nervousness in her friend's posture. Yona is staring back, searching for some sort of response. And that nervousness is mounting as Ocellus remains quiet. But the nymph is taking a moment to put her thoughts together. Like composing an essay for class; it is importing to say things right.
"Pride can be either good or bad, Yona," Ocellus says. "Your pride, usually, is a very good thing. But the magic rock grew that into something monstrous. That's not your fault. And I know that isn't how you really feel when you're not under the influence of an anti-Element."
Yona blinks. "Magic rock?" she asks. "But... Yona was like Cozy Glow said Yona is."
Ocellus immediately knows what her Yak friend is thinking about. Just before the Tree of Harmony tested them, Cozy Glow tried to undermine their friendships. Everypony know YAKS THINK YAKS ARE BEST! Making friends with any other creature must seem like a step down.
Even then, Ocellus could tell those words had hurt Yona. But Yona was the only one who didn't become quarrelsome or agitated with her friends because of Cozy's manipulations.
Ocellus also knows that Cozy Glow had been comically wrong in her attempts to manipulate Smolder -- she tried to play on the disdain she was so certain the dragon must have for cuteness and cute creatures, only to instead trigger Smolder's self-consciousness about liking cute things. Did Cozy Glow misfire with Yona as well? Ocellus now suspects that Yona had been worried that her friends might think she looked down on them.
Ocellus is quick to assure her otherwise. "You proved to all of us, and to the Tree of Harmony, that you aren't like that."
Yona's smile -- as well as the emotions that delight Ocellus' tongue like caramelized mushrooms in a garlic and brown sugar sauce -- tell Ocellus her guess would have at least gotten passing marks.
They begin to travel once more. The earthy taste of Yona's love becomes muted and muddied by other tangential emotions as the yak again falls silent.
After a few minutes, Ocellus turns to her friend and prods. "Yona?"
In response, Yona stares at the floor, looking despondent. The yak takes a deep breath, then lets it out shakily. "Friend Ocellus touch magic stone but not become like monster."
There is an aching pause. The yak lifts her head, her eyes wet. "Friend better than Yona?"
"NO!" Ocellus backs up in surprise and alarm. "Oh no no. I..."
She had touched Pride. Ocellus had resolved to grab the anti-Element and shove it in her saddlebag as fast as her body could move. Minimum contact, moving swiftly with intent to prevent Pride from sinking its darkness into her. That hadn't worked. The moment she took Pride in her teeth, she had felt... something. Something potent enough to make her stop, but foreign enough to keep her from losing her wits.
Ocellus sighs, hanging her own head as she lands. "No Yona. I think it didn't affect me the way it did you because I don't have enough of my own pride for it to corrupt. But that's not because I'm better than you," she insists, looking up into Yona's large, olive eyes. "The complete opposite of that. My lack of pride is unhealthy."
Yona stares at her, clearly mulling that answer over before asking, "Magic rock not make monster because Yona's friend sick?"
The nebulous taste from before was back again. It was definitely concern.
Ocellus feels relief as she flies into the final hall before the Throne Room and can hear Smolder and Gallus talking. Her own emotions are such an awful and muddy mix that she is looking forward to distracting herself with their banter.
Yona walks behind her as she flies, the yak having fallen silent yet again. This time, her quiet no longer seeps with despair, but Ocellus can tell she is a little reluctant to see her friends so soon after behaving the way she did.
Not only is she ashamed, but the nymph suspects Yona is worried about what she might tell them.
Ocellus intends on telling them nothing. Well, nothing about anything Yona said or did. Just that she has Pride now. And some of the things Queen Elytra said. But nothing personal. She has far too much of her own to keep her mouth shut about.
Smolder's voice echoes in the empty hallway, reaching them long before they are at the door. "I hate to be that dragon, but have you actually seen Luna?"
Ocellus slows, surprised. Her ears perk up.
"I've heard her," Gallus' voice follows, carrying well in the grave silence that fills the hall. "She talked to Ocellus through a broken mirror while we were escaping the fire'ling. Why?"
Yona smiles. "Yona hear friends." The sound of their voices has dispelled some of her gloom.
But instead of racing to the Throne Room doorway, Ocellus has slowed down.
A cheap clack. A soft squeaking sound.
"Drat," she hears Gallus say. "Your turn."
"Okay, good." Smolder's relief is audible.
Ocellus hears the griffon's signature snark. "You were worried she was only in Ocellus' head, weren't you?"
The changeling nymph stops. She lands, turning to better hear.
Smolder pointedly doesn't answer, instead asking, "So why has she never talked to us? I mean, I get not doing so when I was under the effects of Greed..."
Clack. Squeeakie.
"Score! ...I can't believe you made them squeak like that."
Yona has walked past Ocellus, but now she stops, looking back at the changeling questioningly. "Why friend stop?"
Gallus's voice greets their ears. "You know Pinkie will love it. As for Luna, I've got a theory on that. You're not going to like it."
Silence from Smolder.
Clack. Squeeakie.
"I think she thinks we're changelings."
Ocellus' mouth falls open. What? That... but...
Smolder manages to voice one of her "buts" better than Ocellus can think it.
"But isn't this place warded?"
"Yeah," Gallus replies. "Against enemies. Not against changelings. Otherwise, how could Ocellus get in? Your turn."
Yona walks back to Ocellus. She lowers her head and ask quietly, but with a hard tone, "Why we eavesdropping on friends?"
Fortunately, Gallus speaks for her. "Ocellus can taste our love," he points out. "Luna can't."
But Luna knows I can, Ocellus thinks. She knows I wouldn't be fooled.
"Of course, I could be totally wrong here. I've been wrong a lot today. But if I'm right..."
Then Luna doesn't trust me.
Smolder sees Ocellus the moment she steps into the room, her eyes lighting up. The dragon had been watching the door. Without taking her eyes off the nymph, the orange dragon girl excitedly calls to Gallus. "Ocellus is back!"
Gallus turns from examining the oil painting, a grin spreading across his beak at the sight of her, safe and apparently sound.
Ocellus steps aside, Yona walking in around her.
"YONA!" Smolder and Gallus cry out her name.
Yona takes the slightest step back as her two friends rush to hug her.
"It's good to see you, you smelly yak!" Gallus laughs.
Yona stammers. "Yona... happy to see friends!"
Their friends let go of the yak, each flying back an arm's length. They look to each other, then to Yona, wearing expressions of confusion and concern.
"You don't sound happy," Smolder points out.
"Yona, are you okay?" Gallus asks.
Yona backs up another step, rubbing one foreleg with another and looking at the floor. In a tone of heavy shame, she admits, "...Yona found strange magic rock and became monster."
Gallus' and Smolder's eyes widen. Then Smolder replies dryly, "Tell me about it."
Gallus nods sympathetically, "Yeah, Smolder found one of those, then tried to devour me."
Smolder glares at Gallus.
Yona looks up at her two friends in surprise. She stares, words failing her. For a moment. "...okay, Yona not that bad."
Smolder humphs. "Gee, thanks a lot."
Yona smiles. It is a frail smile, but a genuine one. Ocellus opens her receptors and tastes the love flowing within the friendship between them. An orchestral symphony of flavors melding into a delicious overture of taste.
Yona's love abruptly vanishes from the symphony. Ocellus looks at her, feeling a prickle of alarm. The yak is frozen, her eyes wide. Ocellus immediately knows where those eyes are staring. She remembers doing the same.
As the yak trudges toward the ogee arched window, staring out at the wasteland beyond, Smolder flies over to Ocellus. The dragon stops short of hugging to take in her state. Smolder makes a pained hiss. Ocellus doesn't need to taste what is coming off Smolder to know she is worried.
"I'm all right," Ocellus says, waving off the concern. "I'll be okay."
Smolder doesn't buy it, and shoots her a scolding look for trying to sell it. "Yeah, because that look in your eyes belongs on a creature who is all right. You look like Professor Fluttershy would a week after a forest fire."
Ocellus flinches at the metaphor. She doesn't want to talk about any of what she is feeling. Especially not her personal epiphany in front of the (then silent) grandmare clock. At least not here. Not now.
But the dragon staring into her won't let her just hide. So Ocellus does what she did earlier at the treehouse. She finds a substitute problem to sacrifice in place of her real ones.
Ironic, now that she thinks about it, how her sacrifice then turned out to be intimately connected to the problem she was avoiding talking about.
"We found a dead body," Ocellus tells Smolder. The young dragon cringes back at the news. Ocellus can hear the ruffling of feathers as her words draw Gallus' attention too. "A drone. It looks like he... over-needled."
Gallus' eye twitches. "Oh, I did not need to hear that."
"Yikes." Smolder lands, taking Ocellus by a foreleg. "That's... no wonder you look beaten." She bites her lower lip, her eyes flicking briefly to the side before returning to stare into Ocellus' face. "I don't suppose there's anything we can do to help."
Ocellus shakes her head.
Gallus lands next to them. "Okay, I know you want to save them all, but please tell me you're not blaming yourself."
Ocellus shakes her head again. It is a fair worry to jump to. She feels a little better knowing there is at least one web she didn't fly into. She puts on a smile, knowing it must look as weak as Yona's, and changes the subject.
"I bring gifts."
She loves how Smolder can't help but perk up, a smile sneaking onto her muzzle. Gallus merely raises an eyebrow.
"For you," Ocellus says, giving the griffon the royal jelly sprayer. "Since you lost your last one."
"Joy," Gallus snarks, taking the gift despite his feigned disgust. "Another vomit cannon."
Smolder looks at him and the sprayer, finally having visual context for his comment back in the dungeon. "Ah." The orange dragon gives him a cheeky smirk. "It suits you."
Before Gallus can retort, Ocellus pours out the moonsilver needles. The griffon goes rigid. "Ocellus..." he says warningly.
Ocellus shoots him a cross look. After what she just told them, can he really believe she would be tempted?
"Break these down with the columns," she tells Smolder. "Use them to create whatever you wish. Go nuts with gemstones."
"Almost anything," Gallus corrects for Smolder's sake. "You're going to need one for them to use as an example. Unless you have schematics for gemstones in your backpack." Gallus stops talking with the look of someone who knows he gave the wrong answer in class.
Ocellus looks to Smolder and notices she is not wearing her backpack. None of her supplies are with her.
"Yeeeeah," Smolder drolls. "My stuff didn't survive what I became back there."
Gallus pulls off his saddlepack. "Here. You can use mine as a blueprint. It won't fit like your pack, but the straps are adjustable. I bet you could make it work."
The conversation is interrupted by a fifth voice.
"Ocellus!" Luna calls out, emerging within the blackness of the Grand Mirror. "It is good you and your friend are safe. I'm afraid there is not much time..."
Ocellus nods. She predicted as much. "By taking Pride," Ocellus reveals, "I took Queen Elytra's food source."
Ocellus expected things to escalate the moment the changeling queen realized that. She just hoped to have more time.
Beside her, Smolder and Gallus are staring at the mirror, actually seeing Luna for the first time.
"Whoa," Smolder breathes. Then her eyes narrow.
Luna steps up to the border of the mirror, looking at her from just behind the surface. "Just before you got back, I felt the changeling queen draw a massive amount of essence. I'm afraid she's planning something big. You have to get Wrath before she can bring whatever she is doing to bear."
Ocellus pulls out her map. Wrath is supposed to be in the farthest part of the palace, in the essence pool room just beyond the Conservatory.
"Okay," Ocellus nods. Then pauses. "But before we go, I have some questions first. Some things still aren't adding up for me."
Luna blinks. Then nods. "Of course. I'll answer your questions as best I can, but please hurry."
Gallus immediately jumps in. "Why didn't anybody check to make sure this place was safe before the field trip?"
Ocellus asks the question that has been burning in her mind since coming here. "Why are there changelings on the moon?"
Smolder demands, "Why do you only talk to Ocellus?"
Luna looks frozen. Her eyes dart around. Then, instead of answering any of their questions, she whispers, "Hold on. Something is happening..."
From behind them, Yona cries out, "Wait, YONA ON THE MOON!?"
Gallus gives Ocellus a look. "How is that not the first thing you told her?"
Luna's image vanishes from the mirror. The mirror remains black.
Smolder frowns. "This can't be good." Ocellus' heart echoes the dragon's nervousness.
Another figure emerges from the inky blackness of the mirror.
Princess Twilight Sparkle smiles brightly at the four, all prize students of the School of Friendship she built before ascending to the throne of all Equestria.
"Hey kids!" The purple alicorn beams brightly, then looks over each of them as best she can from the confines of the mirror. "Are you all okay? Have any of you been hurt? We're going to have you home in just a moment. All of you!"
Yona, Gallus and Smolder all cheer, while Ocellus blinks in surprise. "Princess Twilight?"
Gallus pumps a fist. "YES!"
Smolder calls out eagerly, "Yeah, get us out of here!"
"Yona want to go home!"
Ocellus hears Luna's voice. "Twilight?" To Ocellus' ears, the night alicorn does not sound relieved. She sounds pensive.
Twilight waves a hoof at the darkness, as if motioning for Luna's voice to be quiet. She looks to the four students, smiling once again. "Your friends, Sandbar and Silverstream, came and got me as soon as they could." She pauses, then asides, "Well, they ran to get Starlight, but I was visiting her at the school..."
Silverstream and Sandbar are okay! Ocellus feels sunlight bathe her heart at the news.
"But..." Luna's voice again.
A frown plays over Princess Twilight's face. She turns to face the source of the voice, invisible in the mirror. The Princess' tone is apologetic but stern. "Sorry, Luna. Sandbar and Silverstream heard you talking to Ocellus. And I do understand, but we're not stranding a student on the moon. We've got another plan."
Beside her, Gallus mutters, "Wait, what!?"
Smolder rounds on Ocellus, waving her arms, her voice rising in exasperation. "Was there something you forgot to tell us about!?!"
Ocellus cringes back, her ears flattening against her chitin.
Twilight continues, "The mirror portal's connection to the Throne Room is breaking down, but it is just stable enough to send one more creature through." The purple alicorn turns back to the students, her words cutting through their drama. "We're sending someone to make sure you all get home safely and to destroy the portal. Somebody who volunteered to be left on the moon."
Ocellus' gasp is just one in a chorus.
This is Princess Twilight's plan!?? To trap someone else here instead? This is the only thing Twilight Sparkle could come up with?
Twilight frowns, clearly grasping the dimensions of their surprise and alarm. "It wasn't the solution I wanted, but it wasn't my decision. It was theirs."
Luna's voice sounds again from the darkness. "No! Twilight..."
Princess Twilight turns to the source of the voice, spreading her wings. "Luna, these are the students of other nations. This was a diplomatic situation."
Even as she says this, Twilight disappears from the mirror...
...and is replaced by Thorax. "Ocellus! There you are! Are you okay?"
Ocellus feels the moon fall out from under her. The pit in her stomach grows into a great abyss, yawning infinitely beneath her.
"Thorax!?" Ocellus cries out. She feels her tears forming behind her eyes. "NO! Don't tell me you're sacrificing yourself! The hive needs you!"
Thorax blinks, looking confused. "Uh, no... We sent Pharynx. He should already be there."
The Throne Room falls into a shocked quiet.
After a moment, Smolder breaks it. "Yeaaaah, the mirror portal hasn't exactly been sending creatures where it's supposed to."
Beside her, Gallus ruffles his feathers nervously. "Uh, Ocellus?" he says softly. "Two questions. Who is Pharynx?..."
"He's Thorax' brother," she answers quickly, her voice dropping low to meet her friend's. "He was the last changeling in the hive to change. He's in charge of the security of the hive."
Gallus takes a moment to absorb that. "...and what relationship might he have with Wrath?"
Ocellus' eyes go wide and her heart drops into the chasm beneath her.
Gallus sees Ocellus' reaction and turns to the mirror. "Equestria, we have a problem."
"Ocellus," King Thorax asks politely, "When you see Pharynx, tell him... tell him this is the most noble thing he has ever done. Tell him I am proud of him. And that I miss him already." The King pauses, wiping a tear from his eye. "Tell my brother that I already miss him. And that the hive will work day and night, along with Princess Sparkle, to find a way to get him home."
Ocellus nods numbly. Her world is chaos. Her thoughts are debris swirling in a hurricane.
From behind her, she hears a hurt voice. "Please tell Yona that Prince Rutherford not say: changeling problem, changeling must fix."
To her side, Gallus groans.
"You know Grandpa Gruff did," the griffon says bitterly as her friends build an idea of what went down in Princess Twilight's own throne room in Canterlot. Or wherever she talked to them. Knowing their former Headmare, the meeting may have happened by magic. But clearly Thorax and Pharynx made the trip. Or were teleported.
Ocellus numbly decides on teleported. Talking to their nation's leaders explains the delay, but there is no way her King and his brother could have flown from the hive to the Everfree Forest so quickly. The conclusion feels right to her because this rescue feels rushed. Like some creature panicked.
"No way!" Smolder fumes next to her. "Diplomatic my scales. I thought we were all past this!"
"H-Hey now," King Thorax interrupts. "We could only send one through. It made sense for it to be a changeling."
Someone who could pretend to be love-starved, Ocellus thinks. Like she did.
"Pharynx volunteered to do this. He protects the hive. All of us." Thorax looks pointedly at Ocellus before turning to Gallus. "And yes, he's angry that another evil queen has abducted a member of our hive and her friends, but I think wrath is going a bit far..."
Pharynx was already angry before he even got here?
Next to Ocellus, Gallus seems to have the same thought. "Oh, we are so screwed."
"Thorax, if I may?" the voice of Twilight Sparkle asks. Thorax turns to the blackness and nods, stepping away and vanishing into the dark.
Princess Twilight emerges, her features etched with concern. "Gallus, what did you mean? What problem?"
DOOM!
Something slams into the Throne Room from above. The ceiling becomes a mosaic of cracks. Ribbing snaps. Dust rains down from the fissures. The impact reverberates through the floor. Ocellus can feel it in her chitin.
Every creature stares upwards. Gallus raises a talon. "Make that two problems."
Gallus grabs a moonsilver needle from the pile, holding it like a weapon. Then immediately thinks better of it, tossing the needle to the far side of the room.
"Yona not like this!"
"The ceiling is warded too, right?" Smolder asks. "Nothing can get in here?"
DOOM!
Something deep inside Ocellus insists on turning the sound into that word.
The ceiling bows inward from the impact, chunks of stone raining down. Silvery white arcane symbols and ethereal lines flash across the ceiling, then dissolve like dissipating moonlight.
With a shout, Gallus shoots across the room, lion's strength and eagle's might meeting the almost immovable object, shoving Yona back as a segment of arched ribbing twice his size crashes down behind him.
More flashes erupt down the pillars and across the floor as overstrained wards flare into visibility, then burst. An eldritch cascade failure.
Smolder jumps into the air, backing up. She absently throws the strap of Gallus' saddlepack over her shoulder, freeing up her claws. Then swoops down to grab Ocellus.
With the third thunderous impact, the ceiling comes crashing down.
DOOM!
A bulbous black mass broils into the room on tall, spindly legs. It is an amorphous form of writhing, greasy black -- liquid chitin and the melted, ever-shifting forms of scores of changelings. The room fills with a horrid gurgling, sloughing sound. Like the entire population of the school suffering crippling indigestion.
And with the sound comes a foulness. Ocellus chokes, the acrid stench reminding her of a pyre of rotting pumpkins set ablaze a week after Nightmare Night.
One of its spindly, needle-like legs pierces Nightmare Moon's throne, cleaving it in two.
"What in Tartarus is that?!?" Smolder screams.
An obscenity. Ocellus has no other answer. She has never seen a horror like it.
But it has seen me.
Ocellus' terror-fractured thoughts tumble back to the dream.
The mirror in front of her is the last to go, standing stalwart against the apocalypse eating the world. Resolutely showing her absolute lack of reflection. Nothing but a void.
And just for a moment, she feels something staring back at her from deep within it...
...like something horrible waiting to be born.
A dire prophecy births itself in her head. Ocellus doesn't know where her understanding comes from, but she knows with certainty: If I taste it, I will die.
Queen Elytra's laughter mixes with the cacophony of screams and destruction. She lifts, rising from the top of the monstrosity.
"You asked for nightmares!" she proclaims, sitting atop the obscenity's back. "So I give you yours!"
Tentacles of oily smoke slither from the creature's bulk, lashing out, tearing apart the columns of the Throne Room.
Ocellus stares, rooted in place.
Like the tentacles that came out of the mirror.
A tentacle raises up, and Ocellus sees hundreds of changeling fangs swarming through It, melding together at Its tip to form a giant talon.
Ocellus screams as the Nightmare brings the talon down through the Grand Mirror, shattering it! Twilight's horrified face fractures into a hundred shards, then vanishes, the black fading to shadowy reflections of the Nightmare itself as the shards rain onto the floor.
Ocellus hears the great window being smashed. The reek of the monster is torn away. Smolder struggles to fly as a sucking wind pours through the ruins of the Throne Room, escaping. Ocellus turns in Smolder's grip, trying to see Yona and Gallus. But the mass of the collapsed roof and the bulk of the Nightmare itself fills the space between them.
"Gallus! Yona!"
As if in response, the horror opens its mouth. Rows of changeling drone heads bubble up where Its teeth should be. More hang down in the back of Its throat. They open their writhing mouths and cry out, hissing her name!
"Ocellussssssss!"
"Ocellusssssssssss!"
"Ocellussssssssssssss!"
The nymph briefly forgets how to breathe.
Love-starved drones pour into the room from above. Among them, Ocellus sees multiple Nightmare Moons.
Ocellus' muzzle opens, but her words are torn away as the monster lets out a primeval roar. All other sound is devoured by the flensing vortex of audio turbulence. All coherent thought is obliterated, leaving only primal flight screaming from her soul.
RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY! FLEE!FLEE!! FLEE!!!
They flee.
Ocellus doesn't remember much beyond her heart hammering in her chest so fast it hurt. The ringing in her ears. And the all-consuming panic. Raw, primordial terror.
It is a miracle that Smolder didn't drop her. Instead, the young dragon had clutched onto the nymph with enough strength to nearly cut off her air and flew!
Mindlessly, aimlessly flew! All that mattered in life was getting away, and she put every ounce of herself into it, ignoring the bundle of panicked writhing she was clutching to her breast.
The rooms and corridors they fled through are a meaningless blur. Ocellus vaguely remembers at one point flying with the drone swarm. The Nightmare's scream may have been meant to corral them into the waiting multitude of Queen Elytra's hive. But if so, the queen hadn't counted on the shriek of the Nightmare affecting every creature, including her loyal subjects.
They flew, and the Nightmare chased them! Ocellus remembers looking back once as they shot down some nameless corridor, seeing the monstrosity pour around a corner into the hallway, slouching towards them, thrusting Its spindly legs ahead of it and into the walls. The Nightmare moved like a giant spider in a mudslide -- except not mud but of bluish-black smoke and liquified, black-carapace bodies.
Ocellus' heart is still hammering, her breathing ragged. She feels painful bruises in the shape of Smolder's arms beneath her chitin. The gothic couch that Smolder dumped her onto is spinning. Or is that the whole moon?
The internal screaming to run away has fallen silent. In its passing, the trepidatious fragments of thoughts crawl out of their hiding places, cautiously testing, timidly moving towards each other, forming coherence.
The couch reluctantly slows. The ringing in her ears has faded to a simple deafness that itself is bleeding away.
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus lifts her head off the couch, taking in the room around her. The drawing room is familiar. The cloudy-white wallpaper, peeling and oddly-stained. Ornate lamps of polished adventurine and moonsilver, tipped with figurines of Nightmare Moon. And, of course, the grandmare clock.
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus looks over the back of the couch. An open archway, the two stained-glass doors resting crumpled and broken on the floor of the next room. Recognition floods through her.
"Let's get out of this room before that clock drives me crazy." Gallus sets down the lantern and grabs the double doors by both handles.
Ocellus' eyes widen as the light from the lantern shines through the stained glass. She can see the shattered remains of two more stained glass doors laying in the next room. "Gallus...!"
Smolder flumps into a chair opposite her, breathing in great gasps. The dragon looks alarmingly exhausted. But there is fire in her eyes.
"What the hell, Ocellus!?" Smolder wheezes.
Ocellus' mind quickly fills with all the things Smolder could be upset at her about. The list is absolutely dominated by her no-longer-secret quest to strand herself on the moon.
Was there something you forgot to tell us about!?!
Teenk. Tunk.
The orange dragon gives a flick of her tail in an expression that is somewhere between resentment and exasperation. "That's what your nightmares look like?" Smolder huffs a puff of flame. "What happened to tests for classes you forgot to attend?"
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus blinks, taken off-guard. "I-I still have those t-too." The nymph protests, "I only had that one once!" Somewhat reluctantly, she adds, "Last night."
Teenk. Tunk.
Smolder stares at her. "I figured your nightmares were probably related to your identity problem, but that... that shifting... thing... with all the bodies... That's deeply messed up!"
The dragon sits up in the chair, spreading her arms. "Forget not talking to us about it! You needed to be talking to Luna!" Smolder asserts fiercely.
Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus stares back like a caught animal, her ears back.
"Th-that... Ocellus... That is not an okay thing for someone I care about to be dreaming!"
Teenk. Tunk.
Smolder clenches her muzzle shut, covering it with her claws as the Nightmare sends a howl echoing through Envy's wing.
Ocellus sees the dragon's wings pull tight against herself, the girl's body going rigid. The nymph feels icicles form throughout her own bloodstream.
Neither move.
Teenk. Tunk. Teenk. Tunk. Teenk. Tunk.
Ocellus tries to take the smallest, quietest breaths possible.
They wait, ears straining for any sound of the Nightmare coming closer. The silence is as taut as a bowstring.
Tunk. Teenk. Tunk. Teenk. Tunk. Teenk.
Finally, Ocellus dares the softest whisper. "We need to move before it corners us. You flew hard; do you want me to carry you?"
Smolder shakes her head.
"Crawl. Keep low," Ocellus suggests, slipping off the couch and pressing herself against the carpeting. She watches Smolder follow suit.
The two friends crawl to the archway, then take to the air just long enough to fly over the broken stained-glass of the shattered doors.
They move carefully, pressed to the floor, keeping behind sofas and under tables. Ocellus considers the ducts above, but she remembers the overgrowth of vines. She does not want either her or Smolder getting ensnared and trapped.
Room. Hallway. Room.
They can hear the Nightmare moving about the wing, searching for them. Searching for her.
Ocellus sees lime light flowing around the corner. They are almost to where she found Gallus.
The lovebug stops as she recalls the One True Broom. She feels a strong urge to cuss, and instead reflects on her hives' evident lack of vulgar argot.
We don't even have our own swears! No wonder Gallus thought of us as harmless.
"What?" Smolder asks in a hush tone, dismayed by Ocellus' expression.
"If I had a broom handle, we could put up the void wall. That should trap the Nightmare in this wing..." She pauses. For how long? After what it did to Nightmare Moon's Throne Room, Ocellus doubts It won't just rip Its way out through a wall. "...long enough to get a good lead. Maybe even lose it."
"And you need a broom for that?" Smolder questions with just a touch of snark.
Ocellus debates how to explain the moon button puzzles, but a not-so-distant sloughing sound tells her they don't have the time. She condenses it to, "I can't reach the button."
Smolder's eyes shift left. Then she twists and digs into Gallus' saddlepack. She draws out his toy crossbow. "Will this do?"
Ocellus feels herself smiling.
Her smile dies as the sloshing sound of the Nightmare grows louder. She hears Queen Elytra's voice coming from the room at the near end of the hall, taunting her.
"You cannot escape your own Nightmare, Ocellus." Her voice is raised, but the queen isn't laughing. She isn't cackling like Queen Chrysalis would. Instead, she sounds like she's having a pleasant conversation. "No matter where you run, no matter what form you hide in, It will find you."
Electric shivers pulse through Ocellus. She spreads her elytra, discarding stealth for speed. Her wings hum softly as she lifts from the carpet, flying around the corner and into the razor-maze of the resin-bomb hallway.
Ocellus lands immediately, folding her wings protectively into her elytra, unwilling to fly through that.
The shifting, sliding sound of liquid bodies grows louder and louder. The Nightmare spills into the hallway behind them, thrashing out with Its legs. From Its back, Queen Elytra almost purrs.
"It knows how you taste!"
The implication of Queen Elytra's words strikes Ocellus hard. The nymph grabs her dragon, the turquoise energy of her collision barrier forming in front of her.
Ocellus comets down the corridor, smashing through the jungle of razor-sharp resin.
Her aim is slightly off. The speeding nymph tears a chunk from the doorway at the end of the hall, shooting into a bedroom. She demolishes a gothic four-poster bed then slams into a wall, gouging a path along it before skipping off and slamming into the adjacent wall. Hard. She drops to the floor, dazed, Smolder rolling from her grasp.
Ocellus wobbles, standing up shakily. Her first glance is to Smolder, seeing the dragon unharmed and staring at her. Probably wondering what exactly she just did. Like Gallus had. Ocellus had never, ever intended to use that ability again. Now she has done it thrice in one night.
"Ocellusssssssss!!"
"Ocellussssssssssss!!"
The nymph looks back across the wreckage of her flight. The Nightmare barrels down the hall after them, Its amorphous form oozing around the remaining stalactites and stalagmites of resin, slowed by them but unhurt.
"This way!" she cries to Smolder. "We're almost there!"
Ocellus spreads her wings, flying out a familiar door and into an even more familiar hallway. Through a familiar arch and to the pedestal hiding the moon-button. "Smolder!"
She turns to see Smolder pulling up to hover above her, holding the toy crossbow. Behind them, the Nightmare is writhing out of the bedroom.
Ocellus points. "There."
Smolder shoots. The sponge bolt misses the hole, hitting the column's capital and bouncing with a cute squeak.
The sound of the Nightmare fills the hallway.
Ocellus grabs for it, snatching the bouncing bolt and tossing it back to Smolder. She looks back, and her eyes widen.
The Nightmare halfway to them. Queen Elytra is grinning.
It moves so fast, closing the distance.
Smolder fires again.
The void barrier swims across the hall like an oil spill. Severing four ponies worth of the Nightmare's forward mass and one of It's slender, needle-like legs.
Smolder and Ocellus watch, barely remembering to breathe, as the disconnected mass of changeling flesh breaks apart, spilling across the floor in a wash of ebony gore -- forelegs and heads, hearts and other internal organs soaking in a pool of crude oil -- that bubbles and hisses before decomposing into blue smoke. One of the heads opens its mouth, screaming without sound as it dissolves, its tongue the last gobbet to perish into smoke.
They cannot hear the Nightmare howl from the other side of the void. But they can feel the architecture shake.
"You win."
Smolder flaps her wings slowly, hovering over Ocellus as she checks the mirror, then the opposite supply closet. The nymph looks at her questioningly.
"I thought I had some frightening dreams," the dragon admits as she hovers before the darkening mirror. "But that... I'm going to have nightmares about your nightmares for the rest of my life."
"Thank goodness you two are all right," Luna's voice announces from the mirror.
"Aaagh!" Smolder shoots up, clinging to the ceiling between vaulted ribs.
Ocellus hides a smile and feels a little guilty at having enjoyed that. Her brief joy is replaced with a cascade of worries, and she flies up to the mirror, seeking Luna.
The darkness has already faded. But as she watches, the shadows deepen again. The mirror does not grow fully black, and Luna's voice is ghostly as it emerges from the mirror without her accompanying visage.
"Do not despair: Gallus and Yona are alive and whole as well. I will guide them to the Oculus Room, so long as the connection does not fail completely..."
Her voice fades out, the shadows dimming for a moment.
"Oculus Room?" Smolder asks, confused. Ocellus looks up. The orange-scaled dragon is still clinging to the ceiling, albeit in a slightly more relaxed manner.
"It's where the anti-Elements have to be to form their portal to Equestria," Ocellus explains, recalling Luna's description while she drew her map. Grimly, she adds, "They aren't like Luna's mirror portal. By destroying the Grand Mirror, Queen Elytra only kept Equestria from sending more creatures here."
Smolder ahs. "Have you been there?"
Ocellus shakes her head. "No, but it's on my map." Her wings buzz. Anxiety grips her, squeezing tighter with every passing second of silence from the mirror. "It's actually outside. A giant, enclosed gazebo..."
Her description is cut off as Luna's voice becomes audible again. "...greenhouse to the essence pool. Save Pharynx from Wrath if you can."
Ocellus quickly shouts, "What happened to Thorax? What about Princess Twilight?"
"...fled into the Everfree Forest." The shadows deepen, becoming the color of soot. Luna's face appears, flickering.
"The magical terror that beast unleashed was extremely powerful," Luna tells them. "It traveled back through the shards of the mirror. I would have fled too, had Twilight finished freeing me from this cocoon before the attack. They will be back soon, I am sure. But without the Throne Room mirror, Twilight Sparkle's plan is over."
Ocellus opens her receptors, then stretches out a hoof. She doesn't want to be suspicious of Luna, even if Luna apparently doesn't trust her. Or, at least, not fully.
Ocellus cannot taste Luna's love. But she knows that means nothing. Tasting Luna's love would prove it was her. But the absence does not prove otherwise. This would be a strange time to feel love. Neither she nor Smolder were...
"HEY!" Smolder shouts, dropping down from above. "You're going to talk to me this time!"
Ocellus tastes spice and cinnamon and Canterlot Red peppers.
"Why haven't you been helping Ocellus with her dreams?!" Smolder demands. "You saw that thing Queen Elytra pulled out of her nightmares!"
Ocellus recalls the conversation about vices. Righteous wrath indeed.
"I don't..." Luna reels, shocked. Confused. Hurt. "I-I..."
A black dawn breaks across Ocellus.
"She doesn't know," Ocellus says. "Luna can't remember because Queen Elytra stole the memory of my nightmare from her to create her Nightmare."
Luna stops, gathering her thoughts. More calmly, she answers, speaking to Ocellus. "You are correct. I cannot know for certain. But I believe I intended to use the nights of the field trip to try to help you. I... feel that was my intention, even though I cannot remember it being so."
Even as she talks, the black begins to fade, the connection weakening.
"Now that I am no longer a Princess, the creatures of Equestria are no longer my subjects. While I have the power to, I no longer possess the right to enter the dreams of whomever I choose."
Luna's face vanishes, but her voice remains, turning otherworldly as the connection degrades before collapsing.
"I must..." Luna's voice fades away, only to return, weaker than before. The shadows continue to fade. "...world and ask their permission."
Smolder and Ocellus look at each other.
"...consent is but one of many concessions..."
The mirror is just a mirror.
Smolder stares at the mirror, her arms hanging at her sides. "Th-that was..."
"Let's move on?" Ocellus suggests.
Smolder nods heartily. "At least Gallus and Yona are safe."
She doesn't say because that thing isn't hunting them. Nor, thankfully, does she add for now. Ocellus considers the dragon's restraint an act of kindness.
The changeling nymph and the dragon girl reach the T-junction beyond the supply closet. To their left, a single wall sconce on the far wall sputters to life. To their right, blue flame erupts from one on the near wall. Another alights much farther into the darkness.
Ocellus frowns. The first time she came through here, more than a third of the wall sconces were still functional. Now, less than a fourth.
Pretty soon, the entire palace would be swallowed in darkness.
"Oh!" Ocellus perks up and motions for Smolder to turn around. As soon as the dragon does so, the nymph opens Gallus' saddlebags and starts rummaging through. The startling dearth of school supplies makes Ocellus feel like she is exploring some strange, forbidden land. Snacks, his character folder, a few stray bits. Greed and Envy, each wrapped in notebook paper and stuffed into sandwich bags from the lunch Headmare Starlight had packed for them...
Ocellus beams happily as she pulls out her lantern. "Oh gosh. I was beginning to feel bad about leaving my little friend behind!"
Smolder turns, looking at her with an incredulous expression. Ocellus barely notices as she pushes the lantern's button and watches the blue flame ignite. The nymph gives a little clap with her hooves.
"Speaking of..." Smolder grumbles.
Ocellus picks up the lantern in her mouth.
"What's this about you stranding yourself on the moon?" Smolder asks crossly. "What kind of plan was that?! And were you even going to tell us? Or just leave us to wonder if something horrible happened to you when you didn't come through before it closed?" Well, more horrible.
Holding a lantern in your mouth is a wonderful excuse not to say anything.
The walls shake. The floor trembles. They can feel the reverberation shudder through them.
Smolder looks up at the ceiling as if expecting the sound of doom followed by roiling, spilling blackness.
Ocellus sets down her lantern. "It's not about to come in," Ocellus whispers. "It's tracking me by my love."
It knows how you taste!
Smolder stares at her friend in horror.
Ocellus puts up a hoof. She is remembering being blown out onto the regolith. "The air inside is sealed off from the air outside." Even with the Nightmare tearing down a wall, only the wing beyond the void barrier is compromised. "Even if It was right above us on the roof, it couldn't detect me while we're inside and It's outside."
That won't be the case for long. They need to go.
Smolder points a claw. "Don't think you're off the hook. We're going to have a long talk about this." The walls shake again. "Later. When all this is over, and that... thing isn't hunting you anymore."
Yes, Ocellus thinks as she nods penitently. Later, when you and the others are home safe. And I'm still on the moon.
"Anyway, let's go." Smolder turns and marches off down the left hallway.
"Uh, Smolder...?"
The dragon girl stops.
"Other way."
Smolder spins around. "Right." The dragon marches back past Ocellus.
Ocellus watches, the smile on her lips a reflection of the sentiment filling her breast, strong enough that releasing it would make her glow.
Smolder is infuriated with her. She's being hunted by a horrific monster forged from her own nightmares. Their one place of safety has been destroyed. Their connection to Luna is dying. And her King's brother is here and needs to be rescued from Wrath.
...and yet as she watches the dragon stomp off, she feels a warmth inside her. Like hot soup on a freezing winter day, with whispers of euphoria. Ocellus can taste the love in Smolder's anger. She knows why the dragon is hurt. She hates having caused that pain. But Smolder's fury feels more like a healing balm than tearing claws.
Ocellus picks up her lantern again. Ocellus' wings flutter, lifting her into the air. She follows, quietly letting a few wisps of her feelings towards the dragon flow, knowing Smolder cannot taste them.
They are not strong enough and freely given enough to be seen. But despite the dead sconces, the hallway doesn't seem quite as gloomy as it did moments ago.
Smolder grunts, pushing against the double doors with all her might (which, considering Smolder once created a rock sculpture through punches and kicks, is impressive) but the doors refuse to budge. Ocellus suspects the changelings have begun sealing doors with resin to box them in. They might be learning from Gallus.
Ocellus focuses on Smolder and the door, intentionally not looking at the worst room in the history of rooms. If she did, her already traumatized heart would simply break. She would collapse in tears. Smolder would have to carry her or she'd stay here forever. In a huge library full of books. All in Old Ponish.
Gothic bookshelves decorated in motifs of ponies worshipping the moon are filled with a rich plethora of books, from the carpeted floor to the ogee-arched ceiling. When they flew into the room. Smolder had warned the books that she would set them on fire if any of them were a changeling. Then flew straight for the door. Ocellus almost wishes they were changelings so they wouldn't be books she can't read.
"Urgh!" Smolder gives up, sliding down the doors, her claws leaving little grooves. The orange dragon girl comes to rest on the purple and rose carpet (interlaced abstractions of bats) and thumps her head against the doors, her horns digging notches.
"Ocellus, can we stop?"
Ocellus flies up to her, nodding. Which Smolder cannot see. "S-sure. If you need to." This is not the room she wants to linger in. But if Smolder needs a break, the nymph won't say no. Ocellus wonders if she should take one of the standing torches and beat at the bookshelves.
Smolder turns around, sitting with her back and wings against the door. "I'm angry. I can't risk getting near Wrath like this." The dragon looks up, pointing a claw at Ocellus and giving her a frown. "And before you think it: no. You're not going alone."
Smolder draws her knees up against her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "I just need a few moments to calm my fire."
Ocellus nods, this time with her friend able to see her do so. "I'd offer a relaxing tea, but this isn't the right time or place for a tea party," she says, hoping a little levity will help. "Plus, we're not dressed for it."
"Can't have tea if you're not dressed for it," Smolder agrees with a weak grin. "Also, we don't have any tea. Or a tea set." Aside from standing torches, the library's only furnishings are a lounge couch, a reading table and a chair.
Ocellus agrees. "And if we did, I wouldn't trust the cups."
The two friends share a short laugh. It is rough, with too many unpleasant emotions getting in the way of true laughter. But it is a start.
Ocellus looks away for a moment, her ocelli finding the only safely bookless part of the room: a large fireplace of onyx stone. The frame above the mantle holds a few shards of a shattered mirror. When she first saw that, she tried calling for Luna in the shards. The fragments of mirror remained reflective.
"Your fire is justified," Ocellus admits.
Smolder snorts. "Yeah. No?" She holds out a claw. "Look, I remember. While you were gone, it was all I could think about. Your greatest fear was that you would become a love-starved changeling again. But when that was the only way to get us home, you dragoned up and became one..."
Smolder pauses, then tries to clarify, "A love-starved changeling, not a dragon. I didn't mean... that's just... dragons say that." The look in her eyes pleads for Ocellus to say she understands before it gets anymore awkward.
Ocellus flinches at the memory but gives Smolder a little smile. "I know what you meant."
The dragon girl breathes a huff of relief. "Good. Because that was the bravest thing I've ever seen."
Ocellus feels her heart purr. It pains her to correct the praise. "I didn't become a real love-starved drone," Ocellus points out. "I just took the form of one."
Smolder nods. "I know. But you just took the form of Chrysalis in the catacombs and that was like your worst nightmare come to life."
She stands, looking earnestly at Ocellus. "The point is, this place is putting us all through Tartarus and back, but it seems to have a special focus on making every nightmare you have come true. This last one literally."
Ocellus swallows, unable to argue.
"And while I hate some of the things you've done and the secrets you've kept," the dragon says, not pausing when the word hate makes Ocellus flinch, "I have no right to be pissed off at you when you're holding it together better than any creature should. And being a pretty amazing friend." Under the circumstances.
Ocellus feels a crushing weight lifted even as her strength is sapped away. The nymph collapses to the carpet. "Th-thanks." She shivers, more from the frigid air and the cold carpet than all the things trying to haunt her mind.
Smolder watches her a moment, then stomps over to the nearest bookcase, tearing an armload of random books from a shelf. The young dragon hurls the books into the open fireplace and breathes a gout of draconic flame.
"Smolder!?" Ocellus gasps. Just because she couldn't read them does mean it was okay to burn books!
Smolder stands before the crackling orange flame, holding her claws towards it. "It's freezing in here. And I'm sick of blue light."
Smolder sits down next to her, tapping a claw on her elytra. "Open up." Her voice is quieter than before. Gentle.
Blushing, the nymph obliges, exposing her wings and back. Making herself vulnerable to the dragon. A moment later, she feels the warm prickling of Smolder's claws playing down her back. Her wings tremble.
"Feeling ticklish?" Smolder asks.
"A little."
Ocellus lets the intimate little clawstrokes caress her into relaxation. She closes her eyes...
The image of the dead drone plays against her closed eyelids. His left eye has burst open from too many needles, the liquid of his eye having oozed down his face and frozen there.
Ocellus' wings flinch, her muscles tensing. Her eyes shoot open.
Smolder draws her claw away. "Did I prick you?"
"N-no. Please, don't stop."
"O-okay." The claw returns, a little more cautiously than before.
Ocellus sighs, letting Smolder's touch melt the tension. She stares into the fire -- Smolder's fire -- and lets its dance soothe her nerves. A silly part of her mind decides that this fire is part of Smolder, only in book form.
Her thoughts drift. She remembers laying before the grandmare clock. (Which was not ticking.) Her epiphany. Ocellus cannot remember the last time she truly felt like an individual.
"Smolder? Can I ask you something... strange?"
Smolder is a dragon who likes tea parties and dresses, whose best friends include a pony and a changeling, who behaves with honesty and kindness, loyalty and even generosity. She is not like other dragons and she knows it.
Ocellus knows Smolder hides some of that from everyone but her. She embraces other things that set her apart. She cares about dragons, but she doesn't let what a lot of dragons think a dragon should be decide who she is. She is one of the most individual creatures Ocellus has ever known.
Smolder gives her a very slight, friendly prick with a claw tip. "Other than that? Yeah, I think we're already way past strange."
"How do you know when you are acting like yourself and not just how people want you to act?"
Smolder is quiet a moment, thinking about that.
Ocellus looks over at her friend. The azure light of her lantern backlights the dragon girl in cool colors, highlighting her wings, the curve of her back and tail. The leaping flames in the fireplace paint her front and face in warm, quivering light. In between is darkest shadow.
"Mostly I just do," Smolder finally says. "If I'm doing something I know is right, or that I enjoy, it feels good. It doesn't matter if everybody wants me to do it or nobody does."
Ocellus asks, "And you never worry that you are letting what other creatures want you to be determine who you are?"
Smolder laughs. "That seems like a lot of work. As long as I'm not being selfish or harmful or a jerk, I do what makes me feel good about myself."
The dragon turns towards Ocellus, the warm and cold light shifting across her body. "The school has taught me lessons that make me feel a whole lot better about myself than I used to. I've got friends. New people I care about and who accept me for me. You most of all, Ocellus."
Her claw had paused. But now it continues, dancing between Ocellus' wing muscles. The sensation fills her with a pleasant, tingling warmth that she never wants to lose.
"On one claw, I'm not going to start acting differently to get you to like me more, because it wouldn't be me you are liking," Smolder insists. "On the other, I'm not going to stop being friendly because I'm worried creatures prefer a friendly dragon. Doing something just because it isn't what other creatures want is just as stupid."
Ocellus stares into Smolder's eyes, her heart open.
Smolder contemplates the nymph before her. "Is this part of the identity struggle you told me about?"
Ocellus nods quietly.
Smolder's claws begin to stroke. "I don't know if this helps, but I like you for you. You are a brave, kind, gentle, smart..." Smolder smirks, "...dorky stressbug of wonderful. And I don't think any of that is because I like those things, cuz you were all of them before you met us."
Ocellus sticks out her tongue at dorky stressbug. "But how can you be sure? How can I be sure?"
"I can't," Smolder admits honestly. "But if I'm wrong, I'm glad you err on the side of being like you are."
Ocellus feels a spike of regret and longing and loss as Smolder's claws pull away. The dragon turns to face the fire she created. There is a sudden heaviness in her voice. "Creatures use 'being themselves' as an excuse for everything from rudeness to murdering children. None of which is okay."
Ocellus feels a shock rip up her spine. Murdering children? Where did that come from?
Smolder continues, "If you act like a jerk or a villain, it doesn't matter how individual you are being. You deserve what you get. And in some cases, what you deserve is getting your face clawed off."
Ocellus feels stunned. Somehow, this conversation careened into a very dark place. She can see the anger behind Smolder's eyes. There is something personal about this.
Smolder's expression softens. She turns away, her tail dragging on the ground. "Besides, most creatures who use 'being themselves' as an excuse to behave badly really aren't being themselves at all."
Ocellus scrambles to follow. "What do you mean?"
Smolder sighs heavily then turns to look back at her. "I mean they're doing it out of peer pressure. Or because someone they like does the same thing. Or told them this was the way to be better than... whatever bunch of creatures they want to think they're better than."
The dragon takes a few moments, her eyes shifting left and right. Ocellus knows Smolder well enough to know she is trying to find an example that isn't dragons.
"They're like redcaps."
Ocellus recalls Professor Fluttershy's class. Redcaps were nasty, violent, brutish and foul. The kind pegasus rarely had bad things to say about any creature. But even she just warned the class away from the goblins living in the forest bordering the Dragon Lands.
Smolder turns around to fully face Ocellus. The nymph sits up, closing her elytra over her back and wings.
"I ran into a pack of them once," Smolder tells her. "They attacked -- like they always do -- but I'm a dragon. We're not easy prey. Grabbed one of them and stuck him on a ledge. He went on and on about how being cruel and vicious and mean was just who he was. Claimed he didn't have to conform to 'our rules' and play nice. Then his pack climbed up to join him. And you know what he was? Just one of a bunch of redcaps all acting exactly the same."
She had never heard the dragon sound so unimpressed.
Ocellus doesn't think she's any closer to feeling like her own self, or even knowing how. But Smolder has a point. Rebellion against the hive for the sake of rebellion isn't individuality. It is just a new way of choosing her actions based on them. And rejecting compassion and tact isn't embracing yourself. Being impolite wouldn't make her a better creature, just a worse one.
If she is going to ever see Ocellus in the final mirror, she cannot measure herself in contrast to others any more than she can mold herself in their image.
A stray thought occurs to her. She raises her eyebrows.
"Of course, you know I bet even redcaps can have actual individuals who break out of their... hive-society." She felt so odd using that word that way. But it was accurate, wasn't it? "One of these days, you might meet the Thorax of the redcaps."
Smolder snorts, taking the jab at her expense. "Wouldn't that be something." The dragon thinks about it a moment more, then grins. "Hey! There's your answer. What do real individuals look like? They look like Ember and Thorax. Creatures who found a better way and took it, even before any creature around them accepted it."
Ocellus blinks. She drinks that in, slowly smiling. Nodding.
"I catch glimpses. Edges of the shape. I feel as though it wants to come through... onto my side. I have to turn off the glass before it sees me but I always wake before I can."
Smolder shifts, moving closer to the fireplace. "Ocellus, are you seeing this?"
Behind the orange flames, a circular plate of black metal hangs on the stonework. It could not be seen in the dark pit of the fireplace, but with Smolder's cozy fire, the plate's polished ebony reflects the dancing firelight.
Words have begun to appear on the plate, glowing as if etched with molten lava. Well, not words exactly, Ocellus realizes as she peers at them through the crackling fire. Rather, the plate is inscribed with figures, diagrams and lines of equations.
Smolder reaches through the fire, grabbing the hot metal plate and tugging at it. The circular plate comes free of the spike it is hanging on. The dragon pulls the plate out of the fireplace, looking at the incomprehensible glowing marks.
"Ocellus?" she admits, "This looks more like something you might understand."
Ocellus smiles beatifically. "It's a plan." At Smolder's raised eyebrow and smug I-knew-you-would expression, Ocellus explains. "The dark essence crafting pillars use those to make things."
"What does this one make?"
Ocellus studies the figures and equations. Everything is in Old Ponish, but she has seen a plan like this before.
Ocellus lifts the drawer in her forelegs until the lantern's light reveals the engravings on the underside. What a bizarre place to hide a plan. She might have realized the true nature of the oil painting in the Throne Room, but would never have found this one on her own.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think this one makes anything directly," Ocellus tells her curious friend. "I think it alters or enhances something else. It looks similar to the plan for the protective lining on my saddlebags and Gallus' pack."
Smolder flips the plate over. The underside is unmarked.
Ocellus wonders how many other hidden plans she has passed by. Without Smolder's act of kindness, she would never have found this one. She revisits her earlier questions: is there any sort of clue to help find these?
Ocellus looks up at the broken mirror over the mantle. Considering the three plans she knows about, the narrowest common thread she can think of is that they were all near a mirror. Two were hidden below one. The oil painting was not, but it was also the least hidden and in a room with a much bigger mirror.
Smolder interrupts her reverie. "We passed a set of creation pillars just down the hall. Want to head back and see what this makes? I haven't heard your hunter in a while. It's probably still outside."
Ocellus can't help but think that is both good and bad. It allows them a much needed respite. But once they save Pharynx and get Wrath, they need to get the anti-Elements to the Oculus Room. Luna is already guiding Yona and Gallus there.
Which means she and Smolder will have to go outside. And that will bring the Nightmare down on them again at the worst possible time.
She nods to Smolder. Remembering why she not only had to get the drawer of the hall stand but also its contents, Ocellus asks, "But what will we break down for dark essence?"
Smolder looks around. "We've got plenty of books."
Ocellus lets out a little whine of dismay, feeling like she's been stabbed in the heart with a very thin needle.
"You're being silly," Smolder grunts, her arms loaded with books and the black plate strapped to her tail. "You know that, right?"
Ocellus doesn't answer. She has her lantern in her mouth, saving her from explaining why she's not willing to carry the books on the long walk to their execution.
Her little friend has again gone from convenient to needed. Only three of the sconces in the long hallway are lit, and their fires are weak, barely illuminating the walls opposite them.
Ocellus pauses as she reaches a particularly nasty stain in the wall. She hovers, nearing it, letting the lantern's blue light illuminate the depths of its decay.
Spots of ashen mold speckle the deep discoloration that has soaked the wallpaper. In the heart of the stain, the paper has split, revealing the woodwork beneath. The wood itself has rotted, sinking in. Small beads of whitish liquid seep from the deepest part of the rot, running down and pooling on the floor. As if the wall is bleeding glue.
"That stain another of those healing ghosts?" Smolder asks, stopping and setting down the books long enough to stretch her arms. "Are you hurt?"
Ocellus puts down the lantern, looking at the small pool of white gunk. "I'm not," she lies, not wanting to mention the bruising beneath her chitin from Smolder's panic. "Which is good because I don't think this one works anymore." She looks up at it again. "On the other hoof, at least I can tell Gallus what the white stuff is now."
"What white st-"
The three lit sconces die simultaneously, plunging the hallway into darkness.
Ocellus scoops up her lantern. She hears the stack of books topple behind her, hit by a dragon's tail.
Smolder hisses under her breath, "I wish this was just Discord messing with us."
Ocellus lifts the lantern, turning slowly, trying to see anything. Or any creature.
Nothing down the hall to the left.
But there should be. Even if the sconces failed, there should still be orange light pouring out of the library. Right?
Ocellus turns to the right. The lantern illuminates the black form of a changeling sitting in the hallway, its back to them.
No. The hallway is empty.
"Uhhhh..." Smolder breathes. "Did you?"
Just see that?
Ocellus nods, shaking her lantern. The shifting light glints off something in the darkness ahead.
"Forget the plate," Smolder insists. "I'm done with this hallway. ...Wait, what is that?"
The thin gleam of moonsilver seems to stretch slowly. The light of the lantern catches the bulb. It's a needle. Floating in the air. Rotating.
Aiming right for her eye.
Ocellus throws herself to the floor, dropping her lantern. The needle whisks above her, shooting through the space her head had just been, stabbing itself into the stain.
Ocellus looks up to see the swirling blue smoke pour out into the wall.
Smolder reacts, breathing fire in the direction the needle attacked from. As Ocellus stands again, Smolder sends another gout of flame across the wall, setting the wallpaper on fire, illuminating the hallway in flickering orange light.
There is a shape in the hallway. Like the black carapace of a drone, hunched and melted.
The melted carapace twists, turning its featureless head towards them. Staring back at them with a single eye. The right eye. The left is missing.
The screaming image of a lifeless drone flashes through Ocellus' mind -- its ethereal head flying at her face, its mouth open in an eternal shriek, its left eye burst open, the ichor from it frozen on its cheek!
As the apparition reaches her, it vanishes. The molten carapace dissolves into smoke, swirling into nothing.
Beside her, Smolder lets out a small shriek of her own.
It's the dead one!
The realization is like a vacuum, sucking the air out of her. The already freezing cold seems to plummet. Ocellus feels like she has been submerged in glacial waters, her blood turning to ice, her lungs burning for air, her nerves jangling as if she had kissed a twittermite.
"I-is it g-gone?" Smolder asks.
The tremble in her friend's voice makes Ocellus less self-conscious of her own fear. Smolder's fierce and brave. If she's scared even without knowing they are besieged by the dead, it's okay to be on the nervous edge of a freak-out.
Ocellus turns to look at her friend. She is unsure what to say, but it is reassuring to have her here. The curves and scales of her dragon friend are lit from the front by the fires Smolder's breath has started. And from behind by a growing ethereal light.
The smoke bubbling out of the wallpaper flickers, taking on a malformed visage of a batpony, like topiary cut by an amateur. It's voice is sickly sweet and childish, ringing from within, the words in complete disharmony with the movement of the smoke forming its jaw.
"You. Are. Not. Healthy. Please. Let. Me. Help."
"Uhhh, nothankyou," Smolder blurts out as she turns to see the corrupted, essence-infused wallpaper spectre.
"I. Cannot. Ascertain. The. Nature. Of. The Illness," the spectre replies in its overly cheerful, grub-like voice. "Am. Sorry. Mistress. I. Must. Probe. Deeper."
Ocellus begins backing away.
"Vivisection. May. Be. Required." The spectre takes a step towards them, its eyes erupting in palsied flickering.
"Hnaaaaaah!" wheezes Smolder, horrified.
The two friends turn and run, taking quickly to the air, not caring which direction they are going. Just that they are staying together and getting away from the wallpaper abortion.
The fires behind them tear from the walls and floor as if sucked into a funnel, going out and plunging the hallway again into darkness. Ahead, a weak azure flame gutters in a single wall sconce. In the small island of blue light, the black carapace corpse of a drone leans against the wall, surrounded with empty-bulbed moonsilver needles, ichor frozen to its left cheek beneath a torn eye.
Smolder breathes fire across it. The carpet and wallpaper ignites, illuminating the doorway to the library. There is no corpse.
Ocellus is struck against the backs of her hindlegs, spinning her. Then again in the head. As she drops to the carpet, dazed, she hears Smolder take several more hits. She doesn't need to see the objects scattering the carpet to recognize them.
It's throwing the books at us!
Ocellus calls out to her friend as she pushes herself back into the air. Smolder spins around just in time for a book to the face. The dragon's expression and snort tell Ocellus that Smolder will never feel sorry for setting a bunch of them on fire.
As Smolder waits for her to catch back up, joining beside her again in fleeing, a sick new fuel pours into the fires of her panic.
This hallway isn't this long! They were barely halfway down it. At their speed, they should have reached the end in seconds.
As they fly past the open doorway to the library, they hear an air-splitting CRACK, followed by a fractured crash.
"The Nightmare's back!?" Smolder cries out in outraged disbelief.
Ocellus looks back at the doorway, her ears lifted high. There is no sound save the flapping of their wings and the crackling of the fire. A ruddy glow emanates from the library.
"Doesn't sound like it," she calls to Smolder, slowing down as she glances a wall. "I think something just broke through those library doors." From the other side.
Just as she turns to look where she is flying, the molten carapace flickers into being in the hall behind them.
I can't save it! Ocellus's thoughts fill with despair. I can't help it. It will never be love-filled. It's dead.
She can't save dead. How can they even deal with dead? How can you overcome a ghost?
No, it's not a ghost, exactly, Ocellus thinks. Whatever this is of the deceased drone -- his thoughts? his will? His soul? -- it is saturated with raw dark essence. The power that is making the dead thing like this is something that exists in the world. Even when their attacker is invisible and intangible.
She has an idea. She cannot save the drone. But maybe she can free it from this purgatory.
"Hey!" Smolder calls out ahead of her. "Where's the door?"
The hallway dead ends in an alcove with a trio of onyx pillars.
"We came in this way," Smolder insists, staring at the blank wall to the right of the alcove. "Where's the door we came in through?"
They are cornered!
Three possibilities rapidly occur to Ocellus.
Did the entrance shift away? Unlikely. They are too far from the hive. And they haven't seen anything like that happening in this wing.
Maybe the door was a secret passage, with this side concealed? Much more likely. The Castle of the Two Sisters has a lot of secret passages. Apparently, Luna loved them. She hasn't seen one here, but that would just mean they are well concealed.
Or the door could be there and they just can't see it. Most likely. The dead drone -- for want of a name, their poltergeist -- has used multiple illusions against them already.
Smolder has turned to look at her. But now the dragon is staring past her with an exasperated expression of anxiety. Ocellus turns to look back down the hall.
Two figures of black, hole-pocked carapace have flown into the hallway from the library. They look like drones, but something deep in her psyche screams at Ocellus that they are not. Like staring into the uncanny valley, and having something glare hatefully back.
They glow faintly with a nimbus of deep, bloody crimson. And they move in perfect unison. They carry their left forehoof higher in exactly the same way. Their wings beat in synchronicity.
The malformed wallpaper spectre hasn't pursued, seeming leashed to its wall. The spectre focuses on the nearest of the red-aura figures. "You. Will. Feel. Much. Better. After. A. Brief. Autopsy."
Simultaneously, the two figures turn their heads, one looking left, the other right. They turn to face the strangers, one towards Smolder and Ocellus. The other turns towards the melted carapace apparition floating in the burning hallway and the malformed wallpaper spectre.
Terror and confusion mix in a whirlwind. Ocellus decides to cut through it. Now is a good time to be a bugbear.
Flash.
The two drone-things spread their forelegs wide. Ocellus sees an angry red glow burn brighter in the breast of the figure facing them.
No. She cannot be seeing this. They cannot be doing what it looks like they are doing!
A beam of crimson energy lances from the creature's chest, shooting past Bugbear-Ocellus.
Smolder has just enough time to sweep her tail around, bringing up the ebony plate like a shield. The beam strikes it, destroying the plate and hitting the orange-scaled dragon, knocking her back with tremendous violence. Smolder smashes back through the onyx pillars, reducing them to rubble, and impacts the wall hard enough to break through the wood.
The dragon slams into a gothic wooden table in the next room, cracking it and sending it skidding back into a vine-tangled vanity with a triptych of mirrors. Smolder collapses to the floor with a loud groan, bathed in a faint cerulean glow.
Ocellus feels flashes of panic, horror and relief. The blows would have shattered chitin and pulverized internal organs, causing gruesome death to any changeling. They have merely left Smolder beaten and bruised.
Ocellus spins, lashing out with paws and stinger, not wanting to kill with claws, but needing to subdue the thing that just hurt her friend. Heavy fists slam into wings and chitin. The red-aura around the drone-thing evaporates, the creature suddenly going limp and falling to the floor.
Ocellus raises her fists towards the second, its back to her as it engages the poltergeist with the same ferocity that its partner attacked Smolder. Beams of angry red light bursting from its chest. Ocellus weakens as what she is seeing sinks in.
The crumpled drone-like thing beneath her bubbles and dissolves into blue smoke with a few dying embers of cerulean light. The smoke spreads out over the carpet, fading.
The molten carapace thing in the hall curls and dodges. One red beam hits it, the poltergeist turning to smoke, lingering just a moment before escaping through a wall.
Bugbear-Ocellus jabs her stinger through the drone-thing's back. Her stinger pierces through its backplate between its wings. She's done this before. Any drone should react by taking a form immune to the poison.
Instead, the drone-thing's red aura dies, the creature going limp. Then it too dissolves into blue smoke with cerulean sparkles.
Did I... did I just kill two creatures?
With a flash, Ocellus collapses to the floor, staring in absolute shock and numbness. She doesn't even feel when Smolder shakes her.
"Luna!" Smolder raps on the center vanity mirror hard enough to crack it. "Luna! We need you! Ocellus needs you!"
The dragon huffs as the mirror resolutely shows her reflection, bathed in azure light, the crack running between her large, blue eyes. A cerulean glow reflects in them.
Smolder sighs and turns from the vine-entangled mirrors, picking up the little lantern she braved the now empty, burning hallway to retrieve. She moves over to Ocellus, waving the lantern in front of her eyes, hoping to snap her friend out of her shutdown.
Ocellus begins to react, following the happily flickering blue flame with her gaze. After a minute, she focuses past the lantern and sees Smolder's worried face. She tastes smoked peppers and rubies. Not that Ocellus has ever tasted rubies before. But then, she's never tasted wet dirt or crude oil or many of the other love notes she can recognize. Like wine notes, she thinks hazily. You just know what you're tasting.
Love notes. Smolder's love. Ocellus feels the world fall reluctantly into focus. "I'm sorry for having worried you," she says.
Smolder lowers the lantern. "Don't you dare be sorry," the dragon tells her. "Just..." Smolder looks lost. She clearly has no idea what to say next. They stare at each other, concern and anxiety and shame mixing in the air. The taste of that love grows more dominant, and Ocellus is rocked back by a sudden, fierce hug.
Neither care about the pain of their bruises as Ocellus wraps her forelegs around Smolder, hugging her back.
Ocellus feels the shudders in the dragon's breast. She hears the soft hitching in Smolder's breathing as the girl fights not to cry.
"I'm okay," Ocellus says, fighting through the numbness to assure her.
"Liar," Smolder sniffs.
Slowly, they break the hug, Smolder sitting back. Ocellus looks about, finally taking in the room. Her eyes are drawn by the cerulean glow, immediately thinking of the sparks of light in the smoke of the dissolving drone-things. That I killed! she cannot keep from thinking.
"Huuh," she breathes as her gaze locks on the far wall.
More than half the room is covered in vines that have spread through a crack in the ceiling and a broken door like ivy. Black vines with dark-hued leaves bearing tiny bioluminescent fruits that glow with cerulean light. In the center of the far wall, wrapped in vines, is a grandmare clock. Both its moonsilver forks point upwards.
The clock is silent.
Ocellus stares at its moonlike face, blank of numbers, falling into a thoughtless reverie.
"Hey! Ocellus!" Smolder waves her claws in front of the nymph's face, looking panicked. She relaxes when Ocellus responds almost immediately. "Want to tell me what that was?" Her tone says you don't have to. Also but I really want you to.
"It was too much, too quickly," Ocellus tells her. And that feels honest. "Remember the dead drone I found? That thing which attacked us... our poltergeist... that was him. Or something left of him."
Smolder's eyes somehow manage to widen farther, her pupils narrowing to small slits. "Uhh... what? Are-are you s-sure?"
Ocellus nods.
"And what's with the changelings with that weird red aura?" Smolder ventures. "And the chest beams of doom?"
Ocellus stares downwards, feeling a mixture of offense and painful remorse. "Those weren't changelings." She looks up to Smolder again. "I don't know what they were, but they weren't changelings. What they did was a perversion of what a real changeling can do."
Not that they deserved to die for it! I didn't intend to kill them!
"What do you mean?" Smolder asks cautiously. Then, clearly trying to burn away some of the heaviness that has fallen, she jokes, "Are you telling me you can shoot lasers too? Somebug has been holding out on us."
Smolder's smirk tightens when Ocellus doesn't smile.
"Kinda," Ocellus admits. Smolder stares at her, shocked.
"Sharing love is what made you different to begin with! You should share yours with Chrysalis!" the Starlight calls to Thorax. Ocellus sees the pony's eyes narrow almost diabolically.
"Give her all of it!"
Thorax stops resisting. His love flows out, no longer restrained, becoming a flood. It fills the room with the taste of strawberries and oranges, with hints of fennel. Then the flood becomes a tsunami.
"When we have enough love stored... or pent up... and we release it all at once," Ocellus says sheepishly, "Well, let's just say we changelings don't need powerful unicorns or Elements to put on our own light show."
A shudder passes through her as personal horror mixes with clawing guilt. She feels her eyes burning, wanting to cry. "What those thing did? They were not changelings. That was not love."
The soft voice from the mirror tells them, "It was wrath."
Smolder jumps to her feet as Ocellus looks towards the vanity entangled by black vines. Luna's image flickers in the left mirror of the triptych. All three are black, yet they still reflect the cerulean light of the vines' berries.
"I have seen the creatures you describe through other mirrors. They seem to be spreading from the Conservatory. They engage Queen Elytra's drones whenever they encounter them."
Luna watches as Ocellus crawls closer, only standing when the nymph reaches the vanity. She looks as pained as Smolder at seeing her like this. The night alicorn's voice cracks as she asks. "Ocellus. Please tell me there is some way I can help."
"What are they?" Ocellus asks urgently, her voice rising as the tears begin to fall. "I-I killed them! Luna, I killed those creatures!"
Luna raises a hoof to the mirror. "No... don't cry, Ocellus. This sorrow, this guilt, is not yours to bear."
Of course it is! Ocellus leans forward, screaming into the mirror. "I'm the one who killed them!"
"No, no!" Luna says, trying to calm the distraught nymph. "You... yes, you did kill, but not creatures."
"Wh-what?" Ocellus pulls back. Confusion batters her. She feels a spark of hope, but dares not grasp for it.
"I believe those are essence constructs," Luna tells Ocellus with an insistent calmness. "They are alive, but they are not sentient beings. What you did is no more cruel than... chopping down a tree."
Ocellus shakes her head. No, that's not true. They were intelligent. They recognized us and attacked. Trees don't do that!
Well, most trees. There are plants in the Everfree...
Behind her, Smolder clears her throat. "I know Ocellus. Right now, she needs honest truth."
Luna pauses, looking askance. "Maybe not trees." The night alicorn looks back into Ocellus' eyes, her tone kind. "They are living creatures, but not intelligent ones. It was... more akin to killing fish." Luna thinks. "That is not a bad thing. Your friend Gallus kills and eats fish, does he not?"
Ocellus is trembling. Killing fish? Her mind tries to force spinning thoughts into a new structure. Okay, fish react to things. They attack food. Run from predators. Swim in schools. Ocellus remembers how oddly synchronized their movements were.
The taste of honeydew, jicama and tar alights Ocellus' receptors, subtle yet strong, so vibrant and pure that everything else seems to fade. Luna's love envelops her, feeding her, soothing her, giving her strength.
Her breath is shaky. Yes, Gallus kills fish. He's a hunter. Nothing wrong with that. Even Professor Fluttershy feeds fish to creatures. She wipes tears from her eyes. I can kill fish. That's... I can be okay with that.
Ocellus stares into the kind face of the night alicorn. "Th-th-thank y-you." The nymph feels Smolder gently take her shoulders in the dragon's claws.
"Essence c-c-constructs?" Ocellus says, trying to stop from quivering. The relief flooding her soul is almost as debilitating as the guilt. "Like th-the thestrals?"
"Thestrals?" Smolder asks in the tone of someone who is tired of not being told things.
"The... servants of N-Nightmare Moon," Ocellus says, getting her breathing under control. She feels wetness on her cheeks and wipes more tears from her eyes. "Kind of... prototypes of batponies."
Smolder lets out a breath. "Ah, I get it. That's why the wallpaper-things look like that."
She looks towards the grandmare clock and the intruding mass of vines. They must be very close to the Conservatory. The sealed library doors probably opened into it. "The only ones that remain are the ones Nightmare Moon left to tend the Conservatory."
"It seems Pharynx has control of the essence pool and the artifacts Nightmare Moon used to create her servants," Luna says. "The red aura suggests they are being controlled through Wrath."
"Like puppets?" Smolder asks.
The way those things moved, like schools of fish like... like a hive mind. Ocellus sees her own personal battle made horribly manifest. Drones eschew individuality. The changelings of her hive embrace it. But a true hive mind is the absolute absence of personhood!
Ocellus feels a bleak dawn break over her. "On no. Pharynx is making his own hive!"
That is so wrong.
And now Pharynx is controlling who knows how many... mimics of drones. Each connected to an infinite wellspring of rage. And the Protector of the Hive has taken no time at all finding a way to weaponize Wrath.
Smolder blinks. "Didn't he come through to save us?" Her confusion shifts to exasperation. "Those things don't have a good grasp of friend and foe."
Luna frowns. "His intentions may have been to protect a member of his hive and her friends, but under Wrath's influence, his anger towards those who threatened you has likely consumed his thoughts."
Ocellus swallows. It just keeps getting worse. It is like they are climbing the steepest pits of Tartarus, only to slide down further with every step forward.
"So he no longer cares about us getting caught in the crossfire?" Smolder gives a grumpy sigh. "I'm ready to leave the moon now."
Ocellus opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. Her mind feels jammed up. None of the things she needs to be asking come to her readily.
The flickering image of Luna gives the nymph the most comforting smile she can, still holding her hoof to the mirror. The nymph reaches up and touches her own hoof to the glass. As they did before in the Throne Room.
Smolder does not allow the silence to linger long. "What's up with the clocks?"
Ocellus draws back her hoof and turns to stare at the silent grandmare clock. "I wondered that too. I think they start ticking every time I recover an anti-Element."
Luna's eyebrows rise. She recovers, listening. "The clocks," she repeats, ignoring Smolder's stare. "Yes, I hear three of the four."
Ocellus cocks her head. "There are only four? And this would be the fourth one." Always a few rooms away from where an anti-Element is being stored. The Conservatory is surely right on the other side of that vine-invaded wall.
"I... Nightmare Moon..." Luna stops, drawing up resolve. "I. Did not trust the entities who gave me the anti-Elements. I did not believe they aided me out of friendship. Whatever their motives were, I did not wish to fall prey to their machinations."
Luna looks at the two young friends. "I created the clocks to warn me if they turned their gaze on me. No will or magic other than my own could quiet the clocks or keep me from hearing the alarm they sounded. Even if I was asleep, I would hear their warning in my dreams."
For a moment, Luna's image vanishes. The black in the mirror fades to deep shadow. But her voice continues, becoming more ghostly.
"I placed one clock near where I stored each of the stars' gifts, keeping the stones in separate arms of the palace, away from each other. Should anything attract the attention of outside, otherworldly entities, the clocks would begin to tick."
Ocellus falls back onto her tail. Luna had just confirmed her suspicions. But added a whole new level of possible horror to this insane nightmare she was living. There was a chance the stars were paying attention? Could they intervene?
"All we know for certain," Luna's ghostly voice seems to whisper, "Is that something beyond just Queen Elytra is watching." Luna's voice takes on an unmistakably remorseful tone. "But I suspect the stars are again helping evil escape the moon."
Suddenly, her metaphorical Tartarus sinks a whole lot deeper.
Luna's voice takes a bitter edge. "They've done it before."
The mirrors darken again, Luna reappearing, this time in the right mirror of the triptych. Smolder steps around Ocellus to confront the night alicorn in the mirrors.
"So that's why you've only been talking to Ocellus," Smolder says, her voice accusatory. "Don't think we didn't notice. You've gone out of your way. When we were all together, you waited until Gallus was talking to me privately before telling Ocellus about Pride."
Ocellus isn't sure what Gallus had pulled Smolder aside for -- her brief temptation with Envy and that first needle, she suspected. Or his hellish crawl through the ducts. But Luna's appearance had coincided with it. And considering what she had to do to get through the hive, Ocellus had not been surprised that Luna wanted to speak to her alone.
Luna's reaction to the accusation is a calculated non-reaction.
Ocellus looks between Smolder and the flickering image of Luna, a feeling of sadness welling up. She has to ask. "Luna, don't you trust me?"
"Of course I do," Luna says sincerely. "And if you say the clocks began ticking because you took custody of the anti-Elements, then I believe that is what drew the outside attention the clocks have sensed."
"She means," Smolder huffs, "that she isn't assuming rescuing us is what made the clocks tick anymore."
Ocellus looks between them again. "Luna, is that true?"
Luna closes her eyes. "It was not merely the timing of the clocks. I searched through every mirror I could connect to, but I only found you, Ocellus. I never saw any of them until you had found them first."
Well, considering where each of them were, Ocellus thinks, that's not a surprise.
"I admit, that made me suspicious."
"Okay, Gallus is right," Smolder relents. "This place is paranoia-inducing on an epic scale."
DOOM!
Smolder and Ocellus spin to face the wall violated by vines. The sound came from somewhere on the other side.
DOOM!
A shrieking tsunami of shattering glass mingles with the apocalyptic drumbeat.
The vines shake. Dust pours from the ceiling. The grandmare clock shudders, scooting slightly on the floor. The two friends feel the tremors beneath them.
DOOM!
The room quakes as a great rumbling thunders through the vine-desecrated wall. Great metallic screams and rending sounds, followed by a cavalcade of smaller impacts.
Smolder and Ocellus exchange silent understanding: the Nightmare just tore Its way back inside!
Smolder puts on a brave smile. "We've got this."
She gives a thumbclaw up to both Ocellus and Luna before turning and striding back to the Smolder-sized hole in the wall. "At least those doors are open now." The young dragon begins climbing through.
"Uh, there's a lot of fire out here," she says, looking over her shoulder at Ocellus. "Better turn into a dragon."
Ocellus watches Smolder forge ahead, taking in her taste, her body language.
"You're happy about this," Ocellus realizes aloud.
Smolder pauses, half through the wall, and looks back at her. "Kinda, yeah. After you got solo time with Gallus and Yona, do you think I'd be happy if our only fight together during this big adventure was with each other?"
Ocellus cannot help but return Smolder's smile just a little at that.
"I'd rather avoid fighting if we can," she says, finding more of her strength. "Doesn't all of this scare you?" she asks as she approaches the broken wall. She can feel the heat. It warms her through her chitin, banishing the cold of the palace.
Backlit by flame, Smolder rolls her eyes. "An evil artifact infected me with Greed Induced Bigness and I tried to literally horde and eat my friends," she says flatly. "This terrifies me."
Smolder pushes herself through the opening, stumbling a little on the rubble of the onyx pillars. She turns to face Ocellus, reaching out a claw to help her through.
"But we're together, so I'm happy about that. And honestly, I was pretty much a full-grown Dragon and you still kicked my ass. Together, there's nothing we can't handle!"
Ocellus opens her mouth, wanting to point out the flaws in Smolder's logic. But she stops -- at first because she doesn't want to throw a damper on the positive emotions pouring from her dorm-mate. Then, after some thought, because she isn't sure Smolder is wrong.
They are faced with not only changeling drones -- some of which are augmented in terrifying ways -- but the changeling queen, that Nightmare, and possibly even Pharynx.
In theory, just the queen alone should nullify any advantage Ocellus' shapeshifting offers them. But Queen Elytra hasn't shown anything like Ocellus' repertoire, possibly only knowing an extremely limited number of forms.
She's an opportunist who is scrambling to adjust to a rapidly changing situation that seems almost as intent on throwing the queen off her game. Just as she seemed on the cusp of victory -- creating her Nightmare and destroying the Throne Room -- Pharynx appears right in the heart of Nightmare Moon's servant manufacturing center, changing everything.
They've got each other. They have three of the four anti-Elements. And they have a plan.
"Keeping secrets secret is dangerous. I'm sure you would agree."
Ocellus' ears twitch. They strain for the sound of gurgling and muddy sloshing, of liquefied chitin sliding against itself. She breathes the painfully frigid air in through her nose, trying to discern the acrid reek of rotted pumpkins on fire.
There is nothing. Ocellus expected the Nightmare to be on top of them by now. After the tumult minutes ago, the silence is even more frightening.
Can the Nightmare transform? Could It be hiding as a goblet or a potted plant? Despite the Nightmare's amorphous body, Ocellus doubts the abomination can truly hold a mimicked form like a changeling can.
She dearly hopes she is correct.
The air is thin and the cold has a stronger bite. Ocellus finds herself blinking out of worry that her ocelli might freeze. She chides herself, knowing that yaks live in a climate that is probably often this cold in the winter. She's not a yak, but changelings can survive in most climates. If a yak can take this cold, her ocelli are not in danger of freezing.
The room beyond the library is a sitting balcony. Smaller chairs and an end table of wrought iron flank a small, gothic throne from which Nightmare Moon could gaze out over the multi-story greenhouse of her Conservatory. The view now was blocked by the twisted, tortured branches of black-barked wood similar to the Crooked Trees visited on one of their field trips. Their large, dark-hued leaves shimmer like an oil slick with purple and green. Large bushels of glowing cerulean fruits hang from the branches like chandeliers.
Luna told her that the Conservatory was used to cultivate the plants that created the most concentrated, potent fruits of dark essence. Ocellus remembers the changeling pods containing cuttings of plants with cerulean fruit in the kitchen pantry. The doors with metalwork shaped like vines with cerulean gemstones.
"Concentrated dark essence glows with the color of the midday sky?" she voices aloud as she turns off her lantern's flame and tucks it safely away in her dice pouch. That must have been an unpleasant irony for the night alicorn's villainous personification.
Ocellus looks over the maze of twisted, malformed branches. There are plenty of gaps to crawl through, but no clear path for flight. Once they get in, they can climb for the top and fly above the trees. The canopy will at least provide some cover from enemies.
Which won't help against the one who can taste that I'm here.
Except maybe it will. In Ogres & Oubliettes terms, taste isn't exactly a targeting sense. The Nightmare will recognize her proximity, but may not be able to find her if they keep out of sight.
Smolder hops up onto a branch and sits there, looking down at Ocellus with a smile. "I don't have to be a changeling to taste what you're feeling."
Part of Ocellus wants to pedantically correct Smolder that she isn't an empath and can really only taste love. But a much bigger part feels her curiosity piqued. That almost sounds like a challenge to her race's senses.
Ocellus smirks. "Oh?"
What she is feeling is the cold. And anxiety. Her caution and common sense is struggling against a mindless urge to rush forward as fast as they can and try to grab Wrath. The Nightmare is somewhere close by, and she is Its prey. They have to be smart. From Smolder's smile and confident demeanor, she doubts the dragon is thinking of any of that.
Smolder nods, slipping between two large branches, finding good footing on the next. "You know I like kindness and gentleness and cute things," she says, offering a claw. "But I'm a dragon. I'm competitive. You're worried how I'm going to feel about you beating me in a fight after all this is over."
It wasn't what she had been thinking right then. But Ocellus has to admit it had crossed her mind. That hadn't just been Smolder, but a crude approximation of the strength and power Smolder could aspire to as an adult. She was afraid Smolder might lose pride in herself, or feel fundamentally lessened by it.
Ocellus takes the claw despite not really needing the help to climb. "A little, yeah."
Smolder nods, dropping her voice as they move through the dense labyrinth of branches and glowing fruit. "Well, if you've been paying attention at all to my Feast of Fire stories, you'll know one thing Dragons aren't attracted to is weakness."
"Coming to the School of Friendship, I've learned a lot about types of strength that have nothing to do with being big and powerful. I've learned that kindness isn't weakness," Smolder tells Ocellus as she helps the nymph unsnag her saddlebags from a branch. "My friends are strong in all sorts of ways. And so am I. You really think I'd be upset if you can be physically stronger or you're a better fighter than me?"
Ocellus smiles thankfully, adjusting her saddlebags. They ride heavier on her chitin, filled with rubble. Together, they slip between two thick branches, pushing through a curtain of leaves.
"Mother didn't choose Father to mate with because he was a pushover," Smolder says, smirking. "And despite what some of Spike's pony comics would have you believe, we don't go snatching up defenseless mares and keeping them in our caves as decoration."
With a wave of her claws, Smolder smugs, "Honestly, damsels in distress do nothing for me."
Flashes of red light end the conversation. Ocellus slips down to a lower branch and carefully pushes away a tangle of leaves.
Below, the branches become less thick for the first three meters above the vine-covered Conservatory floor. Ocellush sees a gaunt, bat-winged equine flying through the spaces between. An angry scarlet light strikes it, slamming the equine against the branches. The creature dissolves into blue smoke with sparkles of cerulean light.
Three not-changelings shrouded in coronas of deep crimson. Ocellus eases the leaves back to conceal herself and climbs back to Smolder. "Pharynx is killing the thestrals!" she whispers.
Her heart wants to cry out "Why??" But her head already knows the answer. She has bathed too long in the paranoia of this place to not understand. Like Gallus beating those goblets back in the buttery, Pharynx is eliminating anything that he thinks might be a changeling in disguise.
The pale, cold light of the stars stare down upon the wreckage. The Conservatory is the size of a professional buckball field. Above the first floor, glass walls rise to a ceiling of arched glass held in fan-vaulted tracery. A tenth of the ceiling has been shattered inwards, revealing the Nightmare's point of ingress.
Beneath the opening, metal scaffolding is torn and twisted. A moonsilver catwalk hangs canted over a torn jungle of vines, black-barked plants and glowing cerulean fruit. Broken glass and sheared beams of metal are caught in the vines and litter the Conservatory floor below among broken planter tables and a few smashed carts.
The Nightmare is neither visible nor audible. It passed this way, but seems to have moved on.
Ocellus and Smolder fly above the catwalk. Neither would trust it with their weight, but they are merely using its moonsilver latticework for extra visual cover.
The flamboyant moonsilver adorning the dangling, bent catwalk reminds Ocellus of the glass balconies in the Grand Hall. Like them, the catwalk's floor was glass, but that shattered in the Nightmare's violent descent, leaving only the moonsilver tracery.
An eerily gorgeous forest of black plants and glowing cerulean fruit sprawls below. Occasional flashes of red pierce the canopy. Vines grow up the sides of the walls, spreading out over the glass and tracery. More rise up along the scaffolding. Suspended beams are covered in hanging plants with dangling fruit. Originally, the catwalk ran between them. Ocellus imagines thestrals harvesting fruit, putting them into carts on the walkway.
"So this new changeling queen," Smolder says quietly, trying to banish some of the cold and gloom with conversation. "Queen Not-Chrysalis...?"
"Her name is Queen Elytra," Ocellus whispers back, eager to hear Smolder's voice in the eerie silence, but not wishing either of them to be heard.
Smolder stops, hovering. The orange-scaled dragon thinks a moment, then looks to Ocellus with her big blue eyes. "Is it bad that I think that's a pretty name?"
Ocellus loves those eyes. She has the urge to become a dragon. She would justify it with her desire to roll her eyes. Ocelli can't manage that expression like other creatures' eyes can.
"It means these." Ocellus stretches and waves her elytra.
Smolder watches her, clearly admiring the display. "Is it awkward that I love your elytra?"
She does. Ocellus can taste it. Jalapeno and strawberry. Definitely Smolder-love, but a very unusual flavor of it.
"They're like armor for your wings," her friend says. "That's pretty amazing. And they're beautiful."
Ocellus blinks at Smolder, surprised by this confession and unsure what to feel... but knowing she is a breath away from blushing.
Smolder gives an innocent huff at Ocellus' look. "What? I like red. The first creature I ever cared about is red."
Ocellus feels the blush breaking across her cheeks. Smolder rubs the back of her head, her stance betraying all of the awkward.
"So... uh..." The awkwardness continues, punctuated even more by their whispering. "I've never asked but... what does 'ocellus' mean?"
Ocellus frowns just slightly, looking away. "A changeling's eye."
Smolder blinks. She seems to process that just a moment before her face scrunches as something unpleasant occurs to her. "Wait... so when changelings stick themselves with those needles...?"
Ocellus' frown deepens. "They're stabbing themselves in their ocellus." Her mouth tastes bitter. She has vehemently avoided thinking about that. In her head, she hears Gallus' voice: Okay, I have to ask, why the eye?!
That is not the reason. It is a coincidence. Not a symbolic violation. It's not personal.
Smolder stares off into the distance. "And I thought that couldn't get any creepier."
The dragon's stare turns upwards towards the blackness of space.
The stars are gone.
"Uhh..." Smolder breathes, pointing a claw upwards.
Ocellus looks up. Then down. The lights of the cerulean fruits are winking out. The furthest plants have already been extinguished, plunging the edges of the Conservatory into absolute night. The eclipsing of the lights speeds towards them on all sides like a closing iris of darkness.
The blackness closes around them, leaving only the ethereal gleam of the catwalk's moonsilver latticework, suspended over an endless void.
On the catwalk lies the slumped corpse of a drone, three needles sticking out of its ruined left eye.
The heavy mass of a speeding drone strikes Ocellus from above, driving her hard into the catwalk, her body replacing the drone corpse. The impact crushes her elytra down on her wings, sending an excruciating shock of pain through the nymph as her wings are brutally pinched. Ocellus screams.
The drone passes through Ocellus and the catwalk, its prey suddenly not moving with it. Ocellus feels a bone-freezing, electric chill as the drone passes through her. It stops, hovering, staring at its empty hooves in bewilderment with its one good eye. Then it dissipates into smoke as Smolder's fiery breath blasts through it.
Smolder swoops back and lands on the catwalk, reaching for Ocellus. The dragon wobbles as the catwalk pivots, then dips to a precarious angle with a tormented squeal.
Ocellus scrambles as she begins to slide. She feels Smolder wrap her arms and tail around her, being cautious of her wings.
Beyond the catwalk, smoke swirls tightly, forming a cocoon. The cocoon cracks and peels, flaking away to reveal a melted blob of carapace floating in the air before them. It stretches out its limbs in a sick mockery of the heart beam stance. Glass and rubble fly into the air, spinning about it. The dead thing's one eye opens, staring into them. The wreckage stops swirling, the debris suddenly locked in place -- large shards of broken glass, sheared metal tracery and torn scaffold piping ring the poltergeist like the numbers on a clock.
"Uuugh. Really?" Smolder vents her displeasure as she dodges sideways and folds her wings, dropping with both of them towards a floor they can't see as a hurricane of deadly debris rips apart the catwalk.
Their falling bodies are caught in vines. The wreckage of the catwalk above rains down. The bulk of the moonsilver walkway tears free of its remaining moorings with a metal scream, plunging towards them.
Ocellus twists, throwing herself over Smolder, transforming into the giant insect monster she had become when showing off their first day at the lake.
"What do you say, Ocellus?" Smolder challenges. "Can you be weirder than a flying yak?"
Monstrous-Insect-Ocellus hears Smolder murphle against her chitin as the catwalk SLAMS into her back, driving her down through the vines, ripping them apart in spurts of smoke and strange liquids. They hit the rubble-strewn floor, the catwalk pinning Ocellus, Smolder buried beneath her.
Monstrous-Insect-Ocellus claws at the floor, scraping and tearing at the disfigured marble, fighting for proper purchase to push the catwalk off of her. She could turn to something smaller, but the catwalk could still pin her, or collapse on Smolder. She can feel Smolder squirming beneath her.
Ocellus gets her foreclaws under her and pushes, feeling the mangled catwalk shift against her back. She manages to lift herself enough for Smolder to scramble out. The dragon is gasping.
She looks around for the poltergeist. The cerulean light of the fruits is back. They gleam like a field of blue stars in the shadowed gloom of the Conservatory forest. (The stars, she suspects, are back too.) Their grim foe is not showing itself.
Unicorn telekinesis, illusions, invisibility, and conditional intangibility? Beyond being terrifying, the dead drone has an alarming array of abilities. Ocellus empathizes with Smolder's exasperation. But she's been thinking about this, and she has a trick of her own.
"Hold on!" Smolder calls up, wheezing a bit. "I'll get that off of you!"
From the depths of that gloom comes a slurping, shifting sound.
"Oh no." Smolder flaps her wings, flying to the catwalk and pulling on it. The catwalk lifts. Ocellus would again be amazed at her friend's strength if she wasn't frozen in place by the sound rushing at them.
The Nightmare spills through the trees. It rears up before Its prey, lifting Itself on spindly legs, a hundred drone mouths slumping together to form one single maw.
Ocellus blood freezes. She feels her chitin wanting to crack off and escape.
The Nightmare's jaw yawns wide, and Ocellus can see the faces of her parents, the heads of her little brother and sister -- for a moment as she knows them before shifting to the ebony-carapaced indistinguishability of love-starved drones -- melting into the black licorice mass that is the Nightmare's tongue.
"Ocellussssssss!"
"Ocellusssssssssss!!"
"Ocellussssssssssssss!!!"
Ocellus isn't even aware of transforming into a nymph again. It just seems the Nightmare grows phenomenally, blotting out the glass ceiling and the star-strewn sky. The Nightmare lets out a primeval roar. The ice of her blood shatters, her paralysis broken as all thought and reason are extinguished. All that remains is a primal, unevolved and all-consuming instinct:
ESCAPE! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!GET AWAY!! FLEE!!!
"O-okay, I w-was wrong," Smolder gasps, collapsing onto the cracked table. "We can't handle that Nightmare thing. How can we f-fight something with the power to make us run away?"
Ocellus huddles against the grandmare clock, trying to get her shaking under control. The Nightmare had chased them all the way back to the library. She isn't sure how they escaped it.
"I-I don't know," the nymph admits helplessly. She at least has an idea for the poltergeist -- assuming the Nightmare's shriek isn't also effective on the dead and it is somewhere on the far side of the moon. But the Nightmare? "I t-tried Fluttershy's lesson about f-f-facing our fears, but..."
This thing was made to hunt her. She is Its prey.
Smolder points a claw at the ceiling accusingly. "But that fear effect is cheating." There is a soft splintering sound beneath her, and the table's legs give out, dumping her onto the floor.
"I hate this palace," Smolder wheezes, having just gotten her breath back.
Luna's image flickers in the cracked central mirror of the gothic vanity's triptych. "Thank goodness you are both all right. I felt the Nightmare attack again." The connection is clearly unstable, her image flickering. But even through the distortions, Ocellus can hear the slight wetness in Luna's voice. She recognizes eyes that have been crying.
"L-Luna?" Ocellus pushes herself away from the grandmare clock. Having Luna's distress to focus on helps her ignore her own. "Are you..." Ocellus stops as she reaches the vanity.
No, don't ask if she's okay. She's not. Ocellus isn't going to leave the words hanging. That would be just like asking. She needs another approach. "...able to help us? We escaped the Nightmare, but now it is between us and Pharynx. And its power to make us panic is too strong."
Ocellus watches the way Luna keeps herself from cringing, the corners of her eyes creasing a little at the word help.
Smolder pips up, "You wouldn't happen to know a way to counter that, would you?"
Luna shakes her head. "Sadly, not for you, no."
Ocellus doesn't even have to look to know Smolder's eyebrow is raised.
Luna sighs. "I did once distill a magical potion from the light of the moon which can protect against such unnatural fear. But I am sorry, it only works on adults."
Behind her, Smolder grumps. "Well that figures."
Ocellus keeps her eyes focused on Luna. Enough that the flickering image slips back a little under her gaze. Finally, she tells the night alicorn, "This isn't your fault. You didn't cast the spell that corrupted the mirror; Queen Elytra did. You have been helpful..."
Luna nickers. "Clearly."
"Without you, I'd be lost. Or captured. Or dead," Ocellus protests. "I certainly wouldn't have any idea of what's going on. Or have a plan..."
Smolder stands up, huffing. "I'd still be a gigantic, greed-consumed brute who attacks her friends and tries to kill and eat everything that moves."
Smolder's eyes widen. "And I'm now really hoping the changeling queen didn't have drones waiting for me like she did for Ocellus," the dragon moans. "Because if she did, I ate them!"
Smolder looks to Ocellus, her eyes filled with dawning horror.
Ocellus cringes. "I... I don't think so. I-I'm sure we would h-have f-found something."
"You mean something left."
Ocellus hears Luna's stifled sniff. She feels torn between hugging Smolder and trying to ease Luna's pain. As much as this ordeal has made manifest one personal nightmare after another, she is not the only one tormented.
Luna was so tortured by what she did as Nightmare Moon -- so wracked by guilt -- that she created the Tantabus to punish herself. And now, Luna is seeing everything she abandoned here once again threaten Equestria. She's being forced to watch creatures she cares about try to fight an apocalypse of her making, being hurt and traumatized by this catastrophe while trapped and unable to directly help herself. This is as much Luna's living hell as her own. Maybe more.
With a flash of turquoise, Ocellus shifts into dragon form, knowing the favorable emotional response that will trigger in Smolder. She reaches out, taking Smolder's claws in her own, pulling the orange-scaled dragon close enough to press tan scales against her.
"You say you trust me," Ocellus says, keeping her voice gentle but firm. "Now listen to me. None of the bad things that have happened tonight are your fault." Ocellus rests her head on Smolder's, whispering into her dear friend's ear. As she speaks, she looks to Luna, saying those words as much to the former princess. "There is nothing to forgive," she maintains. "We. Will. Be. Okay."
The shockingly potent taste of Luna's love touches her receptors again, causing everything else to drop away. Ocellus has to close her receptors to focus.
She feels Smolder shudder against her. But only once. Brave, tough dragon.
Ocellus tries to redirect every creature's thoughts to what is ahead. There is too much pain and ugliness behind. She could get lost in this night if she allowed herself to. But she won't, and she won't allow her friends to either. "We need to get past that Nightmare."
Smolder nods, not backing away. "Agreed," she says, her muzzle moving against Dragon-Ocellus' breast scales. "How?"
Ocellus feels Smolder straighten up. Hears her snap her claws. The orange dragon presses her muzzle against Ocellus' breast, letting Ocellus feel her smirk, then backs up enough to speak. "Maybe we can get Pharynx' pseudolings to attack it. Get by while it's distracted!"
Ocellus considers that. That's a good plan. "We would have to know where It is before It attacks us and uses Its terror power. Get the..." Ocellus' thoughts lock up. She releases Smolder, stepping back to look at her friend. "...pseudolings? Really?"
Smolder grins, blushing a little.
As Ocellus stares at Smolder, one thought breaks through: Smolder used "pseudo"? Wait... she must have learned that from me! Her heart surges: love mixed with pride and... whatever the emotion is that says: gosh, that's cute!
Ocellus smirks. "Okay, that is kind of good."
She recalls the Nightmare's attacks, both in the Conservatory and in the Throne Room. The queen's taunt. And the earlier revelation that she considered Ocellus the true threat to her plans. "That might not work. The queen made It with a single purpose. It's hunting me. It might not care about them."
Smolder nods. Then stops. She blinks once, then crosses her arms, leaning forward and giving Dragon-Ocellus a skeptical eye. Ocellus brushes her left arm with her right claw, feeling an awkward sense of deja vu.
"Hold on!" Smolder stares. "If this is going into the cave of Ocellus Goes It Alone, no. Absolutely no."
With a flash, Ocellus transforms into a Generic Pony Victim (or, at least, a good approximation, helped by having plenty of pony forms in her repertoire) and cheerfully suggests, "Creepy, isolated place full of monsters? Let's split up. We can cover more ground that way."
Smolder snerks.
Ocellus transforms back into her natural body. "I've read too many books to do that."
The lovebug smiles softly, the edge of her smile curling with a tiny bit of smugness. She has an idea. It's actually one she's had before: something she's daydreamed about in private, back before she started to question who she really was. Perhaps ideas like this lead to that. But she has other worries right now.
Ocellus steps closer to Smolder. "No, I had another idea."
She feels her heart flutter and a knot tie in her stomach. She could just tell Smolder what she wants to try. But that wouldn't be as fun. Or as risky, although she knows enough to know there is very little risk from Smolder.
In the back of Ocellus' mind, she contemplates that the real risk is that this won't work at all. There's no reason it shouldn't... in theory. But she's never done it before. And she's never heard about any other changeling doing it before.
Ocellus faces Smolder, stepping so close their faces are nearly touching. She can feel the heat of Smolder's breath on her nose.
"You trust me, don't you, Smolder?"
Smolder leans back a bit, flushing under her scales. Her eyes dart side to side just once before locking on the changeling in front of her.
The air around Ocellus is a fiery cinnamon -- not like candy, but like hot spiced tea. There are subtle notes of ruby and licorice. Mixed are other flavors that she cannot taste -- emotions with little or nor love.
Smolder stammers slightly, "O-of course."
Ocellus can see Smolder is flustered, and probably becoming a bit worried. In a palace full of monsters, many of which are love-starved changelings, that sort of fear is hardly unfounded.
Before those worries can grow, Ocellus leans closer and kisses Smolder.
Ocellus breaks the kiss, feeling a tiny strand of saliva stretch between her lips and Smolder's before breaking. Her tongue is tingling; her face is flush. Her whole body feels pleasantly hot. The air about her is so rich with cinnamon and rubies that it almost hurts to breathe.
Ocellus can feel her body reacting, wanting to shift, wanting to take on a form that will elicit an even greater response from her friend. She has to force herself not to. Just as she has to force herself not to feed. Even for a changeling whose life is filled with love, it is tempting -- and she is young. It takes more will than she expected.
Sometime in the kiss, Smolder's wide eyes had lidded and closed. Now they open again, staring at her.
Breathlessly, Smolder whispers, "Celly...?"
The lovebug takes a step back, closing her eyes. The taste of Smolder's love is so potent. She takes it in, but she does not feed. Instead, she wraps it around herself like a warm blanket, encasing herself in a cocoon woven from Smolder's heart. The flash of turquoise fire that surrounds her is tinged with highlights of topaz as she transforms...
...into Smolder.
Smolder looks like she just hit a brick wall. "What!?"
Ocellus smiles. "When changelings collect love from someone, we don't have to eat it. We can store it," she tells her friend. "We used to do it to take the love back to our queen. Trust me, when Headmare Starlight convinced us to share our love... if all we had to share was the love inside the hearts of love-starved changelings, it wouldn't have been much of a light show."
Smolder is staring at her. Her friend's expression is disbelieving.
Smolder holds out her claws. "Again, what!?"
Ocellus explains, "I took the love you gave me and cocooned myself in it. Now, I don't just look like you, but to another changeling, I taste like you. It's a perfect disguise!"
Seeing Smolder's bewildered look, Ocellus forges on, "I am certain the queen designed the Nightmare to hunt with a changeling's senses. Now, it won't be able to track us."
"Oh." Smolder's voice is subdued.
Ocellus frowns. This is not the reaction she expected. Neither to her new trick -- which she rather hoped would impress her friend -- nor to her kiss. Smolder is staring at her, scrutinizing her. Almost like the first time they met.
Ocellus tries to taste Smolder, hoping for some insight into what the other girl is feeling. But all she can taste is the love she has encased herself in -- so potent it drowns out everything. Her eyes widen, a chord of deep unease striking inside her. She feels like she has gone blind.
The lovebug watches as Smolder's expression changes. The Dragon stands back, straightening. Her wings sag just a little. Her tail droops. The expression on her face is one of resignation. Or possibly, worse, disappointment. Suddenly, Ocellus feels she has made a terrible mistake somehow. She wants to go back in time and undo this. To take it all back somehow.
Ocellus opens her mouth, thinking that at least she can say the kiss was just because she needed the love.
Smolder holds up a claw. "Don't." The dragon turns towards the hole in the wall, looking back at the hallway. The fires have gone out. "...Just... let's go."
Ocellus shuts her mouth and nods numbly. She walks to the wall, following Smolder.
From the triptych of mirrors, Luna's voice rings out. "STOP!"
Smolder and Ocellus turn back to face Luna in the cracked central mirror. The triptych is black. Luna's image is as solid as she was in the Grand Mirror.
"Talk to each other," Luna says, her voice carrying the regal authority she once held. "Failure to talk about problems -- even small ones -- can allow them to fester. That can cause much greater damage to a relationship than the thing you remain silent about."
Smolder and Ocellus look at each other. Then at the floor. Then at the mirror.
Ocellus chuckes awkwardly. "That... sounds like a friendship lesson our Headmare would teach."
"It is," Luna tells her. "One that Starlight taught my sister and I years ago."
Smolder sighs, rubbing her left arm with her right paw.
Ocellus looks at Smolder, then at the floor. Then back to Smolder. "You're disappointed." Every second feels like another heavy blanket being piled onto her. Each one bearable alone, but together becoming crushing and smothering. "Was... I not good at kissing?"
Smolder's eyes widen with shock. "No!" The dragon flinches and waves her claws in panic at her own words. "I mean, not no. I don't mean no! I... it's not that!"
Ocellus looks at her blankly. She feels like the carpet has been pulled out from under her, and reality is still deciding where she is supposed to fall.
With a heavy sigh, Smolder tells her, "This wasn't what I expected my first kiss to be like."
Ocellus feels the metaphorical landing. And it hurts, breaking her emotions and casting them into a swirling hurricane. The winds buffet her between dismay and confusion.
Smolder watches Ocellus, seeing the hurt and confusion. For a moment, Smolder seems to consider leaving Ocellus to her storm. But instead, the dragon snaps her attention, breaking through it.
"Look. I know you know how I feel about you. And I know you. You aren't cruel. You wouldn't play with my heart. So I know you didn't kiss me just to get my love."
Ocellus feels herself growing small. She actually has to look down to make sure she hasn't changed form.
Smolder smiles just a slight bit. "In fact, I'm pretty sure you didn't need to kiss me to get the love you needed for this..." The dragon holds her paws out towards her Ocellus twin. "...at all. You could have gotten that just from the way I felt having you stand that close to me!"
Smolder narrows her eyes challengingly. "Couldn't you!?"
Ocellus nods silently.
Smolder crosses her arms, glaring but still smiling that slight smile. "So you kissed me because you wanted to kiss me," she decides. "And I want to be really happy about that. I hope it means you feel about me like I feel about you."
The smile leaves Smolder's face. "But you waited to kiss me until you had an excuse other than how you feel about me. I-I guess in case it got weird. Or I got weird."
Ocellus feels the rush to interrupt and proclaim her feelings. But the last words cut cold. Worse because she has no defense against that. She was just thinking virtually that very thing.
"I wanted my first kiss to be because we both wanted each other with no reservations," Smolder tells her flatly. "Not because one of us had a chance to do so with an escape hatch."
"Oh.... oh I'm so sorry!" Ocellus feels like she is breaking apart.
She wants to fix this. She needs to fix this. But how can she? You don't get a second chance at a first kiss. Ocellus feels her stomach drop out of her. She wants to bury herself.
"Smolder... how can I fix this?"
Smolder is quiet for a moment.
Ocellus begins to cry.
Smolder moves to her, taking her by the arms. "Hey, hey. You're sorry. I get it. Don't. I hate to see you cry." She looks into her own eyes, but can only hold the look for a moment before wincing. "I hate to see me cry. Brimstone, this is weird."
Ocellus sniffs.
Smolder looks away a moment, then stares into the Smolder-eyes of Ocellus.
"Look. For starters, I'm going to kiss you. A kiss without any backdoors or excuses," she vows. "But not right now. Not when you look like me. Because that is just no."
Ocellus smiles a little, still sniffling and hitching softly.
"Besides, this isn't where I want to kiss."
Ocellus looks around the wrecked and vine-infested room with the creepy grandmare clock. "Y-yeah... not romantic."
Smolder harrumphs. "Honestly, the whole moon has lost a lot of its romance."
They look at each other in silence a moment before either remembers their audience.
"Sorry, Luna!"
From the mirror, Luna's voice laments. "Considering the circumstances, no offense taken."
Smolder and Ocellus gaze up at the vent.
Crossing the Conservatory directly didn't work before. But the first story of the Conservatory had walls that were not glass. According to Luna, there were rooms that ran along one side of the Conservatory, used for maintenance and storage. The duct hidden behind that vent cover should take them across the Conservatory and to the essence pools. Hopefully, with her new "perfect disguise", undetected.
The two identical orange dragons fly up and begin working together to unscrew the screws holding the cover in place. Ocellus catches Smolder sneaking looks at her.
"What?"
Smolder turns back to the screw she is working. "You know what it's like to see yourself in a mirror? This is nothing like that."
Oh.
Ocellus can understand that. She wonders what it would be like to see some other creature disguised as herself. The answer is easy: it would depend on who. For one of her siblings to become her might be fun. Or rude. But the only one who has ever tried, to her knowledge, was that guard drone near Queen Elytra's hive. She knows that would not be pleasant.
"Also, I don't care what anyone else at school says: I'm not chubby."
Smolder lifts her identical twin Ocellus up into the vent, then crawls in after her.
The duct is dark and layered with vines. But unlike those in Envy's wing, these are running in efficient paths along the surfaces of the duct, not filling the space with a knotted mess.
The two begin crawling through the duct that runs between the Conservatory and the adjacent utility rooms, the vines digging into their knees. What would be uncomfortable and soon painful to a softer form surprises Ocellus by being almost pleasant through the toughness of dragon scales. Almost like a massage.
Smolder's voice speaks up from behind her. "Okay, this is weird."
Lowering her voice to remind Smolder to do the same, Ocellus asks, "What?"
"I'm seeing myself from angles I don't ever see myself."
A circle of light on the side of the passage wall ahead is broken by the tangled mass of vines that crawl up through it before spreading out in every direction within the vent. Ocellus pauses as she reaches the opening, peeking cautiously out into the Conservatory. Checking to make sure the Nightmare is still where they last saw it.
The huge, black form of the monstrous hunter saunters through the trees. Searching for her.
Ocellus stops breathing when its head turns to look her way. Scores of changeling ocelli swarm together to form a massive eye, staring in her direction. Then it turns the other way, surveying its surroundings, oblivious to her presence. Her perfect disguise is working.
The dragon-disguised lovebug breathes again and pushes herself through the tangle of vines, turning to make sure Smolder doesn't get entangled. She sees her friend reach out with her claws to slash away the mess in front of her and she quickly waves her tail to get the dragon's attention. Smolder stops, eyeing her with a weird look.
Ocellus points to the vines and shakes her head, waving her claws near her throat. Smolder's eyes widen a little, the dragon looking from her to the vines then back again. She gives a nod of understanding.
When (thanks to Gallus) Ocellus had first discovered the small passages that snaked throughout the palace hidden above ceilings and behind walls, she had wondered about the vines that spread throughout them like invading ivy. She had immediately associated the passages with the air vents she had seen in many pony buildings. But now they seem more like the animal passages in Professor Fluttershy's home. (The professor had been so wonderful as to invite her and Smolder to a tea party once.) Only these passages were for the vines.
Ocellus can see that all of the vines originate from the potent plants in the Conservatory, and from here they spread throughout Nightmare Moon's entire palace, delivering the dark essence that becomes the fire for the torches, the water for the fountains and bathrooms, and the substance for every other amenity. All hidden to keep from marring the elegance of the palace.
If there had been a fifth anti-Element, maybe it would have been Vanity. Or would that just be Pride in another form?
Still, Ocellus finds the design fascinating -- quite unlike anything at the hive, either now or during the reign of Chrysalis -- permitting function without sacrificing form. Professor Rarity would approve.
However, cutting through them has proven a bad idea.
The line of thought meanders off until Ocellus barely suppresses a giggle.
Behind her, Smolder whispers, "My turn to ask."
Ocellus whispers back, "I was just remembering when we had tea with Professor Fluttershy, and Discord made your dress drink your tea before you could."
The light behind her from Smolder's snort of flame only makes her giggle harder, having to cover her (cute!) snout with her (fearsome!) claws.
Smolder and Smolder-Ocellus crouch in the open mouth of the duct, looking down at the rows of supplies in the Conservatory's storage room. And at the swarm of red-tinged pseudolings in the room.
Ocellus cringes back from the opening, then looks across the room to the opposite vent cover. A frown etches across her draconic face. So much for a continuous duct. They'll have to cross the room to continue this way. But they can't fight all those pseudolings. And there was no way they can sneak across. Ocellus feels certain they will be spotted any moment -- they are bright orange!
Keeping her voice as soft as possible -- a feat natural for her, but requiring focus with the rambunctious voice of Smolder -- she whispers to the real dragon. "I think we need to go with your plan. Get their attention and lead them back towards the Nightmare..."
Smolder cups her paws to her muzzle, opening her mouth to call out to them, but Ocellus holds up an identical paw to her snout.
"Don't shout," she whispers. "They shoot rage lasers, remember? We need to get the attention of just one of them -- from a distance. We'll get a head start while he rallies the others."
Smolder nods in agreement.
Ocellus turns back, looking over the pseudolings with their coronas of dark red. They are gathered like patrols. But with a hive-mind, would there actually be a leader? Does Pharynx just treat them like appendages? Or would Pharynx make one in each grouping act out the patrol leader role because it fits his idea of a proper hive?
The thoughts pull Ocellus deep enough into contemplation that she barely hears the cheap-sounding clack beside her.
Something hits one of the pseudolings on the head, bouncing off with a cute squeak. The pseudoling's eyes go wide, and they all fly upwards and back, as if expecting an explosion of resin. The red-aura drones begin looking around the floor for the object that struck one of them.
Ocellus turns and sees a smug Smolder holding Gallus' toy crossbow. A moment later, they are scurrying back down the vent as fast as they can.
The two reach the vine-choked opening only seconds before the pseudoling patrols burst out of the storage room, searching for their attacker. The Nightmare looms in the Conservatory forest, Its eyes splitting apart to form new ones, peering at the ebony-carapaced, red-tinted drones that are clearly not part of Queen Elytra's hive.
The four forward-most pseudolings rise up, their chests burning with scarlet rage. Beams of fury lash out, staggering the Nightmare as they rip through Its amorphous being.
The Nightmare's mouth splits open in a scream devoid of teeth. All the teeth and fangs embedded throughout its body slither and slide across the black surface of its carapace like scurrying ants, coming together at the tips of tentacles of greasy smoke. Clattering and molding together to create giant fangs the size of Smolder's brother.
Ocellus and Smolder watch through the vent opening as the Nightmare begins to decimate the pseudolings.
Like a dark shadow, the changeling queen rises up from the shifting black mass of the Nightmare's back. Ocellus hadn't even seen her there. For a moment, she has the insane impression that the Nightmare birthed Queen Elytra from its back, despite knowing that she instead created It.
The Nightmare skewers a pseudoling with one of its massive fangs. A black tentacle lashes out, snatching another from the air, wrapping it tight enough that Ocellus can hear its chitin crack.
Ocellus shudders, feeling sick.
The tentacle lifts the pseudoling up to Queen Elytra. Her horn erupts in lime-green light as she stares into the pseudoling's eyes.
Ocellus turns to leave while the Nightmare and queen are distracted, but Smolder snags her. Ocellus looks back at her friend questioningly.
Smolder gives a nod towards the Nightmare and Queen Elytra, mouthing silently: What's she doing? The dragon turns back to watch, seeming to think it worth the risk to spy on the three of them.
After a long moment of concentration, the changeling queen's eyes go wide. Her voice belts out, ringing with shock and amazement. "Pharynx? Is that you?"
Smolder and Ocellus exchange looks.
Ocellus' mind races, recalling what Luna had said. The red aura suggests they are being controlled through Wrath. Pharynx was actively controlling his pseudo-hive of essence creations... Oh wow. "She's tracing the magical control back to its source."
Queen Elytra stares, shouting at the pseudoling like it is one of a set of cans attached by a string.
"Even with Wrath, I'd know you in any form, Pharynx! Always the stalwart Defender of the Hive, protecting it from whatever you consider a threat!"
Red light flashes about Queen Elytra. The Nightmare continues to kill the attacking pseudolings. Whenever several fire their rage at once, It is staggered. But it never falls. And the pseudolings don't even seem to try to attack Queen Elytra directly.
"I offered you power, Pharynx!" Queen Elytra shouts. "A place at my side! But instead of love, I got BETRAYAL!"
Smolder looks at Ocellus in bewilderment. "They know each other?!"
The surprise in Smolder's voice mirrors her own. Ocellus had never heard of another queen! Although... Ocellus has to admit she finds some sense in the revelation. In the very least, it gives her greater perspective on Pharynx volunteering to come here.
What she is hearing severely redefines the primary mystery in her mental Unanswered Questions notebook: Why are there changelings on the moon?
Ocellus cannot help but hear a change in the queen's voice. A dark resonance that was not there before. As if she is tapping into the Nightmare's power somehow. Feeding from it, her voice becoming more like its own.
"Now it is I who shall crush you! I will destroy your pathetic essence soldiers... and when that grub Ocellus opens the portal, I will start by conquering mother's precious hive that you love so much. I will drain and devour every last one of them. And when I have taken everything from her, and Chrysalis is alone, mother will bow to ME!"
Ocellus' mind is reeling.
The last pseudoling twitches as the tentacle holding it tightens, the air is filled with the sound of its chitin shattering.
The changeling queen looks up through the Conservatory's glass at the world hanging in space. "DO YOU HEAR ME, MOTHER!?"
The changeling queen's voice hardly sounds anything like it did back when she fought Ocellus and Yona. Like she has taken the Nightmare's voice for herself.
Ocellus has to bite back a scream as the tentacle grip squeezes so hard the pseudoling is completely crushed, the broken and pulped body going limp, the red aura fading away. Then the changeling-like body dissolves into blue smoke.
"I WILL TEACH YOU THAT YOU CANNOT GIVE BIRTH TO SOMEONE AND THEN JUST THROW THEM AWAY!"
"Pretending you don't even know who I am isn't going to help."
Ocellus: "What... her? Pharynx? Chrysalis?"
Ocellus paces in the Conservatory's storage room, now free of pseudolings, trying to wrap her head around what she's just heard. She catches her Smolder-reflection in a stack of glass panes, seeing her confusion etched into Smolder's features. Dorky stressdragon.
Smolder sits on a crate piled with planters, her legs kicking idly as her eyes follow Smolder-Ocellus.
"Sounds like Chrysalis' daughter tried to usurp her," Smolder says, nodding. "And failed."
With a little more thought, the young dragon adds, "It sounds to me like she tried to rope Thorax's brother into her plot, and instead he ratted her out. I bet Chrysalis banished her and all her conspirators here somehow." The dragon looks upwards. "Maybe with that same mirror Luna had."
Ocellus stares at Smolder, jaw hanging open, surprised that the dragon unraveled all that far more smoothly than she could.
Smolder shrugs with a smile. "Betrayal and usurpation are both pretty common themes in stories at the Feast of Fire."
The weirdness of having herself stare at her gets to the young dragon. She gets up, flapping her wings, and lifts herself to the vent cover. Her claws begin to work the screws.
The top right screw works loose with ease. Smolder twists it until it is dangling from its hole, then gives it a flick, sending the screw on a trajectory to the floor.
The top left screw is less cooperative. It does not want to turn more than a little bit.
Smolder's snort pulls Ocellus from her thoughts. Ocellus can tell her friend is considering just ripping the vent cover off.
"Let me try," Ocellus offers, leery about the noise if Smolder should tear the screws out by force. The Nightmare cannot detect her, and Queen Elytra seems very much occupied with Pharynx. She's more worried about attracting the poltergeist.
Smolder shifts to the side, giving Ocellus access to the left screws while she turns her attention to the lower right.
Ocellus flies up, inches from Smolder. She can feel the dragon girl's body heat warming the frigid air between them as she tussles with the stubborn screw. When her wings brush Smolder's as she hovers, Ocellus can see the dragon blush slightly under her scales.
Ocellus watches Smolder focus on the lower right screw as if looking anywhere else would be looking into cockatrice eyes.
The top left screw refuses to be cajoled.
"You know," Smolder finally says, "You're exactly as strong and nimble as I am right now. You're not going to be able to do it any better."
"There's also skill," Ocellus teases.
"Skill at screwing?" Smolder questions dismissively.
The dragon girl freezes, eyes wide, the blush on her cheeks growing over her face.
Ocellus giggles.
"I did not just say that!" Smolder asserts.
Ocellus sings, "Oh yes you did."
Smolder-Ocellus whistles sinnocently as the upper-left screw finally comes loose.
Ocellus looks about at the collection of black stones on the floor before scooping them back into an empty saddlebag. She's moved everything into the other one, including Pride.
"And when she said she planned to devour your hive, she meant she was going to take all your love, right?" Smolder asks cautiously as Ocellus finishes adjusting the straps of her saddlebags to carry them more easily as a dragon. "Turn you into love-starved changelings like hers?"
Ocellus shakes her draconic head, "No. She meant she's going to eat us."
Ocellus nods, trying not to imagine her little siblings or her parents or Thorax being consumed. She feels her heart tearing, a burning growing behind her eyes. Hatefully, her mind plays back the sight of her parents and siblings in the Nightmare's tongue. Please stop! she thinks to herself. I don't want to remember them that way!
Smolder looks like she's bitten into something truly foul. "First, yikes! Second, changeling queens do that?" Ocellus bets Smolder is trying to picture Dragon Lord Ember or even Dragon Lord Torch cannibalizing disobedient dragons. "That's horrible! ...no offense."
Ocellus nods, trying not to cry again. She's done too much of that already tonight. Crying won't do any good right now. She's not surprised that Smolder is so shocked. Dragons may be apex predators, but she doubts their Dragon Lord ever ate other dragons. That was really an insect thing.
She looks up and sees how pale her Smolder is beneath her scales. The dragon is more than shocked. Ocellus knows what she is thinking about. She remembers Smolder's dismay: Because if she did, I ate them!
Smolder likewise sees the vulnerability in Ocellus' expression. She pulls herself together, snorting smoke. "Third, don't you worry. That is never going to happen. Even if they do get through, she'd have to deal with Headmare Starlight, and Princess Twilight, and the professors. Not to mention all of us. And I don't just mean your friends. Dragon Lord Ember would never allow Thorax and his people to be conquered and... eaten... by an evil queen."
Ocellus sniffs a bit, feeling Smolder's words like a comforting blanket. She cannot taste anything from her friend (girlfriend now?) -- the cocoon of Smolder's love is still blinding her. But she can hear Smolder's confidence in every syllable.
Ocellus returns that confidence with a thankful smile.
Doubt flickers in Ocellus' mind. If this changeling queen tried to overthrow Chrysalis, why didn't Chrysalis eat her? With any other mother, Ocellus would leap to the hope that it was because she cared about her daughter anyway, or at least succumbed to maternal instinct. But she had a hard time imagining either from her former queen. In the very least, why didn't Chrysalis eat the drones who supported Elytra?
Her thoughts jump to the mirror. Luna said that passage to the moon wasn't an easy thing, requiring great sources of power. The Elements, anti-elements... even the mirror drew on the residual power of the Tree of Harmony that lived on in the Treehouse.
With a thin frown, Ocellus decides she is definitely a large step closer, but she doesn't yet understand why there are changelings on the moon. Or, at least, she doesn't understand how.
She catches Smolder watching her with clear concern. She tastes the air only to find again nothing but the delicious, wonderful barrier of cinnimon and rubies.
Why did she do that? Being temporarily bereft of her natural sense, Ocellus finds herself a little surprised just how often she uses it to gain insight into her friend's feelings. Even when there is no need.
Ocellus breaks her quiet. "We should be able to get through to the essence pools where Pharynx is now."
"Right." Smolder nods, looking up at the vent. "You sure we can't just fly?"
"We don't know what happened to our poltergeist," Ocellus reminds Smolder, personally hoping the Nightmare chased it off. "Plus, there are probably a lot more pseudolings in the pools room."
Ocellus reasons, "If we can slip past and strip Wrath away from Pharynx, that will end his control. Wouldn't that be smarter than trying to fight our way through all of them?"
"You only look like a dragon," Smolder teases. "Okay, more crawling. This time, you follow me. I'm tired of looking at my butt."
"I'm not!" Ocellus beams beatifically.
Smolder's cheeks grow rosy again. The dragon girl snorts, thrashing her tail. "Can you say that when you don't look like me?"
Ocellus gives Smolder a mischievous, smug smile. The kind that she knows looks so good on Smolder's face.
"Oh no!" Smolder-Ocellus whines as the two friends stare into the essence pools room through a large vent opening. "I'd forgotten about those."
The room is massive. Six huge pools are spread about the sides and corners of the room, filled with varying degrees of shimmering cerulean liquid that moves and sloshes on its own. Ocellus has seen that shade of blue often enough to know what she is seeing even without all Luna has told her -- raw, extremely condensed dark essence.
Massive pipes snake up the walls before elbowing towards the center of the room. They sweep away from the walls, suspended high above the floor below, and converge on a large central structure built downward from the ceiling -- a control center, Ocellus presumes, or an observational one. The entire suspended structure is enveloped in an oval of sheer, infinite black.
Two more pipes reach back to the wall on either side of the room and descend to arrays of onyx pillars. As they watch, flashes of ethereal white light erupt over half a dozen pillars on the near and far walls, pouring out smoke and oil. Columns of black flame erupt from the capitals beneath, creating cocoons of obsidian fire. The cocoons peel away, birthing new pseudolings.
The room was also absolutely teaming with pseudolings. There are scores standing at attention on the floor below. Groups fly in patrols throughout the room, but the mass of them stand or hover in formations, facing the bulkhead door into the Conservatory. Pharynx has already built an army.
The eight pipes remind Ocellus strangely of insect legs. Combined with the void barrier, the room look vaguely like a giant spider. She wonders if Smolder was seeing the same resemblance.
"Yona would love this room."
Ocellus looks at her friend, unsure if Smolder was being sincere or poking fun. Yona had a strong fear of spiders until she met Spindle. Now she rather liked them.
Ocellus changes the topic, returning to what she had somehow forgotten about. "Pharynx is inside that black barrier. With Wrath."
"You're sure?" Smolder asks.
Smolder-Ocellus nods. "Yes. I've seen this before. We have to look for a white, moon-shaped button."
The absurdness of the task hits Ocellus. In a room this huge, they might never find it even without Pharynx's false hive in the way! "It will be well-hidden and probably really difficult to reach. Think of it like a puzzle."
Smolder smirks. "Are you sure you didn't create this place?"
Smolder-Ocellus rolls her eyes (enjoying just a little the opportunity to do so). "Yeah, because I had this big Nightmare Moon fangirl phase."
Smolder fans out her claws. "Gothcellus!"
The dragon looks out through the vent opening. "I bet I found our button!"
Ocellus' draconic jaw drops as she lets out a Smolder-voiced squeak. "What? How? Where?"
"Right across from us." Smolder points out what appears to be another opening to a vent on the opposite wall. Only instead of the normal grate, this one has heavy bars sealing it.
Ocellus recalls her map. There are only utility rooms on this side of the Conservatory and essence pools. There shouldn't be a duct on the opposite wall.
Ocellus stares at her friend, impressed. "Y-yes, that looks likely." But they'd need to check it out to know for sure.
And what if the moon button is hiding behind those bars? Normally, this wouldn't even be a challenge. She'd just turn into a bugbear and rip the bars off. But not only would that draw the attention of an army of pseudolings, taking any other form would also bring the Nightmare down on them.
As Ocellus contemplates, a small group of pseudolings shift to hover right in front of the bars, making space for the next dozen to be birthed from the pillars.
Because things had to get worse.
"Uhhh, unless you've changed your mind about taking all of them on..." Smolder whispers.
Ocellus sighs. "We wait."
Either the pseudolings would move on their own, or the queen would find her way in here, and then they would move.
Smolder-Ocellus and Smolder recline in the cramped duct and wait for the pseudolings to move.
The crafter artifacts continue to pump out more pseudolings. Each is swiftly enveloped in an aura of red and rises to join the false hive.
They wait. And wait.
And wait...
After almost a full minute passes, Ocellus hears Smolder mumble something softly.
Ocellus turns to Smolder, keeping her own voice low. But not that low. "I'm sorry, what?"
Smolder mumbles again, marginally louder this time, not looking at her.
Ocellus gives her dragon friend a deadpan stare. "Smolder."
Smolder grits her teeth, hissing, "I said, do you want to talk about feelings?"
Ocellus' Smolder-eyes go wide and she stares at her friend, stunned. It takes a moment to make herself believe she heard that. "I thought dragons don't do that," she whispers.
Smolder waves her claws in quick protest. "We don't! We really don't." Turning to face Ocellus, she whispers back, "But you changelings really do. You have a whole Feelings Forum. And I thought... since we have to wait... and with everything that has happened... how badly what the queen said hit you, and what happened back in the clock room, and you having to become like one of them, and not to mention my trying to hoard you..." Smolder stops, realizing she is rambling.
Her friend takes a deep breath. Then offers softly, "I thought that maybe you might need to."
Ocellus continues to stare, but no longer in shock. What Smolder is doing strikes her heart. She's being so kind and sweet. Ocellus feels wetness in her eyes. She finds herself tasting the cocoon of Smolder's love again.
Ocellus whispers back, "Okay."
The lovebug reflects on the mess of her emotions. So much has happened. So much of it is confusing. Too much of it feels heavy and filled with shadows. Some of it might break her to think about. If it did, she knows she can trust Smolder to pick up the pieces. She remembers the dragon waving her lantern in front of her face, bringing her out of nothingness. But she can't go to pieces here; she can't put that on Smolder right now.
Ocellus takes a breath and opts for something lighter. For Smolder's benefit. Just talking will be helpful, even if she doesn't go anyplace too deep.
"So, you told Gallus how you felt about me?"
Smolder blinks, surprised by the question. Then she chuckles a little.
"Yeah. Couple weeks ago." Smolder jabs a claw at Ocellus. "You were there."
"What?" Ocellus starts, almost forgetting to keep her voice down. "No I wasn't! I'm very sure I'd remember that."
Unless, Ocellus thinks, Smolder is pointing at my Smolder-disguise. Meaning that Smolder is saying she was there. But that would be a really odd thing to say. ...okay, Smolder was right. This is weird.
"I'm a bit surprised you don't, but then you were mostly asleep." Smolder smirks. Ocellus gives her a look.
"It was a week ago last Wednesday. You didn't come back to the room, so around midnight I went looking for you. You were in the first place I looked: the library. You'd been helping Gallus study for that big test in Headmare Starlight's class, and you spent so long on it you fell asleep. I found you with your head buried against his side like he was a big, feathery Gallus-pillow."
Ocellus feels herself blushing just a little.
"Gallus saw me staring and asked if I was jealous."
Ocellus humphs. He would!
Smolder rubs her left arm with her right claw. "And I said: yeah, a little."
Ocellus feels the blush growing. She doesn't tease about the "a little" bit. She doesn't want to interrupt. And the cocoon of Smolder's love isn't leaving any question that Smolder was downplaying her feelings.
Smolder looks down. "I think Gallus was feeling a bit lonely. I mean, Yona's been going out with Sandbar for over a year. And now he sees the two of us. So unless he and Silverstream fall for each other..."
Ocellus perks. "Ooh! I'd totally ship them!"
Smolder looks at her with befuddlement. "Ship them where? For what?"
Ocellus sighs dramatically, putting the back of a claw on her forehead."No, no. Ship. Short for relationship. It means I can daydream about them in love."
Smolder stares blankly at Ocellus for several long seconds as she processes that, her mouth opening and closing twice without saying anything. "I suppose it's a given for changelings to be romantics."
I offered you power! A place at my side! But instead of love, I got betrayal!
"I think Pharynx would disagree with that," Ocellus replies.
Smolder looks out at the growing pseudoling military force. "Oh, right."
The two friends are quiet for a few moments, watching the pseudoling squads shift position. Several patrols exit through the utility rooms, weaving their way into the Conservatory, but Pharynx keeps the bulkhead doors shut.
Ocellus wonders briefly about those doors. Why so much shielding between the essence pools and the Conservatory? She supposes it makes sense that Nightmare Moon would want to protect this place. Maybe the reason Queen Elytra's changelings haven't invaded it is because the room is also warded like the Throne Room?
"Anyway, Gallus asked why I fell for you. And how," Smolder finally continues. "I couldn't answer either of those, though. I don't know why or how. It just... happened."
A smile grows on Smolder's face. "But I could tell him why I'm the luckiest dragon ever!"
Ocellus listens intently. Like every changeling, she knows love doesn't always make sense, and that people don't pick who they fall in love with. (Although Smolder's realization probably came from a more wholesome place than a lecture by Chrysalis on Why We Don't Farm.)
"While I do like cute stuff..."
Ocellus feels a jolt, driving her to interrupt. "You told him that?!"
Smolder's eyes widen. Then narrow. The dragon thrusts a claw at Ocellus, snorting a touch of flame. "No! That's still our secret!"
Ocellus feels herself smiling. She likes that being a secret between them. She knows their other friends would be okay with it. (Although Gallus would probably tease Smolder relentlessly.) But Smolder herself still isn't comfortable coming out of that closet to anyone else. And Ocellus finds that makes her feel special. The secret tea parties are their private thing.
Settling back down, Smolder reveals, "What I did tell him is that I hate mushy stuff. Dragons don't do mushy. On the list of pony holidays that dragons don't do, Hearts and Hooves Day is at the top."
"So how lucky am I that my heart feels like this for someone who can sense that? Someone who I never need to be mushy with because she already knows exactly how I feel?"
Smolder's eyes stare into the essence pools room, but focus on nothing. "I don't ever have to say things that I don't know how to say, or that might come out wrong, or that can get all messed up... because you know what I feel better than I can word..."
Ocellus can hear Smolder trying to find just the right way to express this. How ironic is it that right now she can't sense the love coming off of Smolder? But then, she doesn't have to. She is literally wrapped in it.
Ocellus provides the word Smolder needs. "Unambiguously."
Smolder nods, a grateful look in her eyes. Then sighs. "Even this is something I wouldn't want to say except to you. I'm surprised I told Gallus. It could so easily sound like I chose you because it would be easy for me or something."
Ocellus understands. "But I know you didn't. Your love wouldn't taste true if you did."
The two sit in warm silence. Beyond the duct, Pharynx' army grows, preparing for battle.
"What else did you two talk about?" Ocellus finally asks.
"Nothing. You were already stirring from our voices. I really thought you heard us."
Ocellus remembers how quickly and with how much certainty she had realized Gallus knew how Smolder feels because Smolder had told him. "I think maybe I did subconsciously. But consciously I hadn't worked any of it out yet."
Smolder nods. "Okay. Your turn."
Ocellus blinks. "My turn what?"
At Smolder's stare, Ocellus waves a claw. "Hey, I didn't have a conversation with Gallus while you snuggled cutely against him like he was a blue, fluffy Gallus-pillow."
Smolder snorts at her in mild frustration. "Your turn to tell me something that could be taken bad if we didn't know each other so well. That's how the Feelings Forum works, isn't it?"
Not exactly. But surprisingly close.
Ocellus feigns wide-eyed surprise. "Smolder, you were paying attention when I was telling everyone about our Feelings Forum!"
"Of course I was. And that was a dodge. Spill."
Ocellus takes a deep breath. This was going to be awkward.
"I was first attracted to you because you didn't want to be at the school."
Smolder is staring, confused and maybe more. Ocellus quickly clarifies.
"Not romantically attracted. Not then, I mean... I..." She stops, straightening the bookshelf of her thoughts so all the books are in proper order. "It was the first day of school. Thorax and I had flown directly to Ponyville. It was my first time outside the hive since we changed. The first time I'd been around that many non-changelings..."
The look of confusion in Smolder's face is gone. Her friend (girlfriend?) is clearly remembering that day too. Ocellus' voice drops to a Smolder-worthy mumble.
"...not counting when we attacked Canterlot, and love wasn't the emotion in the air then..."
Ocellus pauses as Smolder's eyes go wide. The dragon lifts a claw, then lowers it as she decides not to tangent. Still, Ocellus knows she will have to tell that story sooner or later.
Ocellus's voice returns to her normal whisper. "...and it was overwhelming. Not just the crowd, but the love. You have no idea how many creatures there actually loved getting to be at the school."
Or loved seeing their kids go. Or loved Princess Twilight. Or a dozen other flavors of love that just saturated the air that day.
Smolder coughs into her fist. A cough that sounds suspiciously like "Sandbar".
Ocellus giggles and return-coughs with "Silverstream".
Their eyes meet, identical amusement playing across their faces. As one, Smolder and Ocellus cough "Yona"!
The giggling is brief but good. Ocellus feels better, bolstered to go on.
"There was so much love in that room. Too much for me to handle. And it was everywhere, coming from all directions, except one." She looks into Smolder's eyes. "You were like an oasis. I needed to get closer to you. I was drowning."
"But you were a dragon! I knew ponies had invited us changelings, but I didn't know if a dragon would let a changeling even get close to her. So..."
Smolder finishes, "So you became a dragon."
Ocellus nods. She breaks the shared gaze, looking down at the vines covering the floor of the duct. "Not any particular dragon. Just... me, only dragon. But that's the only way I thought I could be near you."
Ocellus feels Smolder's tail wrap around her. After a moment of quiet, Smolder smiles and speaks up. "We've changed a lot since then. I love being at the school now."
Ocellus blushes. "Oh, I know."
She pauses, related thoughts from earlier in the night crashing in. "And I don't do that anymore. I've never changed into a griffin or a yak..."
She stops, realizing she was about to make two statements, neither of which are true: I've never changed into a hippogriff and I don't change just to be comfortable anymore. She did the first earlier today. For... reasons? And the confidence she had in the second crumbles away almost instantly as she remembers having turned into a dragon without realizing it. Or the times this year she has woken up in the wrong form, despite having told Smolder their first day rooming together that she never does that. How can she say those changes aren't for comfort when she doesn't even know why she's changing?
Smolder says, "We've noticed."
Ocellus blinks, taking a second to remember what she had just said before her train of thought derailed.
"I took the form of a hippogriff today," Ocellus admits to Smolder. "I don't even know why. I don't know why I didn't turn into a dragon. I needed to lift something heavy. A dragon would have been a better choice."
Ocellus can hear a note of worry creeping into her voice. Except when she is trying to amuse her friends, her transformations are always utilitarian. And she already had a dragon in her repertoire. Why did she create a whole new form, one that was less suited to the task? She hadn't even thought about it first.
"This was before you met Gallus, right?" Smolder susses. "When you thought you were alone up here."
Now it is Ocellus' turn to be confused. How did Smolder know that? And why does her friend seem absolutely not surprised at what she did?
Ocellus nods slowly. "What does that have to do with it?"
"You were alone. Your friends were literally a world away. Of course you would," Smolder replies. "I get it."
Ocellus' head is full of confusion. Whatever Smolder is getting, she doesn't. She wants to ask: well, then could you explain it to me?
Before the young changeling can grow frustrated, Smolders puts a claw to her face. The dragon's eyes tell her that Smolder sees her confusion, and that Ocellus doesn't even have to ask.
"Remember the story I told you at our second tea party?"
Ocellus is surprised at the question. But she absolutely trusts Smolder is leading her where she needs to go. She thinks back. The first tea party was very simple and a bit awkward, and their conversations were pointless. Smolder had been nervous enough about just having a tea party, so they kept it shallow.
The second time, they talked about liking cute things. And that was when Smolder opened up more than she ever had before.
"It's not just that I'm a dragon and dragon society doesn't do cute. There's that, and that's enough to make liking cute things hard. But not to make admitting it a 'greatest fear'," Smolder tells her.
"It wasn't just my environment. I was taught that dragons don't like cute. By my parents. By Dragon Lord Torch..."
Ocellus remembers her surprise at that. She had never imagined the former Dragon Lord spending his time with young dragons, much less teaching Smolder. She was right not to, as Smolder told her.
"It was my first baby dragon hatching season... well, technically my second... and I made the mistake of calling the hatching dragons "cute". Dragon Lord Torch heard me -- it's the duty of the Dragon Lord to oversee hatching season -- and he really let me know my mistake. Dragons aren't cute. Dragons don't like cute. Dragons are fierce and strong. End of lesson."
Ocellus remembers how vulnerable Smolder looked, sitting there in her pretty dress, holding her tea. How quiet she had gotten.
Smolder's claw is still on her face. The dragon girl's voice has a softness Smolder reserves only for her. The touch of her claw seems impossibly gentle. "The first day of school? I was right there. I heard what he said to you."
He? Thorax! Her King.
Stay in your own form! It's the polite thing to do.
"And it clearly wasn't the first time."
We've talked about this. What did I tell you?
Smolder sighs. Love and melancholy dance in her eyes. "You're still the only creature I feel comfortable being cute with. Before the Tree of Harmony made us face our fears? I would sometimes enjoy cute things when I was sure I was all alone. And even then, I felt guilty about doing so. Like I was a bad dragon."
"I think that when a big authority figure that you respect tells you something is wrong, you believe it. And even if you later learn it's okay, there's a part of you that doesn't. So you still don't do it. Or when you do, even though you know it is okay, part of you feels like you're doing something wrong. Something..." Smolder waves a paw, her words trailing off.
Ocellus finishes for her. "Something impolite."
Smolder got it.
Ocellus feels revelation washing over her. She had no problems becoming a puckwudgie or a bat to try to make friends with critters, but that wasn't the same as taking a risk with the creatures close and dear to her. She never became a yak or a griffin... or a hippogriff until today. Because unlike becoming a seapony to save Yona from drowning, the situation never demanded it. And without that, she was uncomfortable taking her friends' forms. They would be fine with it. But she wouldn't, because part of her was irrationally afraid they wouldn't be. She didn't take their forms because...
...I don't want to taint my feeding pool...
...she didn't want to risk making her friends upset.
The interrupting thought hits her like cold water. Oh. Oh wow. She wasn't just being afraid; she was being selfish.
Was her reluctance just part of her facade? Not only letting who she was be determined by how others felt towards her, but who she wasn't by fear of the same? Or was this part of who she really was? The elusive self she feels she has lost. If this is the real her, Ocellus doesn't think she likes herself.
Another thought strikes her, bringing a surge of guilt. "Except I did that with you. I was so desperate to be near you that I didn't care about being impolite."
Smolder shrugs. "That was then. You were in a bad situation, and you didn't know me. And now you do."
"Y-yes. And I still take that form. Because I know it's safe. I know you don't mind... that you kinda like me doing it, even."
Now it is Smolder's turn to blush.
Ocellus whispers, "Still... I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Smolder admonishes warmly. "Ocellus, you are the only person I feel okay being cute with. The only friend who I can really be myself around. I'm happy that I could be your oasis. And I'm happy you can be yourself with me."
Ocellus feels no confidence for Smolder's assertion that she is "being herself". But maybe... maybe Smolder is right? And maybe it isn't so bad, or at least natural.
"Th-thank you."
Smolder sits back, smirking. "For what?" She holds her arms wide. "I literally haven't told you anything you didn't already know."
Ocellus rolls her eyes again. Maybe subconsciously, or deep down, or something. But having the puzzle pieces isn't the same as a completed puzzle, especially when you don't know what the picture is supposed to be. Ocellus opens her mouth, intent on saying so...
DOOM!!
Above the bulkhead doors, the ceiling and far wall of the essence pools room buckles. Cracks spiderweb through the stone. Arcane patterns and eldritch symbols of moonlight flare across every part of the room, from the walls and ceiling to the pipes and pool walls.
Ocellus realizes she was right. The essence pools room is warded. But they won't hold. The magical bulwark cannot withstand the Nightmare. Now she understands why the Nightmare didn't come after her immediately when it invaded the Conservatory. Queen Elytra created It for a second purpose. It is her ward-breaker.
DOOM!!!
Subtle flashes erupt across the arcane patterns as the wards burst and collapse. With an ear-piercing scream of abused metal and unspeakable horror, the Nightmare tears its way into the room, the queen riding high on Its back and a full hive of love-starved changelings swarming in around them.
The pseudolings immediately lift into defensive formations. Blasts of hateful crimson light meet lime-green collision barriers.
The duct is left unguarded.
Ocellus kicks out the vent cover, not worried about adding a little noise to the cacophony of the battle.
Smolder's shoulder presses hard against the bars covering the false duct, her arm straining as she reaches as far into the hole as she can. The tips of her claws lightly scratch the bark-like surface of a mass of vines.
Smolder grunts, "I'm pretty sure I see that button, but it's deep in there. I can barely touch the vines it's hidden behind."
Ocellus nods, not glancing at Smolder, trying to look everywhere else at once. She is their lookout while Smolder tries to get at the moon button which will lower the void shield.
All about her is chaos. The air is filled with flashes of red and green light. Ocellus counts it a small miracle they were able to sneak across the room without drawing attention from those fighting on either side.
Throughout the cavernous room, Pharynx's pseudoling army is battling Queen Elytra, her love-starved drones, and her Nightmare. Queen Elytra never leaves Its back, standing on It like a general rallying and commanding her forces.
An explosion on the far end of the room tears apart one of the pipes. Ocellus spins to see a waterfall of glowing cerulean pour from the dangling pipe. A drone spasms in the glowing pool beneath, lime electricity grounding through the pool. A quartet of pseudolings hover over her, spreading their forelegs and unleashing the rage in their hearts.
Queen Elytra's drones include several needle-changed monstrosities, including the fire'ling. They wreak terrifying havok, mostly on Pharynx's hive. But even Queen Elytra's other drones are careful to fly clear of them. Ocellus keeps watch for the poltergeist, but the dead drone has not shown itself.
A dozen drones surrounded in auras of red swoop upwards in formation, spreading their forelegs and sending a barrage of crimson death down on two stained-glass Nightmare Moons. One gets off a blast of lightning that strikes the center pseudoling in the formation and arcs to two more in the instant before the rage beams shatter the transformed changelings.
Pharynx's false drones don't have a real changeling's abilities, much less the catastrophic bag of tricks that Queen Elytra has armed her drones with. In the first moments, drones with sprayers took pseudolings out of the air by the dozens. But Pharynx quickly focused on them, his pseudolings attacking from every side. Their crimson beams of wrath slaughtered the sprayer-armed drones, while a dozen onyx pillars churned out new ones to replace the fallen.
Tears spill down Ocellus' cheeks. At first, the sight was too much for Ocellus. Everywhere she looks, changelings are dying!
But now, the pain and sorrow are bleeding away to a numbness. Upon that dead feeling, Ocellus builds a bulwark of grim determination.
To save Pharynx, to stop the battle and spare as many as they can. But most of all, to get Smolder and her other friends home.
Tentacles of greasy black smoke snare two pseudolings out of the air, swinging them about then smashing them together hard enough to shatter chitin and pulp the flesh and organs inside. In the center of the battle, the Nightmare tears into everything within reach that has a red aura, like a primordial horror unleashed.
Ocellus is both surprised that the Nightmare hasn't let loose a panic-inducing roar yet and thankful for it. Her best guess is that the Queen Elytra either believes the pseudolings would be unaffected, or she is cautious knowing that her own drones will be.
Either way, Ocellus' and Smolder's plan would be done for if It did. And most likely, so would they.
"If my arms were longer, I might be able to cut these, but I still couldn't reach it," Smolder announces with a huff. "Besides, you said cutting the vines is bad."
"Yes," Ocellus calls back. There's no point whispering. They can barely hear each other when they shout. "Especially the purple ones."
Well, maybe not in their case. Smolder swims in molten lava for fun; she couldn't really be hurt by fire. And they were both Smolder...
"I think these are all purple," Smolder notes.
Ocellus turns towards Smolder, opening her muzzle to suggest that might actually be fine. But as soon as she does, half a dozen reasons why it might be horrible start tumbling through her head. Not the least of them being that these vines were likely filled with highly-concentrated dark essence from the vats below.
"Maybe I should just back up and burn them away." Smolder backs away an arm's length. "One good breath should do it. Any 'ling looking our way?"
From the corner of her eye, flashes of green energy grab Ocellus' attention. She takes one glance, then jolts forward, pushing Smolder. Almost fast and hard enough to push her clear.
The rocketing drone's collison barrier strikes Smolder in the dragon's left wing, spinning her like a top and sending her crashing into the railing of a catwalk above one of the essence pools. The kamikaze changeling slams into the wall, skidding along it, tearing a groove in the stone.
"SMOLDER!"
The young orange dragon bounces off the railing, hits the edge of the essence pool and falls to the ground, groaning and stunned. Too slowly for Ocellus' heart, Smolder sits up, holding her head then cradling her wing. She flexes it gently, wincing in pain.
Smolder looks up at her, shouting, "I'll be all right!"
Relief rushes into Ocellus' heart. She has never been so happy that dragons are hardy. That hit would have torn her wing off! Smolder is so tough.
Ocellus starts to fly down to her friend, but is stopped as a shout pierces the din of war. Even as drones fall around her, Queen Elytra screams over the raging cacophony of battle. Her voice no longer sounds like that of the young changeling queen Ocellus and Yona fought together earlier. Her voice is that of the Nightmare.
"I'M COMING FOR YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"
The queen seems focused on the black shell around Pharynx's tiny empire. The changeling nymph doubts Pharynx can hear her.
So why is the queen bothering? Ocellus' mind flashes back to Queen Elytra screaming into the captured pseudoling. Pharynx is connected to all of them. He must sense everything his "hive" can.
Ocellus' heart is gripped by a wrenching feeling of alarm. She suddenly hopes for his sake that he isn't feeling every death as his pseudolings are being killed in droves. She desperately wants to see him reunited with her King. That happy reunion wilts if Thorax's brother is being unspeakably traumatized.
"I was everything mother wanted me to be! Everything she made me! But once... just ONCE!... I tried to be my own being! Tried to take something for MYSELF! And in response, she takes ALL MY POWER from me and BANISHES ME here!"
Ocellus' eyes widen as she takes in Queen Elytra's words. Maybe Smolder had it wrong? Was Elytra a usurper? Did she try to overthrow Queen Chrysalis?
Or was she a deserter? Did she try to establish her own hive, taking some of her mother's drones with her? Either would have been utter treason in the mind of Queen Chrysalis.
Ocellus looks to her other side, eyes following the groove torn in the wall to the drone who made it. The kamikaze comet ended her flight against one of the giant pipes, denting it in severely. Condensed, liquid essence sprays from a crack, coating the changeling as the drone gets her hooves beneath her again.
Ocellus looks behind her at the barred hole that the button is buried in. Behind vines that are themselves just out of Smolder's reach. Her own dragon form has longer arms, but it is only the perfect disguise crafted by Smolder's love that keeps the Nightmare from descending on her and ripping her apart.
Queen Elytra screams at the void, "Tell me: how is that JUST!? HOW IS THAT RIGHT!??"
Ocellus looks down, seeing Smolder stand up, still rubbing her wing. The lovebug feels something break inside her chest as she sees tears in the dragon's eyes. But Smolder's eyes burn with determination, her expression worried but her stance undaunted.
Ocellus whispers, "I know what to do."
"My only crime was wanting independence! DO I NOT MERIT IT!? Mother wanted me shackled! A lifetime of imprisonment for ONE MOMENT of freedom? DO I NOT DESERVE MY REVENGE!??"
Ocellus calls down to Smolder, "Stay there. Use Gallus' crossbow! I'll clear the way!"
Ocellus closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. The conversation with Smolder still burns at the forefront of her mind. As does the kiss. Her first kiss.
Way to hurt Smolder, Ocellus, she thinks to herself suddenly. Smolder deserved a better first kiss.
She pushes the thought from her head, thinking back to something more comforting. War screams around her. Creatures are dying. It's hard to believe that just yesterday morning, she was at the School of Friendship, her biggest worry about a test and her night terrors. Yesterday, her friends saw she was in a bad state, and they all gathered around her. Hugged her. Loved her.
Ocellus opens her eyes.
Smolder was right. She didn't need to kiss the dragon to get the love she needed for her perfect Smolder disguise. She didn't even need the love that was filling the room as she stepped close.
Ocellus concentrates, wrapping herself in love as her body is engulfed in turquoise flame.
She opens her eyes as Gallus, wearing her friend's love as a perfect disguise.
Gallus-Ocellus looks about. The drone who hurt Smolder has been joined by two others. Green bursts in front of them as they form their collision barriers.
Fortunately for Ocellus, the trio's ocelli are on her, not below. Their magic has attracted enemy eyes. Several pseudoling drones fresh from the nearest artifact begin blasting beams of red fury at them, the rage-lasers bouncing off two of the drone's shields. The third is struck from behind, the impact killing her and splattering her corpse against the wall.
The two remaining drones turn towards their attackers. One of them transforms into a moonshark. Ocellus turns away as the moonshark opens its maw, diving at the pseudolings. She has two seconds, maybe three, before they are on her.
The blue griffin Ocellus returns to the false duct and thrusts herself against the bars, reaching in. Gallus' arms are longer. His talons are larger with longer claws. Ocellus feels those talons snare and grasp around vines. She clinches as much as she can in her grip, planting her powerful lion hindpaws against the wall and pushing off with all the strength Gallus could muster.
The vines rip and the air around her rapidly fills with purple-black smoke. It geysers out of multiple rent vines under immense pressure, blasting out the hole and expanding into an enormous smokescreen.
Gallus-Ocellus somersaults backwards through the billowing smoke, flipping twice as a streak of green energy tears through the purple-black clouds where she had been an eyeblink before. She hears the thunder of the changeling's kamikaze crash, but she cannot see it. Nor what happened to the other one. The cloud of obfuscation is so thick that Ocellus can barely tell which direction is up.
But she does see red auras closing on her fast. Likely chasing the changeling that just shot by, but that won't matter when they spot her.
Ocellus yaws about, tumbling in the air as she tries to master unfamiliar wings. She closes her eyes and once more draws on her collection of love. She is mildly surprised when the turquoise flash of her own magic doesn't ignite the rapidly-expanding smokescreen. Her eyes open to see herself surrounded by angry pseudoling drones, each surrounded in a turbulent ruby aura.
Ocellus is Smolder again. She smiles a smug little Smolder smile with Smolder's cute, smug-looks-so-good-on-me muzzle. Then folds her wings and drops. A second later, she unfurls her dragon wings, catching air and swoops downward away from the pseudolings who are turning to pursue.
Ocellus opens her Smolder-muzzle and breathes dragonfire.
The smoke ignites. The air all around her catches fire. The essence pool room erupts in a roiling, pyrotechnic firestorm.
Smolder-Ocellus flies down through the broiling, rolling waves of fire. It's pleasantly warm against her draconic scales. She understands a little how Smolder must enjoy lava-bathing. But she'd rather be able to see. She knows what is down, so down she goes. For a moment, her eyes reflect the brilliant light, shining with the fire, neither harmed nor dried by it. Then she closes them anyway. Takes a very deep breath. And draws on the love of her friends.
Mixed berries, with notes of cotton candy and wakame. Seapony Silverstream-Ocellus hits the essence pool with a splash and immediately begins swimming.
Ocellus pops her Silverstream-head out of the liquid essence, feeling it fizzle against her scales like a carbonated soda. Above her, the last flickers of the firestorm burn the air clean. The drones -- changeling and pseudoling alike -- have taken cover. She wants to look for Smolder, but there is no time. Instead, she orients herself and takes another deep breath before plunging below the surface.
Ocellus swims as fast as Silverstream can, her lungs already burning. Her seapony instincts are screaming at her to just breathe. But even though she has gills, Ocellus does not want to breathe in the dark essence of Nightmare Moon. The hyper-condensed, liquified blue smoke feels almost acidic, broiling off her scales as she moves through it -- as if destabilizing or decomposing at her touch. Nothing in all of Equestria could convince her that would be wise to take a breath.
Her aim is true. Ocellus finds the pipe, her swim becoming vertical. She has done this before as a seapony, the real Silverstream by her side. Laughing as they raced straight up from the Seaquestrian depths. Her mind flashed back to racing through the salty water, pursued by the giant squid, dodging and darting about the coral. Silverstream was faster, consummately adapted to the world that had been her home. She was a breathtaking swimmer.
The vertical swim shifts abruptly to a nearly horizontal one, the pipe guiding her towards the structure above the pools. Ocellus prays Smolder has gotten to the button before she reaches the void barrier. Otherwise, this infiltration...
Before she can even complete the thought, Ocellus realizes she is through, swimming beyond where the barrier would have stopped her. Her heart wants to burst almost as much as her lungs. Smolder has done it!
In her mind, she pictures the dragon girl firing off an expert shot with Gallus' toy crossbow and whooping a victory dance as the sponge bolt sails between the bars and hits the moon-button like a dragon girl swooping in for a perfectly-aimed kiss on a changeling... and her lungs are on fire; she NEEDS AIR!
She's unsure what to expect at the end of the pipe. Given other elements of the palace design, she is hoping for a maintenance hatch. One she can find before the bags of burning coals that her lungs have become explode. She isn't expecting the pipe to stop so abruptly. Nor for the tank at the end to be made of glass.
The tank shatters as Silverstream-Ocellus' head smashes into it at full Silverstream swim speed. Ocellus comes spilling out of the tank and onto the metal floor, flopping like a fish whose aquarium has ruptured. Her head is spinning and throbbing.
A flash of turquoise (this time without need to draw on different love) and the pink hippogriff Silverstream-Ocellus hops up, shaking furiously, flinging liquid dark essence everywhere but her.
Silverstream-Ocellus opens her eyes, looking around. The room is primarily constructed of dark metal. The floor is an inch deep in liquid essence, and more is pouring in. The cerulean glow lights up the room. From the pipes and machinery, Ocellus suspects the room is some sort of pump station, although she has never been in one. Ironically, the nymph thinks, Silverstream would probably understand this room a lot better than she does. Her friend checked that plumbing book out of the library for seven straight weeks.
Ocellus quickly spots the one thing she is interested in: the door. Above it, bold words are written in flowy, Old Ponish. She cannot read them any more than she could read the cookbook untold hours ago, but she suspects the message is something to the tune of: CENTRAL ESSENCE CONTROL. The large metal hatch has no handle on this side. A small red light on the door announces it has no intention of letting her into the room beyond.
Ocellus doesn't care. She's come too far -- they've risked too much -- to be defeated by a locked door. She beats her hippogriff wings and shoots towards it, closing her eyes one more time...
Mushrooms, mint and a hint of green tea. A flash of turquoise magic.
Her hooves hit the floor running. She lowers her head as she charges the door.
"Yona-Ocellus SMASH!"
WHAM!!
The door never stood a chance. It explodes open with a resounding bang, the dented metal rebounding from the wall on its hinges.
The room beyond is lit only by the cerulean glow of liquid dark essence flowing through glass pipes, the soft multi-colored shine of gemstones imbedded into panels covered in buttons and switches, and the angry crimson emanating from Pharynx.
Crimson light surrounds him like an aura. His eyes blaze with it. Most of all, it pulses like a violent heartbeat from the jagged ruby prongs of the crown upon Pharnyx's head.
He's turned Wrath into a crown! Ocellus thinks, as she skids to a halt, staring at Thorax's brother. Or was it always like that?
Pharynx turns his glare at her. His stance is pure aggression. His face is so twisted with rage that Ocellus can barely recognize the Protector of her Hive.
Almost belatedly, she realizes Pharnyx cannot recognize her either. Even if some part of him is still in his right mind, she is Yona right now. Not only in appearance, but to changeling senses.
Pharnyx's elytra open and his wings beat like he is punishing the air. Around him, the crimson glow stretches across the floor to engulf drones that draw themselves up as if stirred from slumber.
Pharynx rises, and the six drones rise behind him, surrounding him like the numbers on a clock, their jagged horns blazing with scarlet magic.
In a flash of turquoise, Ocellus reverts to herself, allowing the cocoon of love to dissipate. Outside, she can hear the Nightmare roar! "PHARYNX! WAIT! IT'S ME! OCE--"
Six beams of Wrath-powered magic blast Ocellus, throwing her against the wall as her body explodes in agony. Then her mind drowns in blackness.
All senses are obliterated by nauseating vertigo. Ocellus sees stars detonating in the void. They're almost pretty. Her ears ring like all the bells of school are being crammed into them. Yet the changeling nymph knows that Pharynx pulled his punch at the last moment. Part of him must have recognized her. If he didn't, she'd be dead.
Dead would feel a whole lot better than this.
Pharnyx's voice is muffled by the ringing, but she hears him threatening Queen Elytra. Something about her foolishness? Setting him free? All of everything seems to be spinning.
Wait... did she believe Pharynx was using this place as his fortress? She did, or at least she thinks she did. But thoughts are elusive little bugs in her head that refuse to come together into a proper swarm. Yes? No. Thorax's brother wasn't hiding in here. Pharnyx was never the sort to cower and let others fight for him.
Ocellus feels the drones move on her, holding her down. She hadn't felt hitting the floor. Did she black out? She is dancing on a razor wire above the vast chasm of unconsciousness. And it hurts.
Ocellus tries to think, wishing she could transform into something that thinks better. And hurts less. She remembers Smolder is tough, and tries to be Smolder. Barbed hooks stab into her brain and pull, tearing apart her concentration. She feels like she screams, but she can't be sure.
Ocellus catches a thought-bug, examining it to distract herself. The mirror sent Pharynx to Wrath. Like it sent Gallus to Envy. The first void wall was sealing Envy away. If she hadn't turned it off, Gallus would have been trapped too.
This had been Pharynx's prison. Now he was free. And taking the fight to Queen Elytra directly.
Ocellus feels two of the drones stop holding her. Abruptly.
"GET OFF HER!"
Grating voice. But pleasantly so. Familiar. The taste of rubies.
Ocellus whimpers, "...smolder..."
She hears the thud as another of the drones is knocked off of her. Scarlet flashes of the drones' magic cut through the darkness clouding her vision. Ocellus tries again to transform -- a bugbear -- to throw them off like she did the broom-changelings in the closet. Fresh agony claws through the back of her skull, and the flashes of light she sees are from inside her head.
Ocellus doesn't scream. But she moans and very nearly vomits. Two more thuds. Then a moment of quiet beyond the slowly fading ringing. Ocellus feels rough paws tipped with sharp claws gently take her by the foreleg.
"Ocellus?" Smolder's voice. Her wonderful, sweet, raspy voice.
"You saved me. Twice." Ocellus tries to move, shifting enough to spot her friend kneeling next to her. "You... shot the button..."
Smolder blinks. Then smirks. "A hole behind bars and a bunch of torn vines spitting fire? Pfft, yeah, I'm that good."
The dragon girl holds a smug pose for just a moment before letting reality wash it away like a sandcastle on the beach. "I broke the wings off Gallus' toy crossbow, reached into the flames with it, and bashed it around until it hit the button."
Ocellus laughs a little. It hurts, but it also feels good.
"Are you okay?" Smolder asks.
Ocellus starts to shake her head, then stops herself, thinking better of it. Her body hurts all over, but nothing feels broken, only deeply bruised. Her head... "No. I think I have a concussion."
She tries to get her other hooves under her, but reality swims and she buckles with nausea. She can hear the storm of battle beyond the metal walls, but they are muffled by the ringing in her ears.
"I can't..."
Smolder huffs, putting a claw on her shoulder. "Stop trying."
The thought bugs are swarming now. The ringing is much softer but still persists. Ocellus can see... Smolders, several, blurring and shifting about, trying to resolve into just one. The world about her feels hollow. But that hollowness is being filled by strawberry and habanero and a hint of ruby, only sweeter. Ruby frosting? Smolder's love, fuzzy and off, but definitely her love.
Ocellus moans, trying to get up again. Only to slump back to the floor. This time, she does shake her head -- slowly to minimize the flashes of light inside her skull.
Smolder sits back, her tone casual. "So, how did it feel to finally become your friends?"
Ocellus recognizes the question for what it is. Smolder is trying to coax her into not getting up again, at least for a minute or two. She isn't sure they have that. But she takes the offering anyway, her body thanking her.
"I... I feel okay. It felt... it felt good." Not being in their forms, she thinks, but drawing on their love to keep herself safe. "They were here with me, helping me. Even when they weren't."
And it was true. Even if Gallus and Yona were elsewhere in Nightmare Moon's Palace, even though Silverstream isn't on the moon at all, their love is. And their love helped her even in their physical absence.
With a moment of throbbing-headed contemplation, Ocellus adds,"I kinda feel bad about not turning into Sandbar."
Smolder's eyebrows raise. "Why didn't you?"
Because my changes were still utilitarian, Ocellus thinks. "I didn't need the abilities of a pony to solve the puzzle."
Smolder shrugs, accepting that. "Maybe later you'll need to defeat the queen through song?"
Ocellus frowns. "Singing isn't a pony thing."
Smolder gives her a skeptical look. "You clearly haven't been paying attention. Ponies will break into entire musicals over hayfries. Ponies who are complete strangers will magically know all the words and join in. We've seen it."
"Smolder, we've sung."
Smolder waves a claw dismissively. "Yeah, sure. But only in Equestria. And only with at least one pony." She raises an eyebrow, challenging, "Have changelings burst into spontaneous songs like that anywhere else? Because I know dragons don't. And Gallus says griffins don't."
Outside, changelings from a love-starved hive are dying. A battle is raging. King Thorax's brother is in danger... and they're talking about this? Ocellus feels a guilty absurdity. But her brain feels like it is assaulting her skull. Her whole body aches. She needs this moment, physically and mentally, to put herself back together enough to do... anything useful.
"Maybe it's just part of Equestria's magic then," Ocellus offers.
Smolder counters, "Silverstream's brother says the CMC did the song thing at Mount Aris. Seriously, you should go Sandbar and sing Queen Elytra's hive to our side or something."
Ocellus gives Smolder a look. "No."
The dragon -- again multiple Smolders as her vision blurs -- is smugging back at her mischievously.
Ocellus sighs. "I'm going to have so much for sharing in the next Feelings Forum."
The Smolders laugh.
Something slams into the outer wall of the pump station beyond the control room, echoing through the structure. The nymph feels a slight vibration beneath her.
Ocellus hates to dampen that laughter. But she needs to. "We... can't wait. We need to stop... Pharynx. Before he... turns into Torch and destroys the whole palace... or something."
The multiple Smolders snap together into a single, very shocked-looking, orange dragon girl. "Pharynx can become Dragon Lord Torch!??" she cries with disbelief. "Ocellus, he's as big as a mountain!"
Ocellus smiles weakly. "I could become him if I'd ever met him."
Smolder's eyes are as wide as Ocellus has ever seen them. Her pupils shrink to slits. Her lovely blue irises are small islands in those pools of white. They dart side to side as the dragon processes something horrifying.
Ocellus feels a shot of worry, suddenly certain Smolder is remembering how their races once threatened war and facing a severe reassessment of how that could go. Or her friend was recalling her encounter with the former Dragon Lord, the lesson Smolder had told her about so vulnerably.
Ocellus jumps to pull her friend from damaging or painful paths of thought. "You're thinking that Thorax could make Ember call him 'daddy', aren't you."
Smolder's irises widen quickly. The dragon blinks three times in rapid succession. Her muzzle twists into a scowl. She huffs smoke.
Smolder had not been imagining that. But now she is. And it's all Ocellus' fault. The lovebug smiles a little, almost feeling bad for that.
Smolder snorts a lick of flame. "You're terrible. I hate you."
She doesn't. There is no malice or real bitterness in her voice. No anger in her expression. And what Ocellus' receptors are tasting certainly isn't hate.
The cocoon of love that blinded her is gone. She can taste the love Smolder is feeling right now, even if the taste is muted -- just an ingredient within much more complex emotions. And the flavor is wonky from head trauma. Still, she feels reunited with a lost friend. And behind that, a touch of guilt.
The changeling nymph shuts down her receptors. Ocellus doesn't need to taste Smolder's love to know the dragon is joking. Rather, Ocellus thinks that maybe she is using her love-sense far too much. She has let what she senses become more than a source of nourishment or a thing to be cherished. She had let it become a director of her actions.
That sense is part of her, part of every changeling. It cannot be a crutch, and it would be foolish to be unwilling to use it. It would be like hating one of your ears. Or one of your eyes.
Like hating your own ocellus?
But she has let it become the friend who gets her to do things she wouldn't normally do. And if she wants to regain a more important sense -- her sense of self -- she needs to keep her receptors closed as much as possible until she weens herself from that bad habit.
"What I was thinking was: I'm really happy you guys have a Feelings Forum," Smolder protests. "Please keep doing..."
Both Ocellus' contemplation and Smolder's confession are seared away by a blast of heat coming through the open door and a thunderous, angry crackling. Followed by the screech of a thousand banshees.
Something SLAMS into the exterior with enough force to completely destroy the pump room and dent in the wall. Through the bent doorway, Ocellus sees nothing but fire.
Smolder gasps. "He did it! Pharynx turned into Torch!"
The dragon doesn't know that. But Ocellus finds it a fair assumption.
The crackling becomes a roar that Ocellus can only think of as a hurricane of fire. The world shakes and the hurricane is drowned out by a cataclysmic cacophony -- the shrieks of torn and twisted metal, the sound of shattering bone and stone, all backed by the percussion of an avalanche.
Ocellus cries out as the floor lurches under her, the entire control center jumping upwards several inches, then plunging nearly a yard. Ocellus's eyelids clinch tight as the moon seems to drop out from under her. The essence tubes shatter, sending glass and glowing liquid essence into the room. Through the bent doorway, she can see metal beams and chunks of ceiling falling from above.
The metal room becomes sweltering.
Something powerful hits again. The gap of the doorway becomes an open maw as the entire wall is torn away with a tortured squeal, leaving ragged ends of sheared metal. The entire central structure cants, the floor slanting. Liquid essence flows out to rain down on the firestorm below. Ocellus screams as she feels herself sliding down the wet floor. Her plunge over the rent metal edge is halted when Smolder's strong arms wrap around her.
"Don't worry, I gotcha!"
Below, the essence pool room is nothing but flames and debris. A jagged bramble patch of twisted metal and shattered rubble.
Ocellus has barely a moment to register the apocalypse. Where are all the changelings? The pseudolings? Ocellus doesn't see any'ling down there, but with all the smoke and wreckage...
Ocellus feels Smolder's grip loosen as something she sees robs her of her strength. In panic, Ocellus spreads her wings, her elytra having saved them from harm...
They're like armor for your wings. That's pretty amazing.
...and beats her wings furiously as she slips from Smolder's grip.
Her wings catch the scorched air, working far better than her legs. Ocellus falls only a few feet before coming to a hover.
She bites back calling out something rude to the dragon who dropped her and looks up.
There is no ceiling! Instead, the creature that Pharynx has become is framed in black that is studded with stars. He has torn right through the roof of Nightmare Moon's Palace, leaving utter destruction.
Pharynx has not become (the former) Dragon Lord Torch. Ocellus never really believed he would; she doubts they ever met. That was just the first thing she could think of to convey to Smolder how dangerous the enraged Protector of the Hive could possibly be.
Ocellus was not prepared for this. Although, she suspects, she is at least marginally more prepared than Smolder.
The bird of prey hovering above the wrecked palace is completely engulfed in flames. An aura of crimson fire blazes about him. The bird isn't made of fire -- not like that impossible fire thing she and Gallus encountered. Ocellus can make out a solid body and fiery feathers beneath the layers of inferno surrounding it. But Pharynx is on fire without burning. His eyes are golden suns. His beak and talons are huge and sharp enough to tear apart trees.
Ocellus knows about rocs. Smolder once told her about the gigantic avian predators that love to eat young dragons when they are suffering and vulnerable during their molts.
And Ocellus has studied all about phoenixes. Especially after Spike's story.
Pharynx has taken all the size and strength and ferocity of a roc and infused it into the form of a phoenix, creating a custom battle hybrid! Ocellus didn't know it is possible to mix and match qualities from forms in a repertoire. Is this something Wrath is allowing Pharynx to do? Or has the Protector of the Hive always been this good?
As Pharynx lowers his head to unleash another tsunami of flame, the nymph's ocelli catch a ruby gleam from within his crest. Wrath! Pharynx is still wearing the crown. Ocellus turns her gaze to Smolder, but the dragon is staring fixated at the giant phoenix above like it is an avenging angel.
Where did that comparison come from?
That's not fair, Ocellus scolds herself. Above her, Smolder is hovering as if pinned in place, her wings flapping slowly. Her tail hangs limply, her arms dangle at her sides. Her body language weeps of dismay.
Smolder's reaction is not that of somebody who is just embarrassed about the behavior of other dragons.
Ocellus cannot keep the thought from her mind. She tries to stomp on it like Yona would. She doesn't know that.
Spike told her dragons would steal the eggs of unborn phoenixes from their parents' nest and smash them. For fun. For sport.
Ocellus clinches her eyes shut. OIder, teenage dragons! she reminds herself. That's what Spike said. But Smolder's reaction...
Ocellus opens her eyes and stares up at her girlfriend. Smolder's wings are barely flapping. Just enough to keep her aloft. All the energy has gone out of her. All the boldness.
To Ocellus, Smolder looks like someone facing her worst nightmare. Not her worst fear... but something more gutting. Smolder looks defeated.
The thought comes to her, unbidden and terrible: How would I react if Queen Elytra took the form of the pony I hurt so badly in Canterlot? Would I even be able to fight her?
No. She won't entertain this. Smolder wouldn't have. Not a baby. Ocellus shakes her head, letting more bright flashes send spikes of pain through her brain. Her flying falters; she almost drops. But the vile thought is gone.
Only to be replaced by another. She remembers again what Smolder said about her elytra.
What? I like red. The first creature I ever cared about is red.
Smolder's brother is red. Her older brother.
In a flash, Ocellus is sure.
And that look... Smolder's wide, helpless eyes... the defeated look that hangs from her like a rain-soaked dress: Smolder knew. At best, Smolder knew. And she did nothing to stop him.
At worst...
Smolder's words come back to her: When a big authority figure that you respect tells you something is wrong, you believe it. So what if he instead tells you something is okay? What if he encourages you...
Ocellus' recent thought echoes through her head:
...the friend who gets her to do things she wouldn't normally do...
The lovebug clinches her eyes shut and bellows! "GAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"
STOP IT! Ocellus demands of herself. I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!
It hits Ocellus like a half-dozen pseudoling hate-beams: this is still bothering her. She thought it was something she had dealt with, but she'd just avoided it long enough for it to fade from her conscious thought. It's been buried in her head for years.
Enough! She was going to ask Smolder about it. Tomorrow, when everything was less insane and apocalyptic. Okay, maybe in two or three days. But she would. And she would listen to what Smolder had to say. And she would be there to help her, and care about her. Because clearly this is something Smolder has deep issues with, and she could use a caring girlfriend.
But right now, she was going to get Smolder out of harm's way!
Ocellus pushes her wings to flap as fast as she can, gaining lift despite the pain throughout her body. She flies up and tackles Smolder, pushing her back into the wreck of a room that now hangs just from the few still-intact pipes.
Smolder oofs. She blinks, turning her attention to Ocellus. Her voice is small, vulnerable, more helpless than Ocellus can stand. There are tears in her eyes.
"I can't. I-I'm sorry, Celly. I just can't."
Ocellus strokes her friend's face gently. "That's okay. Wait here. I think... I have to be the one who gets Wrath anyway."
Smolder looks up at her. The tough dragon's voice asks plaintively, "Why?!"
"You and Gallus and Yona all appeared near one of the anti-Elements," Ocellus tells her. "I didn't. One of the first changelings that I met let slip that I was supposed to have appeared in the Conservatory. Which means Queen Elytra wanted me to get Wrath. Only that didn't work."
"I think that she could only make the mirror portal send us towards anti-Elements that we have some sort of connection with, like that's some sort of anchor for the spell," Ocellus explains as she pieces together her own assumptions. "I think I don't have enough connection to Wrath to be affected by it. Just like I was able to touch Pride."
Smolder snorts, getting some of her fierce back. "Are you saying you're better than me?"
Ocellus doesn't believe for more than a half-moment that Smolder really thinks that. Ocellus herself definitely knows better. There were vices on that list which she would have had real problems with. And Envy might have gotten her if it wasn't for the eye-stab thing.
"I think I'm just more messed up."
Ocellus flies out, leaving Smolder in the wreckage of the control room.
The heat buffets her. The air is filled with smoke. Ocellus sniffs, searching for the stink of rotten pumpkins on fire. She immediately regrets it. If the Nightmare is still here, Its reek is being overpowered by the acrid stench from the burning everything.
She focuses, trying to take a better form to weather the heat. Dragon, preferably Smolder. But serrated knives tear through her head, making her cry out in pain. The effort leaves her gasping.
Maybe if I really, really push... she thinks. But what if I pass out?
No. She'll have to do this as a nymph. Her plan is simple: Pharynx is so big he has huge blind spots. She'll keep to them, getting above him, and take the Wrath crown.
Ocellus beats her wings hard. The rising heat compensates for the thinner air, pushing her upwards above the twisted, dangling monolith of the control station.
The beating of the giant phoenix's wings is like the pounding of storm waves against coral. Ocellus yaws, sliding beneath Pharynx to keep from being caught in the turbulence. The thin air feels slippery, making her fight to keep control. The heat from the massive firebird's breast is stifling. She feels faint.
Ocellus pitches upwards as she slips beyond the phoenix's wings, sweeping around Pharynx's tail and up towards the frigid air of the moon. The cold strikes her like the snap of a towel, shocking her body, bringing her heat-addled mind back to clarity.
Behind her, she hears Pharynx let loose another rending screech. She looks back to see Pharynx spread his wings majestically, surrounded by a corona of sunfire riddled with dark crimson. Pharynx unleashes crepuscular rays of blinding yellow-white light stained with scarlet rage. The heat is focused downward, but still makes her gasp.
Everywhere beneath those rays, stone chars and metal debris glows hot. The metal structure within which Smolder is hiding heats to a ruddy light, growing brighter. The jagged edges of the torn-open room glow yellow, the metal becoming soft.
She's okay. My girlfriend enjoys lava-surfing. She can take this, no sweat.
Ocellus cries out as the control room collapses to the burning floor below as the pipes melt. "SMOLDER!!"
Angry scarlet lashes past Ocellus. She turns to see a trio of pseudoling drones flying up above and behind the gigantic phoenix.
Ocellus dives, beating her wings furiously, shifting pitch to lunge towards Pharynx. The phoenix's fiery corona collapses back into its natural burning aura in the wake of its attack.
Deadly rage lances past her. The nymph successfully slips past the first beams, but finds herself having to furiously correct. The thin air of the moon defies her efforts at precision, and the battering she took left her in bad shape. She can't keep dodging.
Instead, she swoops and skims across the phoenix's back, close enough to its fiery aura for her chitin to heat up painfully. Her flesh blisters beneath the chitin.
But Ocellus knows that the pseudolings won't shoot her when she's so close; Pharynx will read her move as an attempt to trick him into blasting himself. And Pharynx -- at least according King Thorax -- is the master of the "Why are you hitting yourself?" game.
The blistering heat combines with her concussion and physical trauma, tearing away her strength even as she cooks. Threatening to steal her consciousness and leave her to burn.
At the speed of her flight, she reaches Pharynx's crest in seconds. Any longer, and her maneuver would cause serious, possibly fatal injuries.
The crown is nestled in the fiery feathers of Pharynx's crest. The knife edges of the crescent moon rise like tiny red horns from the phoenix's plumage, glowing fiercely. Ocellus sweeps her hooves into the fire and snatches Wrath from Pharynx's head.
The gigantic phoenix vanishes with an abruptly-cut scream and a burst of transformation light as his link to the pseudolings is severed, the psychic trauma knocking Pharynx unconscious. Ocellus watches helplessly as Thorax's brother reverts to his true form, falling towards the burning rubble below.
The bite of the moon's frigid air snaps Ocellus to full awareness. The changeling nymph's heart hammers in her chest and throat, adrenaline battling with fatigue and heat exhaustion.
The Nightmare bursts out of the rubble like a shark, Queen Elytra clinging to Its back. The Nightmare's many-mouthed mouth, ringed with layers of fangs, yawns open to swallow Pharynx whole.
Pharynx is clutched away from the jaws of the Nightmare by a speeding orange dragon.
Ocellus tries to cheer. But nothing comes out. Her lungs, her whole body, is telling her no more.
Everything feels like it is happening in slowed time. She doesn't pass out. Her body doesn't simply give up. She doesn't fall. But she feels it coming. Like being on a sandy shore near the edge of the water, watching the tide come in, feeling it wash around her hooves, dragging the sand away around them, and knowing the undertow is a killer.
Ocellus wants to move. To get away from here. Here is not a good place to be. Here is dangerous.
She doesn't move.
Below, the Nightmare crashes back to the rubble, Queen Elytra cursing at Smolder as the little dragon carries Pharynx away. The nymph remembers Elytra and Pharynx have history. Although she was never clear on what it was.
Ocellus feels the swimming multitude of the Nightmare's eyes turn to her.
Ocellus feels panic building up inside. She needs to move! But she can't. She feels like she is stuck in glue. With despair, she realizes being afraid is no longer enough to keep her going.
She looks to the side. There is a glow on the horizon. Daylight is coming. She wonders what day is like on the moon. Is it still freezing cold, just like days in the Frozen North? Or will it become scorchingly hot, like in a desert? All of this, she realizes, has happened in a single night. The longest night ever.
The spires of the Palace of Nightmare Moon correct her: the second longest night ever.
Fear isn't going to get her through this.
It shouldn't have to.
It was supposed to be a nice day. A fun field trip. A day with her friends!
Instead, she was grubnapped.
Instead, she has been burned, bludgeoned, tossed around. Nearly killed. By changelings she doesn't even know.
By changelings that don't have to be this way!
Luna left a huge mess on the moon, and she is stuck running around, doing the work, while Luna hides behind mirrors and does nothing.
Sandbar and Silverstream aren't even here. And her friends who are aren't being very helpful!
They haven't even been good to talk to. Not one of them has said anything she didn't already know somehow.
The one who can swim in lava took a time-out when the giant phoenix showed up, leaving her to have to cook herself.
Gallus did what? Made a toy?
Yona was actually a huge problem.
Fear isn't going to help anything. It never was.
Don't be afraid.
Get angry!
"Oh. ...Right."
Ocellus scowls, looking down at the crown she is still holding in her hooves. The dark crimson light of the crescent moon gemstone blazes at her. "Get drained, Wrath."
Ocellus thrusts the anti-Element into the safety of her saddlebag.
They have all four. They have Pharynx. It's almost over.
She cannot hear it, but Ocellus knows. The final clock has begun to tick.
"A runaway train is bearing down on five people tied to the track. You could stop the train by jumping onto the track, but you would die."
Fear is not enough. Nor is rage. But love is.
Cinnamon and Canterlot Red Peppers with hints of strawberry and rubies. The taste floods Ocellus' receptors, filling her with life. Giving her the strength she needs.
Love galvanizes the nymph... but it does not take away her pain, nor cure her concussion. Smolder gives Ocellus all the will in the world to go on. But the young dragon's love cannot give the nymph the form or skill she needs to evade and escape Queen Elytra and her hive.
Not with her injuries. Not through the slippery thinness of the moon's air.
Most of Elytra's hive is likely swarming through the palace, but there are plenty of survivors of the battle with Pharynx to harass them outside while the Nightmare hunts Its prey.
Ocellus briefly finds herself thinking of the Tree of Harmony. Twice in her life, the Tree of Harmony appeared to her and her friends.
The first time was in the catacombs beneath the School of Friendship where It tested them, using fears drawn from their hearts to construct a trial that proved friendship was indeed in their nature.
The second time, It pulled them into a shared dream -- a power otherwise only known to Luna -- to alert them of Its passing. The Tree of Harmony, destroyed, was able to use the harmony of their friendship to give itself new life, reincarnating in a form inspired by their combined efforts to forge a way to remember It. The Tree of Harmony was reborn as the Treehouse.
But before she and her friends worked in harmony, they worked separately. Ocellus remembers the meditation nook she designed with help from the leader of her hive's Feelings Forum. And she remembers the giant stone monument that Smolder carved by punching and kicking a boulder the size of a tree into the shape the dragon wanted. Ocellus remembers Smolder flying around, carrying the sculpture several times her size.
Smolder's so strong. It doesn't surprise Ocellus in the slightest that the dragon is carrying Pharynx in one claw while holding her hoof in the other as the dragon weaves around the Palace of Nightmare Moon, racing through the thin, freezing air.
Smolder yaws and dives, dodging a volley of resin from two drones armed with royal jelly sprayers. Ocellus beats her wings as fast as she can. She isn't adding any speed to their flight, just keeping herself aloft so her weight doesn't slow Smolder down.
Smolder spreads her wings and levels out, racing across the rooftop above a row of gothic spires.
Behind them, the Nightmare scurries around one of the palace towers on its spindly legs. It and Queen Elytra stare down at them with a singular hatred. The Nightmare leaps, soaring across the open air.
Smolder pitches upwards and soars as the Nightmare comes crashing down behind them with a resounding DOOM! shattering slate shingles and caving in the hammerbeam roof. The dragon beats her wings, propelling them beyond the grasp of whipping tentacles.
"Dive!" Ocellus shouts as one of the Nightmare's tentacles wraps around a stone thestral gargoyle, tearing it free of the roof and hurling it at the fleeing trio. Smolder reacts immediately, plunging as the stone statue whisks overhead, rasping across the tip of Ocellus' tail membrane.
Smolder loops them over the span of a flying buttress. "Where are we going?" The young dragon grunts softly as she shifts how she is holding Pharynx's weight.
"The oculus room!" Ocellus calls back as she looks behind them. "Luna said she was guiding Gallus and Yona there. That's where the portal can be opened."
All of the Nightmare's eyes swim together, merging like droplets of water, forming one huge ocellus. It stares balefully at her, Queen Elytra clinging to Its back. A rush of horror whispers into Ocellus' mind that the changeling queen directed Its focus away from Its prey for too long, and now Elytra is no longer in control.
Slipping shapes writhe up the Nightmare's amorphous form, rippling up Its sides and across it's back, merging together. The Nightmare sprouts four huge, oily-black calliphora wings, beating them against the air. The back two drum in counter-rhythm as It pushes off of the roof, sending more rubble into the banquet hall below.
"Smolder, It's flying now!" Ocellus warns as Smolder whips her about, dodging the bright lime comets of a trio of drones.
Ocellus sees them smash into the palace's central tower, two cratering the walls. One hits a reticulated window and rebounds, the ghostly image of magical chains shimmering across the stained glass.
The Nightmare flies with the grace of a bugbear. It roars as It closes the gap. Not a primordial, panic-inducing screech but a sheer bellow of hatred. Ocellus wonders if It has finally realized that making Its prey flee isn't the best tactic.
Smolder pulls in closer to the tower, weaving between the flying buttresses, using them for cover. Several drones above them begin to hurl green orbs. Royal jelly explodes across the tower and buttresses, the goo hardening into knives. Their aim is good. Her dragon is better.
"Yeah, but where is this Oculus Room?" Smolder shouts, hefting Pharynx to get a better grip on the unconscious Protector of the Hive.
"I have no idea," Ocellus calls back. She can't check her map, and Smolder's erratic flying has obliterated her sense of direction. "It's supposed to be an exterior building. Look for an oculus."
"Right," Smolder nods, winging around a spire and diving back towards the buttresses on the opposite side of the palace. "...what's an oculus?"
"It's..." Ocellus almost wants to sigh. "...an eye. An eye-like, circular opening, usually at the top of a dome."
Ocellus spots a flicker of orange flying about below.
"Another eye thing?" Smolder asks. "Wait, are you sure it isn't an ocellus room?"
Ocellus pouts at her girlfriend. She mimics Smolder's voice perfectly. "You're terrible and I hate you."
Smolder smugs at her.
The air erupts in thunder as the Nightmare smashes through a flying buttress behind them, sending a spray of rubble through the frigid air. Ocellus feels her chitin pelted by debris. A chunk of palace stone the size of a yak flies just beneath her. The stone tumbles through the air to slam into the wall of another palace wing, crashing through the wall into a ballroom, pulverizing the dance floor with a bounce, and tearing out the other side.
Smolder dives, shooting into the wreckage of the ballroom. The Nightmare hits the roof, cracking several of the hammerbeams with a resounding DOOM!
The pipe organ at the end of the room begins to pour out discordant notes. The room goes black. The sloshing, stabbing sound of the Nightmare on the roof above becomes percussion to the pipe organ's dissonant dirge.
"Seriously?!" Smolder shouts, slowing down.
"Keep going!" Ocellus calls, reaching back to unclasp one of her saddlebags. She wishes she could put up her collision barrier in front of Smolder, just in case they miss the exit created by the stone and slam into a wall.
"Wasn't planning to stop!" Smolder says as they burst out of the darkness, swooping back outside, Pharynx's tail membrane dragging briefly through the regolith. She pulls Pharynx closer, awkwardly getting him under her arm. Ocellus imagines her claws must be starting to cramp.
Ocellus looks back.
On the roof above, the Nightmare watches her with Its ocellus. Suddenly, Its body erupts with myriad forms. As if dozens of creatures are trapped within and are trying to break out. Oily, covered in black ooze that envelops them like paint. Ocellus recognizes the creatures pressing against the Nightmare's liquid, sloughing chitin from within.
Dragon-Ocellus. Bugbear-Ocellus.
A shock of absolute horror knifes cruelly through her.
Pony-Ocellus. Seapony-Ocellus.
Below, the darkness ripples away, leaving the molten carapace form of the poltergeist. It stares at her with its one glowing eye. Its single, dead ocellus.
Ocellus opens her saddlebag -- the one with all the rubble in it. She pours out all the fragments of the onyx pillars that Smolder had broken when the dragon was blasted into the final clock room.
"Up! Fast!" she shouts, hoping desperately that her dumb plan will work.
Smolder beats her wings harder, pulling them upwards as the onyx stones hit the regolith. The poltergeist pauses, its ocellus turning to the shower of rubble. The Nightmare remains focused only on Ocellus, more forms writhing beneath its liquid ebony skin.
Puckwudgie-Ocellus. Rock-Ocellus.
All the forms from her nightmare last night. Ocellus sees them open their mouths in screams of agony and horror. But the only sounds are the hisses of her name.
"Ocellussssssssss!!"
"Ocellussssssssssss!!!"
"We are more real than you, Ocellusssssssssssssss!!!!"
"There is no Ocellussssssssss!!"
The regolith below erupts in a violent thunderstorm of ethereal white flashes. Bursts of spectral white light so brilliant they wash away everything but the Nightmare.
Bat-Ocellus. Bunny-Ocellus.
Air rushes past her far faster than Smolder's slowing descent. The ashen sands of the moon swirl into a vortex around a dozen clustered points of vacuum. Space itself seems to bend and warp around the cataclysm.
Ocellus' heart beats fast. Queen Elytra nearly killed her with this same trick back in the center of her hive. She wasn't sure if the queen had enhanced the stones with her magic, if the unstable magic within the damaged artifacts would trigger on their own. The nymph realizes how insanely dangerous it has been carrying those around as she sees the plan work all too well.
The rubble of the broken wall flies into the storm, vanishing in brilliant flashes of ethereal white light. Ocellus watches as the yak-sized stone is dragged through the regolith, breaking apart and dissolving into blue smoke as it is devoured by the vortex. She hears the scream of the poltergeist slash through her psyche like rusty knives as the existential collapse rips the dark essence out from whatever is left of the dead thing.
Smolder's ascent against gravity, wind and the pull of the cataclysm slows, then stops. Ocellus can hear the dragon grunting as she beats her wings harder. But they are sliding back towards the maelstrom.
The Nightmare staggers, pulling back onto the rooftop. Its shifting flesh pulls towards the vortex like black licorice taffy.
Last night, Ocellus' nightmare began with a dream of the day Starlight Glimmer and Thorax invaded Queen Chrysalis' hive. It started with her as the love-starved changeling she once was. Ocellus watches that former self strain up from the flesh of the Nightmare, bursting its eye. She screams at her, trapped within the Nightmare.
"I AM MORE REAL THAN YOU, OCELLUSSSSSSS!!!"
The words slam into Ocellus like a charging yak, knocking the wind and strength out of her.
Is she? Or am I?
The taffy-swirl of liquid chitin is pulled into the vortex. The Nightmare screams. Ocellus has seen It take dozens of Wrath-fueled blasts, but this is the first time she believes the Nightmare has actually been wounded.
The Nightmare turns and flees.
Ocellus' eyes clinch tight to protect her from the swirling regolith as the trio is sucked downward towards devouring oblivion. The flashes of white burn through her eyelids, seeming to only intensify.
Without warning, the maelstrom implodes.
Ocellus, Smolder and Pharynx fall to the moon in a rain of regolith.
Ocellus feels several of the blisters beneath her chitin burst as she hits. She screams, her cry of pain becoming violent coughing as she breathes in course moondust.
She hears Smolder moaning and coughing next to her. She tries to get up, but hot pain sears through her breast and abdomen. Her head throbs harder than ever, like an earth pony is applebucking her skull.
She leans, opening her eyes, looking around. She sees Smolder pulling Pharynx's muzzle out of the regolith. "H-he's okay."
Ocellus feels the moon shiver, the course dust shifting under her body. There is a crackling sound, and it is growing louder.
Smolder stands, looking past Ocellus. Her friend's orange scales have become fiery, lit by an apricot glow. Flame dances in the blue of her eyes.
Ocellus sees her own stark shadow grow in the amber light. Feels the quickly mounting heat. She remembers seeing a spark of orange light flying about below them just before everything got crazy.
Smolder stares with lidded eyes. "The fire'ling, I presume?"
Ocellus turns. The drone of fire stares down at them from the ashen dune above. It steps forward and the infernal heat banishes the freezing cold of the moon. The fire'ling leaves flickering hoofprints in the regolith that quickly gutter out.
Fire bursts out around it. Ocellus gasps as Smolder leaps in front of her, wings spread, blocking the flame. "I am not the slightest bit scared of you," the dragon growls, fire licking from her own muzzle.
The regolith trembles again.
Smolder spins, her wide eyes darting across the lunar surface. The fire'ling advances on her while her back is turned.
Ocellus feels the hard tug as her saddlebags pull painfully against her chitin. In a fluid burst of motion, Smolder has grabbed her by them while snatching Pharynx by the tail. The young dragon flies upwards with adrenaline-fueled speed.
Below, Ocellus can see the fire'ling glare upwards with eyes like tiny suns. Tongues of flame spread from its back, forming wings.
The regolith erupts in a geyser as the moonshark's open jaw bursts up around the fire'ling, snapping shut as the gigantic white-scaled eel dives back beneath the moon's surface.
"I see it!"
Ocellus lets out a breath of sheer relief. Still, she keeps her eyes open. The drones stopped attacking when the Nightmare fled carrying their queen with It. But the reprieve they are enjoying will be brief.
Smolder wings about, swooping towards a huge, circular, domed structure. The Oculus Room resides at the end of a long covered walkway with a translucent canopy that connects it to Nightmare Moon's Palace. Sections of the canopy have collapsed.
The fight with the Nightmare and Elytra's drones was on the far side of the palace. Ocellus suspects the damage is from the moon's only wildlife: moonsharks.
As Smolder glides down towards the walkway, Ocellus can see trellis walls covered in long-dead cousins of the plants in the conservatory. Her friend dips down through the broken canopy and pulls up, landing before a pair of giant, blue slate doors carved with images of a triumphant night.
The crash of the canopy breaking is far away and all too close. Ocellus and Smolder spin to see the Nightmare sloughing into the far end of the walkway. Ocellus feels numb as she sees the abomination is still crowned with the head of her love-starved nightmare self. The black carapaced nymph from her dream who failed to share her love.
In unison, Smolder and Ocellus rush for the door, the dragon pulling Pharynx with her.
The door refuses to open.
"It's locked!" Smolder cries out.
Ocellus almost feels the stench of moldy, rotted, burning pumpkins slam into her. The gurgling sound, like hundreds of creatures suffering messy indigestion, grows louder and closer. Beneath that horrible sound is the mounting buzz of wings.
Ocellus glances back. The Nightmare has already closed half the distance. And behind It, the stars are blotted out by Queen Elytra's army. The swarm must be thousands strong!
Ocellus frantically digs into her saddlebags for Nightmare Moon's Seal. Then freezes as she realizes there is no lock on this side. The door can only be unsealed from within.
The sloshing, spilling sound grows rapidly louder. And with it, the myriad of voices, all hers.
"Ocellussssssss!!"
"Ocellussssssssss!!!"
"Ocellusssssssssssssss!!!!"
With a clank and a scraping groan, one of the blue slate doors opens. Gallus and Yona quickly usher them inside, the yak helping drag in the unconscious Pharynx.
Gallus slams the door shut in the faces of the Nightmare, thrusting another copy of Nightmare Moon's Seal into the lock and twisting it. Spectral chains briefly flash across the doors as a mountain of wet slams into them from the other side.
Ocellus stares at the Seal. She recalls returning to the Throne Room with Yona and Pride:
Without taking her eyes off the nymph, Smolder calls to Gallus. "Ocellus is back!" Gallus turns from examining the oil painting, a grin spreading across his beak at the sight of her.
Immediately, she knows where he got the concentrated essence to make it. Her mind flashes to the griffon's first reaction to the Nightmare, before It crashed through the ceiling:
Gallus grabs a moonsilver needle from the pile, holding it like a weapon. Then immediately thinks better of it, tossing the needle to the far side of the room.
Smart, clever griffin! Ocellus thinks fondly.
The changeling nymph wobbles on her hooves, catching her breath. She is thankful for the thicker air. Her head swims and she stumbles, only for Gallus to catch her. The thump to her other side tells her Smolder dropped Pharynx to do the same, but the griffin was quicker.
Less exhausted, more likely.
Fatigue and lingering heat exhaustion sap what little strength Ocellus has foraged. She slips from Gallus' grip, collapsing onto her hooves, breathing heavily. Her head swims again, and she really wants to pass out. She doesn't, but for the life of her, she can't say why not.
Ocellus stares at the floor. All around her, her friends are voicing concern. Her head feels abnormally heavy as she tries to lift it.
Gallus is asking Smolder what happened to them. Smolder is telling them, albeit in a somewhat crass fashion. One that skips everything personal, praises Ocellus, makes them both out to be hugely amazing, and involves the Nightmare eating Gallus' toy crossbow.
Ocellus chuckles. She looks up, smiling at her friends. "I'll be okay," she lies, not wanting to worry them. "Just tired." She won't be okay. She needs a hospital. She's not going to get one.
The monster forged from her nightmares is upon them. She has to get her friends home now. And some creature still needs to stay behind in this room and destroy the portal. She's not going to sacrifice King Thorax's brother. Not that he is in any condition to break the portal anyway.
Ocellus lifts her head, the pain in her skull having shifted to feeling like she is being hit gently but insistently in the back of her brain with a hammer. A thud for every heartbeat.
The pounding in her head echoes the Nightmare's wet pounding on the door. She looks behind her, seeing the magical lock shake, the ghostly chains rattling with each impact. Ocellus pulls her gaze away, slowly turning her head to take in the rest of the vast, singular room.
The oculus room is massive, and almost completely barren. Concentric rings of stonework circle into the center where the emblem of a full moon is set in silver. Each stone is engraved with an image of a star.
The lower quarter of the wall is built of ebony bricks, reminding Ocellus of the bathroom off the Grand Hall. Above the brickwork, stained glass in a multitude of blues and purples are held within arching flame tracery that converges on the oculus at the top of the dome.
Four giant statues of Nightmare Moon, each the size of adult dragons, sit in cardinal directions, their heads lifted haughtily, their wings raised to touch each other beneath the dome, framing the oculus above.
Through the glass of the oculus, Ocellus can see her world. The white fluffy patterns of clouds swimming over the greens and browns of the continents and the blue of the oceans. She can see the continent she calls home at the edge of shadow and realizes it is morning in Equestria.
With a heavy breath, she looks back to the ebony brick walls. To her left and right, tapestries line the walls between the statues. The largest depicts Luna standing triumphant over a broken Celestia.
Not Nightmare Moon. Luna.
Ocellus shudders, finding that somehow the most twisted thing she has seen tonight.
Behind her is the exterior exit. Before her, across from the exit, is a dais with another throne. And above the throne is a circular mirror. The ornate moonsilver frame looks like the tortured corona of a solar eclipse. Nearly identical to Nightmare Moon's Seal.
The mirror is dark. It does not reflect the room. Instead, Luna gazes back at her from it. She looks weak and heartbroken. Ocellus thinks she understands why. With an expression of immense sadness, Luna mouths the words: I am sorry.
Followed by: hurry!
Ocellus nods in response. Hurry, yes. She can hear the Nightmare outside. The drumming vibration of the drones is building as the swarm surrounds the Oculus Room outside. She has to hurry and...
Ocellus realizes she has no idea what to do. She wasn't expecting an obvious portal artifact like Luna's mirror portal, but she expected something. She looks around again, expecting to find holes in the four giant statues that the anti-Elements would fit into. Or maybe on the floor. But she doesn't see anything like that.
Still laying on her hooves, Ocellus turns her head to grasp the belt of her saddlebag and tugs. She pulls off her saddlebag, feeling very uncertain.
"Smolder, can I have Gallus' bag?" Greed and Envy are in it.
Smolder nods, shucking the saddlepack and passing it to her with a claw.
"Every creature, please stand back."
Gallus backpedals. "Yeah, I don't want to be anywhere near Envy when it comes out." The griffon spreads his wings, taking to the air and backflying until he hits a tapestry.
"Yona not want evil stone either!" The yak moves nearly to the throne.
Smolder backs up more slowly, but gives Ocellus some room.
Ocellus dumps the contents of her saddlebags and Gallus' pack. The anti-Elements clatter against the stonework among a rain of school supplies, books and dice.
She feels herself on the verge of crying as she looks not at Envy, Wrath, Pride or Greed... but at the dice bag Sandbar gave her for Hearth's Warming. If she stays, she'll never see him again. This bag will be the one thing she has to remember her friend by. He's not even here to say goodbye to.
She doesn't even notice as the four anti-Elements begin to glow. But they tear her gaze away from Sandbar's gift as they pull themselves up out of her pencils and notebooks.
Ocellus watches as the anti-Elements lift up, swirling about each other: angry red, sickly green, ghastly white and unhallowed gold. The anti-elements glide towards the center of the room and circle about the silver moon. Then rise upwards.
In their wake, a crystalline doorway appears, the frame made of a thin, reed-like lattice, shimmering with moonlight. Crystal facets reflect the colored lights of the vices that conjured them. It looks precious and incredibly fragile. The top of the doorway is adorned with a twisting spire that looks like an alicorn's horn. It points out of the oculus. Towards her world. The world in the sky.
The doorway floods with a pale, ethereal light.
Ocellus's ears twitch at the sound of a wet, hitching breath. She turns, her eyes widening as she sees Yona sniffling, tears welling in the young yak's eyes.
"Yona sorry! Yona so sorry, Ocellus!" the yak suddenly wails. "Yona going home. Yona miss family. Miss Sandbar. Miss..."
"What!?" Ocellus cries out, aghast. Yona flinches, but Ocellus continues. "Of course you're going home! All of you are going home!"
Ocellus pushes herself to her hooves, staring. When did that even become a thing in question!?
Smolder says bluntly. "Nope."
Gallus strides over to Smolder and turns to face Ocellus. "Yeeeeah, that's not going to happen."
Ocellus turns her stare on Gallus and Smolder.
Smolder crosses her arms. "I'm staying."
Ocellus is reeling. "But..."
Gallus nods. "I'm not abandoning my friend on the moon. I'm staying. You'd do the same for me." The blue griffon points a talon at her. "In fact, you did. Remember our first Hearth's Warming? You could have gone home to your family, but you chose to stay with me."
Ocellus steps towards him, her brow furrowing crossly. "Gallus! This isn't for a holiday! This could be forever!"
"All the more reason," Gallus retorts.
Ocellus feels an icy whirlpool of panic swirling about her. She turns to Smolder.
"You know why I'm staying," the dragon girl tells her. "Don't make me say it."
Gallus looks away. "Way I see it, if any one of us should be left here alone, it should be me."
"WHAT!?" Ocellus, Smolder and Yona cry out in unison. All eyes turn to the griffon.
Gallus flatly stares at the lot of them. "I'm an orphan, remember? I know how to live on my own. I can handle it."
"It's not a calculation of who would be best!!" Ocellus shouts at him.
I'm not going to treat people, especially my friends, like a math problem!
Gallus presses on. "And unlike all of you, I don't have a family to go back to. You guys are it. I'm not turning my back on that." He looks pointedly at Ocellus. "Or on you."
Ocellus falls to her haunches, stunned. What was playing out before her... this was the true nightmare.
Bizarrely, the questions from Rarity's test float back to her mind.
"Would you sacrifice yourself for a friend?" "Would you sacrifice yourself for a stranger?" "Would you sacrifice one of your friends for a hundred strangers?"
...and the fourth question -- the last one -- which she had barely read...
"Would you sacrifice all of your friends for everyone?"
Ocellus feels everything in her world falling apart.
Part of her wants to let Smolder and Gallus stay. She needs them. But Gallus' words nail home just how selfish and horrible that would be. Smolder has a brother she cares deeply about. Staying here would tear the dragon she loves away from him forever. Ocellus can't and won't be the creature who does that. She's not a love-starved changeling! She doesn't separate people who care about each other so she can feed on one of them!
Ocellus clinches her eyes tight and focuses. Her head detonates in wrathful pain, black lightning tearing through her skull. The agony is so bad she almost wants to die. She screams! The scream comes out a roar!
Bright novas of pain and light flash through her brain as her head hits the wings of the giant Nightmare Moon statues, snapping them. She opens her eyes as she hears the pieces thudding down on the floor below, frightened at the thought they might have hit someone. Or the portal.
Below her, the portal remains intact, its aperture glowing with spectral light. Her friends are staring up at her. Gallus' beak hangs open, as does Yona's mouth. Their eyes are wide, filled with wonder and fright.
The expression on Smolder's face keeps changing as a plethora of emotions fight for dominance behind her eyes. Ocellus knows Smolder is remembering what she said about turning into Dragon Lord Torch.
Ocellus has never met Torch. But she has met Greed-enlarged Smolder.
Before the emotions in Smolder's face can include betrayal, Ocellus sweeps the three of them and the unconscious Pharynx through the open portal with her massive dragon tail.
Green flashes of light from above draw Ocellus' attention to the oculus. Scores of shapes move against the curtain of space, black against black. Only the first rays of pre-dawn light against the contours of chitin reveal the swarm amassing beyond the walls of the domed room.
Ocellus raises her massive, orange fist over the fragile latticework doorway home.
And pauses.
With a flash of turquoise, she sheds the form of Greed-enlarged Smolder, returning to her natural self again.
"Ocellus?" Luna's voice is tinged with worry.
Ocellus beats her wings, hovering up to the portal. So close she can feel its effervescent light. She could fly through. Be back with her friends. Be home. She has that choice.
If she does, Queen Elytra will follow. The Nightmare will follow. And soon after, all the nightmares of Equestria. She can't let that happen.
If she destroys the portal, she has to let Queen Elytra have Pride again. She doesn't know what will happen to the other anti-Elements. But this hive has nothing else to feed on. They will all die without Pride. Horribly and painfully.
Too many have died already.
Ocellus drifts. She slowly circles about the open portal. She doesn't need to be a giant dragon to destroy it. She just needs to choose to. She understands what she believes is at stake. She has no intention of allowing her world to be invaded by a powerful and dangerous new threat. She is not hesitating because she is tempted.
Except for choosing to follow Thorax's example -- to share her love and transform -- this is the most important decision of her life. She should not make it lightly or in haste.
DOOM!!!
Ocellus looks up to see the Nightmare crouched over the oculus, staring down at her with pure hate. She is unsurprised to see Queen Elytra riding It's back. Since the Nightmare appeared, the queen has been practically attached to it.
The Nightmare raises a massive claw formed of hundreds of fangs. And SLAMS it down against the circular window.
DOOM!!!
The glass is thick and as strong as armor, but a single crack threads out from the impact. Phantom chains appear, only to flicker.
Ocellus glares at it, annoyed. Such timing. Almost as if It is trying to rush her. Ocellus refuses to be rushed. She promises herself that she'll destroy the portal the moment Queen Elytra breaks into the oculus room. But she is taking every moment she gets before then to make sure doing so isn't a mistake.
The throne is now behind her. She cannot see Luna's expression, but she can hear the worry in her voice.
"Ocellus, there is no time to waste," Luna urges. "It will not take long for that monster to break through."
"Luna, please, let me think."
The changeling nymph reviews what she knows. Everything leads her to the same lonely, heartbreaking conclusion. One that leaves her stranded on the moon for the rest of her life. Alone, save for visits from Luna. Ocellus remembers the tale of Tantabus and the shared dream Luna wove. Perhaps Luna could weave shared dreams for her and her friends? Or at least her and Smolder? If they were lucid, they'd even be able to share real love in the dream.
Luna did say the moon was part of her domain. Yet at the same time, considering the amount of magic required to open a portal between Equestria and here, creating a shared dream between the two may be untenable or even dangerous. Not that she shouldn't ask; she should just be ready for the answer to be "no".
Above, the Nightmare hammers at the oculus, filling the building with the drumbeat of doom. More cracks begin to spiderweb across its surface. The phantom chains appear again and again, glowing as they rattle. Ringing as they begin to crack.
Ocellus reviews again. Everything she knows leads her to the same answer. But there is so much she still doesn't know. She delves into her mental notebook of Unanswered Questions. Some she can cross off, but there are still a worrisome number that she cannot...
...and some questions have answers that seem perfunctory. Ocellus' mind returns to the question that troubles her most. The most fundamental question.
Why are there changelings on the moon?
Why didn't Queen Chrysalis simply devour Elytra? It would have been in keeping with the ways of love-starved changelings. Why banish her, knowing that left a threat? Ocellus finds it impossible to believe the same Queen who abandoned the hive's larva to die was moved by some maternal instinct or love for her child.
And even if Chrysalis was feeling maternal, why the moon? The moon was Luna's domain. Ocellus could understand Luna banishing someone to the moon. Or someone -- Celestia, obviously -- banishing Luna here. But Chrysalis? How would the moon have even become a consideration?
And how would she do it? She had no anti-Elements, nor Elements of Harmony. Queen Chrysalis didn't even know about the Tree of Harmony. Nor does the magic of a changeling queen have any connection to the moon. The moon is Luna's domain. Like night and dreams.
How ironic that she was dreaming of being a love-starved changeling, of Queen Chrysalis and her hive, the night before the field trip.
Ocellus feels a cold trickle down her back.
That was an ominous coincidence... unless it wasn't.
You chose what you saw in my roots, not me.
That cold trickle grows into a frigid waterfall pouring through her spine. What if she is the reason there are love-starved changelings on the moon?
She's thought it before: this ordeal has made manifest one personal nightmare after another. How much has everything tonight seemed focused obscenely on her?
Right down to the eye thing. The symbolic violation.
Okay, I have to ask, why the eye?!
What if that is the reason? What if it is personal?
Are you sure you didn't create this place?
Ocellus feels numb, a single word on the forefront of her mind. No.
It's a puzzle! I love puzzles.
Ocellus whispers plaintively, "No."
I literally haven't told you anything you didn't already know.
DOOM!!!
With a mighty crash, the oculus shatters. The Nightmare tears Its way through the top of the dome and drops to the floor before Ocellus and the portal. Queen Elytra shouts her victory.
Ocellus doesn't care. She's done. She knows the truth now. The moment it became a consideration, it could not be denied... and the revelation washes away all the pain, leaving only the fatigue behind and a notion that the pain should be there.
"Smolder never woke me up."
Behind her, Ocellus hears Luna's surprised voice come from the mirror. "What?"
Ocellus sighs dryly. "I just transitioned from one nightmare to another."
Behind her, she hears Luna asking softly, "How did I not realize this?"
She doesn't care. It doesn't matter. "I'm still dreaming. None of this matters."
Ocellus slowly lands, her hooves setting down on the stonework. She clenches her eyes shut. Her voice is one of finality.
"I want to wake up now!"
With a gasp, the voice of Luna cries out, "Ocellus, NO!!"
"It probably thinks it was dreaming. That nothing mattered."
Ocellus opens her eyes.
She is still in the oculus room. The stonework is still cold and hard under her hooves. She can feel the engraved stars in each stone. The portal still shimmers with ethereal light. The Nightmare still towers before her, glaring balefully.
She no longer hurts. Her headache is gone. All replaced with a suffocating weariness. There is no sign of the changeling hive.
Ocellus blinks in confusion. "What?"
"B-but I'm dreaming," the nymph stammers in protest. "I know I am. When you know you are dreaming, you're supposed to wake up. That's how it works!"
She hears the clopping of hooves on the stonework. Luna's voice comes from behind her. The voice isn't from an image in a mirror.
"You are lucid dreaming, Ocellus," Luna tells Ocellus in her somber, dulcet tone. "You have a great deal of control over the dream now."
Luna walks up beside her. Ocellus turns, looking up at the night alicorn.
"But listen to me carefully, Ocellus. While you are correct that this is a dream, there are three things here that are real. I am real. You are real. And that," Luna says, pointing to the Nightmare, "...is real."
The Nightmare's shifting maw opens wide enough to swallow Ocellus and everything around her, blasting her with It's rotted, burning pumpkin stench as the Nightmare lets out Its primordial, sense-destroying, panic-inducing roar.
Ocellus feels... nothing. No will-erasing terror. No panic. Just weariness. She stands her ground, staring at the monstrosity with a failure to care that would impress even Gallus.
"If that is real," Ocellus asks the night alicorn beside her, "Then why am I not scared?"
"Nightmares lose their ability to terrify you once you know you are dreaming," Luna states.
Ocellus opens her receptors. She can taste Luna's love -- honeydew, jicama and tar -- so vibrant and real that everything else seems to fade a little. Because Luna's love has always been real.
"That's why I gave it the ability to fool me." Luna steps forward, her eyes narrowing as she addresses the Nightmare directly. "Isn't that right, Tantabus!"
Ocellus' thoughts are spinning. Yet she understands. No creature could possibly fool the night alicorn into not recognizing a dream for what it is... save for the one creature Luna empowered to do so.
Queen Elytra dissolves, melting into the Nightmare. Then the Nightmare itself dissolves into blue smoke.
"Tantabus? But... but you destroyed it... didn't you?"
Actually, now that Ocellus thinks on it, her professors had been a bit unsure exactly what Luna had done. Headmare Sparkle thought she knew, but maybe she was wrong?
Beside her, Luna shakes her head. "I created Tantabus out of my own self-hatred. I couldn't destroy it." Her tone is one of regret, but carries a hard edge with the Tantabus present. "Once I had forgiven myself, stripping it of all of its power, I banished it to the dreamscape of the moon."
Ocellus stares at Luna.
Luna raises an eyebrow at the nymph's stare. "What else would I have done?"
The changeling nymph tries to process this. Tantabus is alive? Wait... the moon has a dreamscape? What does that even mean?
Ocellus' eyes widen in understanding. "You were asleep." Her words aren't really to Luna, just a vocalization of her realization. After all, it is not the night alicorn beside her whom she means. Not her-Luna. Her-Nightmare Moon.
Ocellus has been dreading being alone on the moon. Even with the promise of visits from Luna and the slim hope of dreams with her friends, the idea was nearly unbearable. To be cut off from love, from friendship. To be completely and totally alone... the very idea was beyond miserable. It was isolation from everything good.
Celestia didn't want to torture her sister. Nightmare Moon wasn't awake on the moon for a thousand years. "This palace..."
A lot of this dream was from herself: the puzzles, the love-starved changelings, her friends. But even in her dreams, she wouldn't have come up with this palace. There is a reason Luna found it familiar, a reason that Tantabus was able to trick her into believing this was a real place from her past.
"...is what Nightmare Moon dreamed about."
If any dream could continue to exist without the dreamer, it would be one crafted by the alicorn of night and dreams.
Luna nods. "Yes. I was in this place for a very long time..." She stops, taking a real look around. The night alicorn flinches at the tapestries and turns back to Ocellus, her voice melancholy. "In a way, I truly did build it."
Luna looks up again and sees her own reflection in the mirror, staring back at her from above the throne. "I sensed there was something wrong in your dreams, Ocellus," she says, clearly remembering what the dream made her forget. "But when I tried to enter them to help, the Tantabus ensnared me too."
Luna frowns. "The clocks tried to warn me about Tantabus. But while it could not stop their ticking, the dream obfuscated the meaning of their alarm."
Ocellus feels a jolt. She looks about, having almost forgotten that the Tantabus was in the room with them. It had done all of this to her, to them. There had to be a reason!
The blue smoke of the Tantabus has taken a vague form.
In the lesson she was taught at the School of Friendship, they were told it took the shape of Luna. But now, it looks much more like Queen Elytra to Ocellus.
It begins to move for the glowing light of the portal.
"Ocellus, listen," Luna says, her voice calm but bearing just a hint of the urgency it had carried throughout the dream. "I do not understand how, but somehow Tantabus saw in your dreams a passage to the real world. All of this has all been a ruse by the Tantabus to get you to open that passage. If it escapes through that portal, it will infect the real world, turning it into a living nightmare for everyone."
The night alicorn looks Ocellus in the eyes. "Do not allow it through, and do not awaken with the portal open. If you do, it can follow you out."
There it is. The truth.
Ocellus nods, flying to the portal, putting herself between it and the creeping figure of blue smoke. But even as she does so, she knows she can't stop it. Not like this. Their professors tried to physically restrain the Tantabus to no avail. It is real, but it isn't a physical being. It can just flow around her.
Before, it took Luna's act of self-forgiveness to stop it. But Luna has already done that. She already took its power and banished it...
Ocellus' eyes fly open wide as she makes the connection.
I was everything mother wanted me to be! Everything she made me! But once... just once!... I tried to be my own being! Tried to take something for myself! And in response, she takes all my power from me and banishes me here!
Oh no.
All I want is to return home. And you... you and that monster in the mirror... you seek to rob me of that chance!
Oh wow!
I WILL TEACH YOU THAT YOU CANNOT GIVE BIRTH TO SOMEONE AND THEN JUST THROW THEM AWAY!
Queen Elytra wasn't just some villain conjured from nothing. She has been Tantabus' avatar, as has the Nightmare. Chrysalis was merely a proxy.
Luna is mother.
Ocellus stares between Luna and Tantabus, feeling vertigo at the epiphany. She doesn't know what to say. What to think.
An uncomfortable feeling rises up in her.
And with it, a whispering realization: The Tantabus is appearing like Queen Elytra now. It has connected to its avatar, formed a bond. It won't just give her up.
Ocellus has the strong notion that the world of living nightmares that Tantabus visits on her world won't be crafted from the nightmares of the ponies within it. Instead, their nightmares will be infused into this one. There won't even be an invasion. The Tantabus steps through, and every creature finds themselves in a world Queen Elytra has already conquered.
The blue smoke, shaped like a changeling queen, moves slowly towards her. Towards the portal.
Ocellus looks between Luna and Tantabus once more. Then at the portal. Something is wrong.
How long did she and Luna talk? Why hasn't Tantabus already gone through? The monster of nightmares is steps away from having everything it wanted, and it is moving as slow as tree sap.
Luna is looking at her with a mixture of worry and motherly kindness. Waiting, Ocellus thinks. And hoping. For her to figure it out.
Ocellus, listen: I do not understand how, but somehow Tantabus saw in your dreams a passage to the real world... Luna can't help her any further because Luna doesn't know.
The Tantabus takes another languid step.
...there are three things here that are real. I am real. You are real. And that is real.
Ocellus nods, understanding.
The portal of crystal lattice and shining light isn't real. Like everything else in this dream, it's just set dressing. Tantabus sensed a way into the real world though her, created this dream of opening a portal to push her to open a real one...
"I'm the portal."
Luna nods, clearly having understood that much, despite not really comprehending how or why. Luna couldn't, Ocellus understands. For all the night alicorn is, she's not a changeling.
But Ocellus is. And right now, she is a lucid dreaming changeling.
Ocellus looks to Luna, explaining, "I can bring something real into the dream world."
Luna's eyebrows rise in surprise.
The Tantabus takes a hesitant step back. Then another, stepping away from Ocellus and the shining portal.
Away from the false portal and the real one.
Luna's surprise turns to shock as she sees Tantabus' hesitation. "It's frightened?"
Ocellus nods. There is a huge flaw in the Tantabus' plan. And the moment she realized it, Tantabus did too.
Dreams are in your head. Even when all else is false, your emotions are real. The terror you feel in a nightmare remains when you wake because it is real terror. The same holds true for other emotions.
Luna created Tantabus out of self-hatred. Forgiveness weakens hatred. Takes away its power. But forgiveness isn't the opposite of hatred, and it can never truly destroy it. Only love can do that. And it is impossible for Luna to love her own self-hate. She could never give Tantabus what could actually destroy it.
But Ocellus is a changeling. She stores love. She has been for years. She's been nipping bits of her friends' love for her, collecting them. She remembers what she told dream-Smolder:
I hoard too.
She's lucid dreaming. She can pull that love -- real love -- here. That is the portal between dream and reality that Tantabus sensed. She can give Tantabus her love.
All of it.
To do so would be to lose it. To give up everything she has collected. All the love of her friends that she has surrounded herself with. Her deepest, dearest possession.
Would you sacrifice all of your friends for everyone?
It's a trick question. Her friends are part of "everyone".
Ocellus realizes her answer is "Yes."
The Tantabus takes another step back, shaking.
If the Tantabus is truly nothing but Luna's self-hatred, then love will destroy it. But if it is anything else... anything more... if there is anything within it that can be redeemed...
...Ocellus has to try. No matter the cost.
Ocellus lifts from the floor, spreading her forelegs wide. She opens the portal and lets all the love she has stored for years flow through, giving it to Tantabus.
The light is brilliant. It fills the oculus room. An impossibly perfect symphony of flavors -- cinnamon and mushrooms and berries and mackerel and fennel and tar...
It is a flood. That becomes a tsunami.
Then the oculus room and everything in it disappears as the universe goes white.
Ocellus doesn't know who she is. She has allowed herself to be molded by what would get people to love her. Her friends, her professors, her hive. Her life had become a facade, her behavior a series of masks. She doesn't remember the last time she really felt like an individual.
But she remembers the first time.
Before her, the entire hive was changing. Transforming. Starlight Glimmer hadn't been lying. She hadn't been naïve. Changelings could survive by sharing love. They didn't have to starve. They didn't have to be parasites! They could be symbiotic!
It was the time she gave up her love -- despite having virtually none to give -- sharing it with Queen Chrysalis. And she was transformed.
Ocellus is alone.
All around her is a glowing white empty. The dream is gone.
There is no sign of the Tantabus. She does not see Luna. Only she remains. She is truly alone.
It was real. She knows that without room for doubt. Her collection of love is gone. Her hoard. She gave it all up, sacrificed to Tantabus. And in doing so, she feels she gave up her masks too. Reset herself.
It isn't a bad thing, being alone with herself. Her true self.
But she already misses her friends. She wants to return. She'll just have to take things more carefully. Rebuild herself. Just as she knows she will rebuild her hoard. Her friends have plenty of love to share.
Something permeates the white. A taste of smoked hickory, jalapeno and rubies.
Smolder's love. Pure and real. Her girlfriend.
...No. Not yet her girlfriend.
Smolder loves her. Ocellus knows this. She has known it for a long time. She has been able to taste that it is true and genuine, regardless of any other desires or baggage either of them might possess. And Smolder knows that Ocellus knows.
Her roommate is waiting for her to take the next step. With the patience of a dragon.
No pressure, not even a word. None need to be said. And Smolder is absolutely willing to remain just the friends they are now if Ocellus' heart does not reciprocate the love Smolder has for her.
But Ocellus' heart does. She just needed to work through her own self issues enough to finally see it.
"Good morning, Morgan. Today is Monday, March 15th, 2032."
Ocellus woke up to the slightly muted, cottony taste of rubies, habanero and spiced cider. Her receptors were open, and her mushy morning senses were making Smolder's love taste funny. The nymph's first instinct was to roll over, burying her head in her pillow. She didn't want Smolder to see her making a face.
Ocellus remembered her dream. All of it. Every conversation. Every pain. Every horror. She also remembered doing exactly what she was about to do. And why.
The nymph forced herself to roll onto her back instead. She looked up to find an anxious Smolder watching over her fretfully in the dim light of the room.
I have a second chance!
"Sorry if I made a face," Ocellus apologized groggily. "Sometimes things taste funny right when I wake up."
Smolder blinked. The expression of worry eased a little, a smirk curling on her muzzle. "I get that," Smolder said. "Just be thankful you've never tasted how some flavors warp during a molt."
"Instantly happy to be a changeling," Ocellus teased, raising a hoof.
Smolder stuck her tongue out at her.
A second chance to kiss her! Ocellus suppressed a gasp at her miraculous luck. No creature got a second chance at a proper first kiss... yet here she was granted one. And this time, I'll do it right!
The nymph lay there, soaking in the familiar sights and smells and tastes of the dorm room and Smolder. Enjoying the warm comfort of her soft bed. She found herself comparing it to frigid marble floors and dunes of nasty regolith. She much prefered her bed. Not that she wanted to sleep again. Ever.
A fear slid through her. She tried to ignore it.
Ocellus wondered what became of Tantabus. After all the hatred and self-loathing was burned away by love, was there anything left to be saved?
If there was, it hadn't been in the white with her. Neither had Luna.
Luna is mother.
Ocellus felt sure that if there was anything to save, Luna took it with her.
Something thudded against the door. Ocellus' heart lurched, her mind immediately conjuring images of the Nightmare just outside their room. She sat up, looking around frantically.
Smolder's mirth vanished, her anxiousness returning.
Ocellus' eyes were drawn to the window. The room wasn't dim because the curtains were closed. They were open, allowing the gentle light of pre-dawn into the room.
The skies over Equestria were still a deep indigo, sprinkled with stars that twinkled like they ought to. Peaceful violets and pinks painted the eastern sky, with a band of apricot orange tracing the edges of the horizon.
The dream had seemed so impossibly long. Yet it was early.
Ocellus looked to Smolder, surprised the dragon was even awake.
"Uh, we've got about twenty seconds before the rest of the gang bursts in here," Smolder told her. "Want me to hold them off?"
"Hold them off?" Ocellus asked slowly, confused.
Smolder nodded. "Right." The dragon girl turned and marched to the door, opening it a crack. Ocellus saw her strain to keep the door from swinging wide thanks to the weight pressed against it from the hall. The nymph could smell yak hair and a familiar flurry of less pungent scents.
"She just woke up, guys," Smolder scolded through the door. "Give her a few moments, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, the orange-scaled dragon shoved the door shut with a grunt. Then locked it for good measure.
"Wh-what's going on?" Ocellus asked, wondering if she escaped one nightmare to find herself in yet another. But even as she questioned her reality, she recognized deep down that she had awoken. Whatever this was, it was absolutely real.
"We were all asleep about two minutes ago..." Smolder turned away from the door, looking at her with a level of worry that deeply troubled Ocellus. "When Luna yanked us all into Silverstream's dream and told us in no uncertain terms that you just fought the Tantabus and won."
Ocellus' jaw dropped. She had wondered why Luna wasn't there in the white with her when the dream ended.
Smolder let it out in a rush. "Luna wanted to make sure we all knew that what you went through during the night wasn't just a dream, and that what the Tantabus put you through was very bad, and you would need your friends when you woke up." The dragon stared at Ocellus, her blue eyes begging the nymph to be alright. Or, at least, not be so hurt that Smolder couldn't help.
Ocellus stared at her closest friend mutely. After a moment, she simply nodded.
Seconds ticked by. Ocellus opened herself up, allowing herself to recognize the fear she tried to ignore. Checking for what she was afraid of.
Nothing.
The only love she could sense was coming from Smolder. No matter how deeply she dug, there wasn't any more to be found. It was all gone.
She gave Tantabus the love she had secretly stored away. The love she had hoarded for years. From her friends. Her teachers. Her family.
All of it.
She didn't realize she was crying until she felt Smolder move onto her bed next to her. The dragon's claws gently brushed her shoulder. "O-Ocellus?"
Ocellus wiped her ocelli with the edge of a blanket. This... this was something she could tell Smolder about. Not the others. But Smolder would understand.
"I-I had to give up my h-hoard," she said. "It's gone. Years of love. Collected and kept. And..." She shuddered. "...I had to lose it all."
She turned, looking into Smolder's wide, glistening eyes. She knew the dragon could understand the weight of her sacrifice. "It was how I beat the Tantabus."
Smolder was silent a moment. Then the dragon gently tapped her elytra. "Open up," she said softly. Ocellus obeyed, making herself vulnerable to her dearest friend.
The nymph shuddered as she felt Smolder's claws play over the muscles between her wings.
They sat, letting a gentle blanket of quiet fall over them. Smolder stroked and tickled gently, soothing her. Feeding her a banquet of cinnamon and jalapeno and spiced cider, with just a hint of strawberries.
Ocellus knew that the dragon was processing the news that her roommate hoarded too. But Smolder was being exceptionally graceful and understanding. She thanked her silently for that.
"I'll help you build a new one," Smolder finally said.
Ocellus gave an involuntary buzz of her wings. She lifted her head back and gave the dragon a heartfelt, teary smile.
Eventually, she had to ask. "Smolder, we don't have any mysterious field trips coming up, do we?" She was sure the answer was no, but the shadows in the back of her mind were restless. "And we don't have a mysterious test in Professor Rarity's class that we can't study for because she won't tell us what it's about, right?"
Ocellus could see the relief on Smolder's face. The dragon was likely trying to imagine how horrible her nightmares had been. And this put a face on them that the girl could handle.
Smolder shook her head to both, slipping a claw under her right wing to give the connecting muscle a playful tickle. "Nope. And nope. We're good."
Ocellus shivered, her wings buzzing again.
She felt a little mean as she asked, "And what's outside, pushing on the door -- that's our friends, right? Sandbar, Silverstream, Yona and Gallus? Separately?"
The dragon girl had started to nod again, but stopped as the last word hit her. Smolder's brow furrowed as she tried to parse Ocellus' meaning. The play of the dragon's claws between her wings slowed cautiously.
"I mean, not all one creature?" Ocellus clarified, earning a wide-eyed look from her roommate. "Not a giant blob of changeling body parts with heads for teeth that hiss my name?"
Smolder's irises shrank, her pupils becoming slits. Her claws froze. "Uhhh..."
Ocellus looked down and smiled. Mostly with relief. Maybe a little tiny bit of wicked delight. "Okay. One more question. Then we can let them in."
She looked back to Smolder. "Secret tea party tonight?" I want to talk to you privately, just the two of us.
Smolder's face brightened a little. She nodded: I want special time alone with you too, Ocellus. The dragon chuckled nervously. "You were just messing with me about that other thing, right?"
Ocellus sighed and shook her head. "I didn't really think it was outside," she admitted as she pulled away from the dragon's touch, closing her elytra and arranging herself in bed to face the door. "But no, that was real. Really real. And much, much worse than what I said."
After what Luna did for her, she wasn't going to play this down. She was going to let herself get the help she needed.
The dragon pulled her claws away, understanding. She slid off the bed, brushing Ocellus with her tail. Then walked to the door and unlocked it.
"Go ahead, Smolder," Ocellus said once she was comfortable. She opened her receptors wide.
I'm going to stop doing this so much, she told herself firmly. Starting tomorrow. She knew how much she sounded like an addict's cliche. But she hoped her resolution was stronger than what was usually behind assertions like that. Because right now, she needed this.
"Let them in."
Ocellus braced herself as Smolder flung the door open. Their friends were bunched up comically. The wave of flavors hit her almost as fast as the stream of concerned voices as her friends pushed past each other to tumble into her room. One voice rose above the others.
"Yona's friend saved the world in her sleep! Yona have best friends!"
There was a moment of awkward, all of them talking and none of them knowing what to say. A flurry of are you all right's and how can we help's. Broken through by Gallus announcing, "Fuck it, I'm just going to hug you."
Ocellus blinked. She knew it was coming, but... Gallus was the one who started it? Gallus.
As the tidal wave of friends crashed down on her, the nymph opened to mouth to thank him. Instead, what came out was, "Gallus, you swore."
The swirling orchestra of flavor enveloped Ocellus like a warm blanket just pulled from the dryer. Mixed berries and ghost pepper and cotton candy, tar and mackerel and fennel, creamed mushrooms and burning paper lanterns (Silverstream's love always had the most peculiar notes)...
Ocellus snatched choice bits, starting a new hoard.
"It's... really weird," Ocellus told the friends circling her. "I remember all these conversations I've had with you guys that never actually happened."
The conversation has turned to a mostly lighter discussion of the dream as her friends' concern slowly gave way to their curiosity.
"Also, I have a number of new forms." The nymph beamed at her friends. "Some of them are going to surprise you."
She was surprised to realize that the experience had been real enough that the new forms she changed into within it, such as the cockatrice, were now within her repertoire. Including all the forms she had taken of her friends.
She reminded herself that she was not going to turn into Greed-enlarged Smolder without a lot of talking with her friend (soon, girlfriend?) first.
Ocellus smiled at Gallus, pointing a hoof at the griffon. "Also, I promised dream-you that I'd learn to turn into your homework for Professor Pinkie's class. Just once. Are you still holding me to that?"
It was the most ridiculous question.
Gallus's eyes widened, and his grin followed. "Oh absolutely."
The group laughed, the merriment in her friends' voices filling the room with a sound sweeter than honey and warmer than golden sunlight.
Silverstream fluttered her wings. "I wish I had been there for you too." Ocellus could hear the remorse in the hippogriff's voice. She reached out, putting a hoof on Silverstream's nearest talon, smiling at her, trying to let her know it was okay without actually voicing how silly that guilt was.
"Yeah, same here," Sandbar said. Something in his tone made Ocellus suspect he was wondering why he didn't rate, but he was too considerate a friend to ask.
Ocellus frowned. She didn't want that eating at either of them. "I was alone at first. I think Tantabus tried to keep any of you from being in it. But our friendship is so strong that it couldn't stop me from adding you to the dream..." She was pulling the idea out of thin air, but it felt plausible. "...And so it instead prevented any it couldn't figure out how to use."
She looked to Smolder, Yona and Gallus. "Not that making nightmare versions of any of you worked out for it."
"Nightmare version of Yona?" her friend asked, worried.
Ocellus nodded. "But that didn't last long before you -- dream-you, I mean -- turned into the friend I knew."
"Wow. I know it was horrible, but I kinda wish I could have seen it," Silverstream blurted out. "The moon sounds like a blast."
Gallus stared at her. "Were you even listening?"
Ocellus felt a wave of relief as she was saved from having to figure out a non-awkward way to admit dream-Gallus was never a nightmare-Gallus. "I think you can."
"Whut," Gallus asked. The others looked at her in a mixture of blank shock and surprise. And, from Silverstream, barely-restrained excitement.
The clocks tried to warn me...
Even in her sleep, Nightmare Moon created things of dream magic that were beyond the very real Tantabus' control. A thousand years of Luna empowering the place through dreams created a dreamscape that persists without a dreamer.
Even though the dream ended and Tantabus is gone, Ocellus thought, the palace should still be there. For very unusual definitions of there and be.
"We could write Luna and ask if she could give us a shared dream that allows me to give you a tour," Ocellus suggested. "Now that it is unoccupied and relatively safe."
Her friends had predictably mixed reactions to the idea.
Yona narrowed her eyes."What friend mean relatively?"
"The dreamscape is deteriorating, and I have no idea how having stuff that came from me woven into it will affect its integrity," Ocellus carefully admitted. "But this time, we can ask Luna to see if it is safe before we go there."
Maybe Luna could even come with them. Ocellus suspected the night alicorn might benefit from the company.
"That... may have to wait a bit." Sandbar's tone was cautionary. Ocellus looked at him questioningly.
"Yeeeeah, I got the feeling Luna might not be available right away," Gallus jumped in, backing Sandbar up. "Luna pulled us all into Silverstream's dream, told us it was an emergency, and then said she needed our permission to do what she kinda already did."
Silverstream nodded. "It was weird, even for a shared dream with Princess Luna."
Ocellus felt a jolt of worry. She wasn't sure just what to be worried about, but the tone of her friends warned her something was wrong. She looked to each of them for help understanding.
"Luna might be in a bit of trouble," Sandbar explained when none of the others could offer insight.
"What kind of trouble?" Ocellus needed to know.
"I overheard my parents talking about it last summer," Sandbar told her. "A council of ponies pushed for Luna to need consent to enter dreams. Not everypony is comfortable with the idea that somepony is spying into their heads while they sleep."
I must seek them out in the physical world and ask their permission," Luna had told her, although fragments of her words were lost. "Procuring creatures' consent is but one of many concessions I have had to acclimate to in retirement."
"One of their arguments was that her knowledge of ponies' dreams and nightmares put those ponies and even the security of Equestria at risk." Sandbar quickly waved a hoof. "Not that anypony thought Luna would ever misuse that knowledge. But they were worried about it falling into the wrong hooves."
Sandbar sounded like he felt guilty just saying this. "She has been captured before."
Including twice by Chrysalis, Ocellus couldn't keep herself from realizing. Being trapped by Queen Elytra and having her memories drained... that had been a personal nightmare of Luna's. One the Tantabus tapped into.
Ocellus closed her eyes, thinking just how much Luna suffered last night too. Her heart reached out, wanting to be there for the night alicorn as much as her friends were here for her.
"Mom and Dad kinda had an argument about it," Sandbar admitted.
Ocellus' heart hurt as she understood that for Luna the nightmare wasn't quite over.
It wasn't entirely over for her either, was it? She was awake now, but there was a long road of rebuilding ahead of her. And not just her hoard.
That brought her to the big admission. Ocellus held up her hooves, quieting her friends. One by one, they all looked at her. Concern and worry began to creep back into their faces.
"I have something I have to confess," she told them, her tone somber and serious.
"I've been losing my sense of identity," she admitted, speaking slowly, choosing each word. "This isn't something from the dream. It has been going on since before I joined Cheer Squad. And it's been getting worse and worse."
The words felt heavy, just like they did in the dream. "I haven't felt like I know who I really am. There have been days when I wake up and I have to fight to remember I'm me."
Ocellus heard gasps from several of her friends.
"And you kept this quiet because?" Smolder asked, her voice scolding. So much like the dream.
"Because I have been selfish and stupid," Ocellus stated, staring at the carpet. "I felt it was personal and my own problem. And I was worried you wouldn't understand, or think it was silly..."
"Uh, Ocellus," Sandbar interrupted. "Finding who you really are is such a big thing for ponies that we get a magic mark on our flanks when we do. It is not silly," he insisted. "No creature is going to think that."
Ocellus winced inside. She should have realized that and opened up so many months ago. "I didn't let my friends help me when I should have. And I let it get so bad that I gave Tantabus a whole arsenal of horrors to throw at me last night."
Ocellus looked up. "But last night made me face what is wrong with me. And... I'm going to be working some things out over the next several months. I might even change."
"Ocellus? Change?" Gallus couldn't help but snark. Humor was how he dealt with heavy. Even in the dream.
Ocellus' friends glared at him, but she gave him an understanding smile. There was an irony there, and she could appreciate it.
"But even if I change," Ocellus insisted, "My friendship with all of you never will."
Classes made everything feel more grounded. Ocellus was relieved when none of her teachers acted weird (although there were looks of concern when she did). None of the other students approached her to ask about her experience.
Ocellus had begun to hope that no creatures other than Luna and her friends even knew what happened. She needed normal right now.
Everything that happened kept tumbling through her head, threatening to derail her. Fears clung to her like her shadow, forgotten but not gone, finding moments when her guard was down to jump at her.
As Counselor Trixie led her down the hall towards the Headmare's office, Ocellus found herself eyeing the cup sitting on the hall table next to the bowl of wax fruit.
It's not a drone in disguise!
How long was she going to have to keep reminding herself of that? She got the strangest looks in Professor Pie's class when she freaked out at the jack-in-a-box. And she knew that was coming.
"I can't believe you went to class today," Trixie told her, shattering that hope. Ocellus understood it had been an unrealistic one. "I would have taken a great and powerful break from everything if I just saved the world."
Ocellus knew she meant well. "But I want to go to class," she protested. Not getting to would feel like punishment.
"You are a very strange girl," Trixie stated in a good-natured tone bereft of offence as they reached the door to the Headmare's office. The School Counselor knocked, then pushed the door open without waiting for a response from inside.
Headmare Starlight Glimmer was waiting. Ocellus noted the lavender unicorn was standing in front of her desk to look casual rather than sitting behind it. The smile the unicorn wore was clearly meant to put her at ease. Ocellus had not suspected she was in trouble. She was pretty sure she knew what this was about.
The gift box on the desk made her question her assumption.
"Ocellus," the Headmare greeted her as Trixie led her into the room. The office was much like it had been when Twilight was Headmare. Except for the kite on the wall. And a few pictures of Starlight's friends. And Phyllis. "Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable."
Ocellus walked in and simply stood there. She looked at Starlight expectantly.
The nymph was annoyed as her thoughts flickered back to the first time she saw the unicorn. Invading Chrysalis' hive. Ocellus had hissed at her. It was not a good memory. There were many better ones.
"Ocellus," the bored and clearly distracted Counselor Starlight said with a wave of her hooves, "It's perfectly normal for a changeling to struggle with identity issues, but..."
That wasn't one of them. Ocellus frowned, hoping all the darkness dredged up by the nightmare wasn't poisoning her. She needed to get this under control.
Starlight blinked at the change in the nymph's demeanor. She walked to her desk and picked up the present. It was wrapped in dark blue paper with a silver ribbon. There was a note attached.
"Princess Luna teleported this to me an hour ago," Starlight told her. "I waited until you were done with class. I hope that's okay."
Ocellus took the box, looking at the note.
"It arrived with a few letters to myself and members of the staff," the Headmare continued. Ocellus' heart sank. "I haven't passed those letters on yet. I wanted to make sure you knew first."
Ocellus looked up at Starlight, a hopeful question on her tongue. But the Headmare clearly anticipated it. "This isn't something you will be able to hide from them for long. I've already had a few of your professors come to me concerned. And Luna herself will be coming sometime next week to ask you and your friends for formal permission to help."
Starlight Glimmer paused, a familiar look of concern etching into her features. Ocellus was growing tired of that look.
"Apparently, Luna thinks what happened to you two is beyond my ability to help with," Trixie stated bluntly.
Ocellus looked at the School Counselor. Beneath the touch of wounded pride was actual concern. But more than that, Ocellus felt a swell of gratitude toward the mare for not framing what happened as if she was the victim. For those words you two.
"Y-yeah, it kinda is," Ocellus agreed. "No offense."
Trixie waved a hoof. "None taken. Dream therapy is a little outside even my skills."
Ocellus giggled just a little as Starlight rolled her eyes. The nymph returned to the note, this time reading it.
Dear Ocellus,
I regret that I am required to be in Canterlot through the weekend. But after things are settled here, I will be with you every night that you have need of me until all the damage that Tantabus inflicted has healed.
In the meantime, I have crafted this nightlight with my magic. Keep it lit by your bed as you sleep, and it will always be there to guide you out of your nightmares.
With love, ~Luna
Ocellus stared at the note. Then, on a whim, she opened her receptors. The nymph's ocelli widened, her wings buzzing beneath her elytra as she tasted lingering notes of honeydew and crude oil.
Luna actually did her best to infuse the gift with love.
Ocellus paused, re-reading, feeling a niggling worry return. "Luna's required to be in Canterlot?"
Headmare Starlight nodded, assuring her, "Nothing that can't be smoothed over."
"You have to admit," Trixie added unhelpfully, "In a way, Tantabus kinda made the council's point."
Headmare Starlight shot the other unicorn a look.
"What?" Trixie asked obliviously.
Ocellus put aside the note and began to open the package.
"What is it?" Trixie prompted before the wrapping was even off.
Ocellus gave her an intentionally enigmatic, "My own version of Luna's clocks." She smirked a little at the Counselor's confused look.
It wasn't exactly true, but Ocellus expected it wasn't exactly wrong either. Granted, the clocks were in Nightmare Moon's Palace, entirely the stuff of dreams. For her, Luna evidently tied the magic to a physical object -- but then, Luna couldn't have left the spell in the realm of dreams since Ocellus didn't have access to a persistent dreamscape.
Ocellus lifted the top of the box and let out a gleeful squeal, clapping her forehooves in delight at the sight of her little friend.
Ocellus skipped down the hall heading back to her dorm room, humming a happy tune, feeling the swing of the lantern below her chin.
She gave the hall table with its bowl of wax fruit and its misplaced cup a passing glance, utterly unconcerned.
The cup opened its eyes and winked at her.
Ocellus froze.
The cup rattled, then lifted into the air. The swirl of magic as it transformed was not lime green.
"Well, good to see you back in the land of the awake," Discord drolled, sitting on the fake fruit.
Ocellus stared at him.
"Honestly, I wish I could have done more. But dreams are so not my forté," the draconequus claimed, and for once, Ocellus didn't doubt his words.
"So tell me..." The draconequus gave her a big grin, leaning forward enough to precariously tip the table, his paw and claw under his chin. "What did I end up giving you?"
Ocellus blinked. She carefully set down her little friend to ask, "What?"
"Oh come on! I know I gave you something," Discord insisted. "The magic I sent into that dream would have manifested in some form or another. I'm sure of it. So what was it? Was it helpful?"
He doesn't know.
He legitimately doesn't know.
"How did you even know something was happening?" she asked.
Discord gave her a condescending stare. "Really? I'm the Lord of Chaos."
Ocellus raised an eyebrow. She wasn't going to just swallow that as an answer.
"Luna's pet monster would have turned the world into a living nightmare. A sort of chaos I can't control. You don't think I'd sense that coming?" Discord points at her lantern. "Luna isn't the only one who can make things like that, you know."
He has his own version of the clocks. Ocellus wondered if Discord created his... whatever his variation of the clocks was after the first time the Tantabus threatened reality.
The draconequus crossed his arms a dozen times. "Now I've answered your question, but you still haven't answered mine."
Ocellus gazed at the draconequus, understanding the strange creature's eagerness. Discord used his magic to intervene, but he had no way of knowing how its effect would play out in the dream. No way to observe it. There was something perfectly chaotic in that complete lack of control.
Of course he needs to know.
Ocellus found herself smiling. "You made me cheat on a test by giving me the questions ahead of time," she told him. "And all the questions were keys to understanding what was happening to me."
Discord's grin widened as he leaned closer. Unbalanced, the end table toppled, spilling wax fruit that rolled across the floor, leaving the draconequus floating in the air. "Do go on!"
Smolder sipped at her tea, her smallest claw held out in a dainty fashion. Ocellus watched her, marveling at how the teal dress made her orange scales seem more vibrant and brought out the shine in her eyes. Professor Rarity was right.
Ocellus felt thankful for the professor's help. She wanted this to be perfect. Especially considering the unspoken weight hanging over them.
Setting the pink ceramic tea cup back on its saucer, the dragon looked at her between the burning candles. "A new dress? Tea by candlelight? Okay, what gives?" Smolder asked her pointedly. "Because it's either really good or really bad."
Ocellus remembered back near the beginning of the nightmare. In the dream, her thoughts had turned to these tea parties. How they were times when she and Smolder shared deeply secret things with each other. Things that made them vulnerable. Like Smolder's story about Dragon Lord Torch.
There is one thing she hasn't.
Ocellus took a deep breath. She had been thinking about how to word this all day. Or, at least, nearly every moment after Headmare Starlight helped her send a message.
"I have something very important I have to take care of," she began. "Something I haven't been strong enough to do on my own. I want your help."
Smolder frowned slightly. This wasn't going where she hoped, but she was clearly already in.
"But first... I need to ask you something," Ocellus said as the dragon opened her mouth to respond. "And I don't know if I should be asking, but I would really appreciate the most honest answer you can give me."
Smolder tensed a little. "Lay it on me." No secrets here.
Ocellus didn't want her to be tense. The nymph quickly rearranged what she needed to say, taking a different approach. "In the dream, there was a moment when you froze up..."
Smolder visibly relaxed. "Okay, you know it's not fair to put me on the hook for something I did in your dream, right?" She smirked, pointing a claw. "That wasn't actually me." The dragon took another sip of tea.
Ocellus nodded, sipping her own tea, then offering to refill Smolder's cup. It was Yak Tea, as she called it. Yona's secret blend. A rich black tea with spice and subtle herbal notes. Yaks really did make the best teas.
"I know. But it does mean that I have been worried about something, and only you can put my mind at ease. Or, if it is bad, let me in to help." Her words were deliberate, invoking Smolder's earlier scolding about not being open with her identity issues.
"Tell me about you and phoenixes."
Smolder froze. But only a moment. Then she sighed, slumping a little. "I was wondering when you would ask about that."
Ocellus' eyebrows lifted. "Really?"
"Yeah. I mean, it's not something I want to talk about. But I know I haven't been subtle," her friend admitted. "I figured you were giving me my space about it, and I've been thankful for that. But I also know you care, and you weren't going to just let it go forever."
Smolder sighed. "Plus, Yona kinda demanded to know what made you cry. I didn't know when she asked, but it didn't take long to put that puzzle together. It had, like, two pieces."
Ocellus smiled at the metaphor, knowing Smolder was using it for her benefit.
"I secretly like cute things. You know that." Smolder slumped back in her chair, looking up at the ceiling. "We'd just migrated to the new Dragon Lands and I was exploring the border of our new home. I think I told you about the redcaps once, right?"
Ocellus cocked her head, her ears shooting up. She had totally forgotten about that! Consciously, at least. From the dream, part of her sure hadn't.
Smolder leaned forward again. "Well, turns out..." She lifted one claw, "Baby phoenixes are super cute." She lifted a second claw. "And mommy phoenixes really don't like dragons crawling up to their nests to get a closer look at their babies."
Ocellus couldn't help but enjoy the image of a younger Smolder on a limb, poking her snout into a nest of baby phoenixes, eyes wide. But she suspected that did not end well.
"I might be fireproof, but adult phoenixes are scary." Smolder let Ocellus fill in the gaps.
"I couldn't exactly tell my brother I was trying to get to the nest because I thought they were cute." The dragon's voice held a note of bitterness. "Dragons don't like cute. Hell, I couldn't even tell myself why I did it. I was in full denial back then."
Ocellus' eyes widened as the picture painted itself.
Smolder finally returned to her tea, sipping it. Her eyes stared at the table.
"One month after the School of Friendship re-opened, Headmare Twilight pulled me into her office. I thought I was in trouble," Smolder confided. "But I was totally blindsided when she asked me if she should pull one of the upcoming lessons because it put dragons in a bad light."
The dragon stared into Ocellus' eyes, her expression earnest and pained, needing her friend to believe her. "I swear I had no idea what Garble had started doing until Twilight told me."
Ocellus swallowed. This wasn't what she expected. None of her fears or guesses had looked like this. The nymph slid out of her seat, walking around the table to put a hoof on her friend. "It wasn't your fault."
"It kinda was," Smolder replied painfully.
"If I hug you, will it mess up your dress?" Better than asking her directly if she wanted one. Ocellus was giving Smolder an out while letting the dragon accept a hug without looking like a dragon who is desperate for one.
"If it will make you feel better..."
Ocellus wrapped her friend in her forelegs, holding her tight. Letting her love flow to Smolder, even though she knew the dragon couldn't taste it. Trying to bathe her in it.
Smolder closed her eyes and let Ocellus hug her.
For about two minutes. Then the dragon's eyes opened. "Uh, Ocellus...?"
"Y-yes?" The nymph broke the hug, stepping back and wiping a tear.
"You're glowing."
Ocellus blinked. Then looked down. Smolder was right. It wasn't a bright glow. Definitely not a love beam. But there was a slight shine penetrating her saffron dress right over her heart.
"Heh. Y-yeah." Ocellus smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of her head. "I'll tell you about that..."
"No time like the present," Smolder said, waving a claw at the tea party.
Ocellus had to give her that. Still, there was something else that needed to come first. "I will, but first, I really do have something I need to face, and I want you with me when I do so."
Smolder had her full attention.
"Come with me to Canterlot this weekend..."
Memories flooded over her -- old ones she had buried but that the dream had dredged back up. She remembered attacking Canterlot. Surrounding herself with her collision barrier as drones rained down on the vulnerable city like a lime green meteor shower. Shooting down a hundred feet at an olive mare with frilly, butter-colored hair. Slamming into her at full speed. Feeding.
"...There is a pony there who I hurt really badly. I-I need to find her if I can." Ocellus' voice trembled slightly. "A-and apologize."
Smolder slipped out of her chair, seeing the pain in Ocellus' face. "You can tell me about it on the trip."
Gratitude swelled in Ocellus' breast. She felt tears in her eyes, but not ones of sadness.
"Afterwards, I really need to visit Luna," she added. "She will be at the castle. Headmare Starlight wrote ahead to make sure it was okay. And to ask a little favor. If you're feeling brave."
Smolder rolled her eyes at the obvious manipulation. "You don't need to play me. I'm already there. What favor?" Smolder raised an eyebrow.
"Celestia will be there too. And she'll be bringing Philomena. I think it would do you some good to talk to her."
Smolder took a sharp step back. Her eyes narrowed, but a smile broke across her muzzle. "Why you little schemer. Are you sure you're not a dragon?"
Not today. There will be no being a dragon today.
Ocellus stepped forward, closing the distance again, looking into Smolder's eyes. A step closer.
Smolder's smirk faded, her eyes widening. "Ocellus?" The dragon braced for another hug.
Ocellus leaned closer, their noses almost touching. She felt the heat of Smolder's breath tickle her muzzle. The glow from her breast was lighting up Smolder's face from beneath.
