Thus far, we have limited ourselves exclusively to the exploration of cutie marks as found amongst the ponies of Equestria. In later chapters, we will focus on the concepts of destiny and how they relate to the metaphysical concept of the soul. In order to lay a framework for those, however, we must take a brief detour.
The topic at hoof is, of course, the soul mark.
In this chapter, we will introduce the concept of the soul mark, dispel some of the commonly-held myths around it, and finally, enumerate the known properties of soul marks.
First, a brief discussion on what a soul mark is.
Simply put, a soul mark links two individuals (known as soul mates) who are fated for one another. The implications of this vary greatly between individuals, but one element is constant: soul mates always improve each other in some way.
In more concrete terms, a soul mark is a mark—similar to a pony's cutie mark—that appears somewhere on an individual's body. This mark has a counterpart that appears simultaneously upon another individual's body. Soul marks are relatively rare—approximately point-five percent (0.5%) of any given population have a soul mark at any one time. Statistically speaking, if we were to randomly select one of the many small hamlets dotting Equestria, we would find, at most, two soul-marked ponies.
Before we go further, however, we must discuss with a soul mark is not. There is a considerable body of superstition and folklore surrounding them, but remarkably little contemporary academic literature. This text will seek to address some of the more common misconceptions.
First, a soul mark is not divine. There is no evidence that any gods or higher beings are involved in the manifestation of a soul mark. Many ancient pony civilizations held them as sacred and venerated the recipients as touched by holiness. Some modern zebra tribes still consider bearers of soul marks to have closer ties to the spirits of nature which they worship. Minotaur society venerates the spirits of their ancestors and believes soul marks to be a gift from those spirits to their descendants.
However, after extensive review of all known individuals to have received soul marks throughout history, there is no pattern to indicate that the recipients of soul marks are in any way remarkable, more capable, or somehow more ideal, than any given individual. Indeed, the majority of those who have borne a soul mark have been completely unremarkable, save for the mark itself.
Second, a soul mark is not necessarily an indicator of romantic love. While often true, and a popular trope often seen in plays and romantic novels, the reality is more nuanced. For a particularly famous example, we need only examine the friendship between the warrior-poet Quiet Typhoon of Pegasopolis and his counterpart, Steady On, of the Canter Valley earth ponies. Both stallions were leaders of their respective armies. Regarding their first meeting, legends and verifiable contemporaneous accounts agree: both ponies were struck dumb by the sight of a matching soul mark upon the other. They then immediately engaged in a duel. The duration of the duel varies between accounts, but all agree that both refused to concede until, exhausted and unable to continue fighting, they both agreed to a draw.
What followed—especially remarkable in the pre-unification era—was a hundred years of peace, during which Quiet Typhoon wrote and published no fewer than four hundred poems and treatises upon the beauty and grace of his wife, Verdancy. These are especially notable for their references to Steady On, to whom Quiet Typhoon makes frequent declarations of fraternal love and camaraderie. Some scholars have argued these could merely have been attempts to mask a then-illicit love affair between Quiet Typhoon and Steady On. The author admits that, while possible, if paired with contemporaneous accounts of the two stallions' friendship, it is not particularly plausible. Further cementing soul marks' lack of romantic implications, there have been a number of recorded instances of aromantic soul mates, several of whom are still alive today.
Third and finally, a soul marking is not a singular event. Though exceedingly rare, there have been several confirmed cases of an individual receiving more than one soul mark—and thus soul mate—in the course of a single lifetime. It is notable, however, that there are no recorded instances of a single individual having more than one soul mark simultaneously. In order for the second mark to appear, the first must disappear, under circumstances which will be outlined below.
Now that we have dispelled some common myths, let us move on to the discussion of what soul marks are.
Soul marks are not limited by species, gender, age, or affiliation (political or otherwise). They differ widely in appearance and location but appear to follow several common themes.
They always appear somewhere readily visible. On a quadruped, such as a pony, this may be the neck or the face. On a biped, such as a minotaur, this may be the face or the palm of the hand.
The paired marks always relate to one another in some way. For example, if some hypothetical mark bearer were a pony with a talent for blacksmithing, the mark that appears upon their soul mate may be a hammer or an anvil. Such symbolism is rarely as overt as that found in cutie marks, however. In one pair of soul mates—both minotaurs skilled in landscaping—one had a soul mark in the shape of an anchor, and the other, a pair of wings. When asked about them, both were able to answer immediately: the minotaur with the anchor mark said that it represented the way their soul mate kept them grounded in a confusing, intimidating world. The minotaur with the winged mark said that it represented the way their soul mate gave them the courage to metaphorically spread their wings and to try new things.
Soul marks are always surrounded by what appears to be some form of written script. This script, however, is unique to every marked pair, and indecipherable to all, save for that pair. This 'soul script' is always the first words that a mark bearer's soul mate will say directly to them. When asked how they can interpret otherwise-meaningless lines and shapes, marked pairs almost always give the same answer: they "just know". This makes forging a soul mark effectively impossible without the assistance of a mark-bearer—an attempted forgery would require some form of script mutually comprehensible to two people, and no one else. (For the curious, this 'soul script' is the subject of much study, and the focus of a later chapter.)
A soul mark appears upon both individuals when the second member of the pair is born—and disappears when one member of the pair dies. Most soul mark bearers are born within several years of one another, and this often informs their development—many spend their formative years seeking their soul mate and memorizing the 'first words' of the soul script. There are outliers, however; some soul marks appear on one member of the pair at a much later date. Such marks often result in long-lasting student-mentor relationships, for example.
Some marks, however, defy explanation.
The most well-known example of such an outlier is perhaps our own Princess Celestia. By all accounts, her distinctive soul mark—all the more notable for being a deep black against her otherwise snow-white coat—appeared approximately four hundred years into her rule. This was approximately three hundred years after what we now know was the banishment of her sister, the recently-returned Princess Luna. Accounts from that era portray the princess as, at first ecstatic, but as the years passed, increasingly desperate, and finally, resigned. After all, what hope was there that her soul mate remained alive after a hundred years of searching? And furthermore, if the most well-known pony in the world could not find a single individual after a century of searching, then perhaps they simply did not wish to be found? But bizarrely, the soul mark persisted—and indeed, remains to this day.
While we must close this chapter out in the interest of moving on to more substantive discussions about the nature of fate and destiny in coming chapters, the author would like to take a moment to break with common practice and address you directly, dear reader. The field of soul mark study is a rich and largely untapped one, but one also rife with pitfalls, and deeply personal, painful stories. Do not make the same mistakes as the author and, for example, ask the bearer of a soul mark why they have not found their soul mate.
Some wounds are still fresh, even after six hundred years.
She grimaced, and worried at a familiar spot on the right side of her neck, just below her jaw.
Weddings were always joyous occasions. And while she rarely took the opportunity to officiate personally, this one was special.
This time, she'd be adding to her own family.
Finding Cadance at all had been a rare bright spot of true, unbridled joy in nearly a thousand years of loneliness. Not to say that she lacked for acquaintances, friends, or even treasured rivals. It was simply that, for most, she had to wear the mask. She had to be the princess first, and a pony second—if at all. There were a few individuals over the centuries who, by circumstance or temperament had given her the freedom to be her true self, and they too stood out as bright spots.
But Cadance was an alicorn.
The first in almost a thousand years. A possible companion in agelessness, someone who might join her in the march through the years. The way Luna should have. She could not be a replacement for Luna—nopony ever could be—but Celestia could be her teacher, her mentor. Like a daughter, or perhaps... a niece. That had nicely avoided most of the noble caterwauling about favoritism that adopting her directly would have caused. That it had conveniently allowed her to avoid the responsibility of being a mother was a slightly shameful little secret that she had kept to herself.
She did not think she was qualified for that particular job.
Things had not relented since then; she gained Cadance, lost one student, and gained another. And what a student Twilight Sparkle was! Possibly even more powerful and driven than Sunset had been, but deferential and humble, where Sunset had been dismissive and arrogant. And most of all...
...she had given Luna back to her.
The moon to her sun, the night to her day, the only pony that had grown up with her, understood her, and knew her. The only one who knew that she snored if she slept at just the right angle, knew that one of her wings was slightly crooked, and knew why she was deathly afraid of chickens—and was always willing to shoo them away for her.
Not without teasing her, of course. Oh, yes. The teasing, she had not missed.
And now, the mare that had given her the gift of a restored family—a gift beyond compare—would be joining her family, if only by relation to her brother. After today, Celestia would have the honor of calling Twilight Sparkle family.
But... that had been before Twilight's uncharacteristic, shocking outburst during the wedding rehearsal. She'd known that she and Shining Armor were close, but to be this jealous and protective? Especially with Cadance? The girls had always gotten along beautifully—what could have happened?
And now Twilight might not attend the wedding at all, on Shining Armor's insistence. Perhaps it had been too much to hope for. She had already been blessed by a truly miraculous amount of good luck in the last several decades alone. So what if she couldn't have everything she wanted? She had long ago resigned herself to a simple truth: some things were beyond her reach.
She looked into the mirror and again brushed a hoof along the right side of her neck, just below her jaw. There, marring her otherwise snow-white coat was a pitch-black mark—an image of a broken mask, cracked and pitted, with oddly-organic holes threaded throughout. She traced the spiky, pointed script beneath it that only she could read.
It can't be you. Don't! it read.
Her soul mark.
She could count the number of ponies who knew what it said with her hooves alone. At first, the secrecy had been out of a jealous sort of possessiveness. She had imagined those first words as a playful—but ultimately pleased—sort of rejection. But after the first century passed without a whisper of a soul mate, that possessiveness had turned to dread. What she had first imagined as playful felt more like a desperate plea every time she read the words. What sort of first encounter began with a soul mate rejecting her, then begging?
What sort of soul mate still lived after six hundred years, but remained unknown to her?
The latch to her bedchambers clicked quietly and she glanced at the door through the mirror. Deep blues and blacks, and a cadence of hooves that even a millennium apart hadn't erased from her memory.
"Luna," Celestia said, blinking. "You're up early. I didn't expect to see you for another hour at least."
Luna was one of the few ponies she had revealed the words of her soul mark to. Once things had settled down after her return, it was one of the very first questions she had asked Celestia.
Celestia hadn't been ready—it had been over two hundred years since the last pony who knew what her soul mark actually said had passed away.
But it hadn't been just some other pony. It was Luna.
In the end, she had told Luna everything. And Luna had listened, without reservation or judgment. And now...
Luna yawned and took a sip from the large mug of steaming coffee suspended in her aura. Celestia noted that it read best princess. "My sleep was marred by troubled dreams. When I awoke, I was informed of the events of the rehearsal. I suspected my presence was needed here more than abed. By the look on your face as I came in, I was right."
Celestia frowned. "You need your sleep. You don’t need to worry about me."
Luna rolled her eyes and threw herself onto Celestia's bed, rumpling the covers. Celestia's frown deepened. "Somepony must. For all that you are surrounded by maids and servants, few are willing to gainsay you."
"Luna, I'm fine."
Luna gave Celestia a flat look. "You were worrying at your mark again. You only do that when something is truly distressing you."
A glance down revealed that Celestia had indeed been unconsciously rubbing at her soul mark again. With a frustrated huff she lowered her hoof with a small stomp.
"What troublest thou, sister mine? Speak to me, Tia," Luna implored.
Celestia sighed and looked away, pacing a few steps before turning back. "You heard about the rehearsal, you said?"
Another sip of coffee. "Imagine that I haven't."
The pacing began in earnest. "It was Twilight. First, she was late to the rehearsal, which is already uncharacteristic. Then, when she does show up, she calls Cadance evil! It makes no sense. She's close to her brother, but she's never been protective of him like this. And against Cadance of all ponies—Twilight loves her!" Celestia exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "Twilight's mother once told me that Cadance was the only foalsitter they'd ever had that Twilight herself asked for. Getting Twilight to even remember another pony's name was an accomplishment back then! I just don't understand!" Celestia dragged a hoof through her mane roughly and stared at the floor as though it would yield answers.
Luna blinked slowly, then drained her mug of coffee. It took several noisy seconds that Celestia spent glaring. Finally, she finished and set the mug aside on Celestia's nightstand. "Would it be a fair assumption that you spoke harshly to young Twilight Sparkle upon your exit?"
Celestia's face twisted and she looked away. "Yes. I told her that she had a lot to think about. Which... might have been harsh, upon reflection. She overstepped, yes, but her brother had also just told her she was no longer welcome at his wedding."
"Mmm." Luna nodded, and was silent for a moment. "Do you trust Twilight Sparkle's judgment, sister?"
A sigh. "Usually, yes. But I fear that she's not being objective in this case."
Luna slid off the bed and moved to the room's expansive Prench doors, and stared out at the late afternoon sunlight. She turned to look at Celestia over her shoulder. "How well do you know Captain Shining Armor?"
Celestia blinked. "Reasonably well. He's been captain of the Royal Guard for several years now."
"Better than his sister?"
Celestia pursed her lips. "I take your point. No."
Luna nodded. "The wedding is not till the morrow. There is still time. Find your student, and speak with her. Seek to understand her point of view, and find reconciliation if you are able. We may be able to salvage this and find you your happy ending yet."
Celestia gave Luna an embarrassed smile. "How did you guess?"
Luna rolled her eyes. "You have always been a hopeless romantic. Besides, I confess to sharing your desire—I would be honored to have my savior as a glad member of our family as well. Now—" Luna gave a huge, jaw-cracking yawn—"I believe that it is time to see if the kitchen day staff have yet mastered the dark art of preparing breakfast past the hour of ten," Luna said, striding toward the door.
"Luna!" Celestia called. Luna turned and raised an eyebrow. "Would you... be there during the wedding itself? I know it's during the middle of your sleep cycle, but..." she trailed off hopefully.
Luna rolled her eyes, but wore a tiny smile. "If it will make you happy, yes. And I'm certain that our niece will be delighted as well. But I expect you to make excuses for me when I start snoring into my dinner at the reception."
"Thank you," Celestia said, smiling.
Luna gave her sister a negligent wave, and left, closing the door behind her.
Celestia let out a long, slow breath. All she had to do was find Twilight, and speak to her. Maybe get everypony—Twilight, Cadance, Shining Armor, and herself as mediator—together and talk things out. Luna was right—she could still salvage this.
Celestia stood at the altar, wearing her smile like a shield. She had been unable to find Twilight Sparkle yesterday and—more concerning—nopony had seen her since yesterday's rehearsal. As the morning wore on, a deep pit of dread had formed in her stomach, and nothing she did dispelled it.
Something was wrong.
But there was a royal wedding to attend to, and the kingdom was watching. Neither Shining Armor, nor Cadance, nor Twilight's friends seemed worried, so Celestia took her cues from them. But she had been unable to banish a nagging suspicion since her conversation with Luna the previous evening. She had been unable to speak with Cadance directly, but Celestia had begun to watch her more closely in the limited time they had together and...
...did she seem more curt than usual? No more than might be explained by pre-wedding jitters, or the stress of coordinating a complex social event. But that was a touch out of character for her, wasn't it? Cadance usually responded to stress by smiling and being as aggressively cheerful and outgoing as possible, then drowning her sorrows in cheap romance novels later. But getting married was a momentous event, and a central part of her domain as the Princess of Love. It wasn't impossible that she might behave a little strangely, given the circumstances.
Right?
Luna gave a little cough from where she was seated in the front row. Celestia snapped her head up just in time to see the doors opening to admit the three flower fillies and the bride herself. She glanced at Shining Armor to gauge his reaction. He was staring at Cadance with a stunned smile, and little exhausted crow's feet gathered around the corners of his eyes. Celestia gave a small internal grimace—maintaining the shield around the city had been taking its toll.
Cadance strutted down the aisle to the tune of a twelve-pony trumpet march, and favored Shining Armor with a brilliant grin as she arrived at the altar. He responded with a tired smile of his own and they both turned to Celestia. She pushed her anxiety down; she had a job to do.
"Mares and gentlecolts, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Shining Armor..."
One unfortunate side effect of a millennium of rule was that giving speeches had long ago ceased to occupy her full attention. She gave the speech on autopilot and divided the rest of her attention to fretting. At best, Twilight was missing a pivotal event in the lives of two ponies who were very important to her. At worst...
Time for that later. The vows had been exchanged, and now there was one last part for her to play. "Princess Cadance and Shining Armor, it is my great pleasure to pronounce you—"
"STOP!"
Celestia cut herself off with a small gasp. She knew that voice.
Twilight.
And not far behind her, a second Cadance—this one bruised and disheveled, but with a look in her eye that Celestia recognized at once. She glanced at the Cadance resplendent in wedding finery, and her sense of dread returned, so strong that it turned her stomach. Now that she had both of them to compare, there was something off about this other Cadance.
Twilight had been right.
The impostor's words washed over Celestia, and before she could think to act, a pillar of green fire exploded upward from the false Cadance. She stumbled backward, turning her face away instinctively. When she turned back, the sight that greeted her was something out of a nightmare.
Pitch black chitin, fangs, ragged gossamer wings, and a wicked, curved horn. With features both equine and insectoid, Celestia listened in stunned horror as the monster outlined her plans for Equestria. Her horror turned to growing fury as the changeling queen revealed how she had suborned Shining Armor, and brought an invading force to bear against Canterlot.
"First, we take Canterlot!" the changeling queen crowed, flying into the air. "And then, all of Equestria!"
"No." Celestia stomped a single hoof against the floor. A curl of smoke rose from it, and she took a breath, mastering herself. "You won't."
The changeling queen whipped around to stare at her with wide eyes, then fluttered gracelessly to the ground as her flight faltered.
"You may have made it impossible for Shining Armor to perform his spell," Celestia continued, striding toward the changeling, who began to back away. "But now that you have so foolishly revealed your true self, I can protect my subjects," she lit her horn, "from you!"
The changeling queen continued to stare at her, wide-eyed, openmouthed. Her jaw worked silently for a moment as the magical corona wreathing Celestia's horn continued to grow. "It can't be you," she whispered. Then, seeming to return to herself, crossed her hooves over her face and lit her horn in response. "Don't!" she cried.
It felt like Celestia had taken a punch to the gut. Her horn guttered out and she staggered back, reeling. "W-what did you say?"
Almost without conscious thought, her eyes darted to the changeling queen's neck. There, in incongruous pure white, was a rising sun. Underneath it, in graceful curving script were the words No. You won't.
She had never seen writing like that before.
But she could read it.
This monstrous queen was her soul mate.
The world spun around her as she grappled with the implications. Her soul mate, the one pony—creature—in all the world with the closest connection to her was a love-sucking fiend. A creature that subsisted on what it could steal through deception and trickery. A monster that thought nothing of attacking another kingdom just because it had something she wanted. A ruler who called herself a queen, but called her subjects her "minions". Celestia could not think of any being she had met with whom she had less in common. They were even opposite colors!
Before her, the changeling queen slowly retreated, shaking her head all the while. Celestia could see her repeating the same word over and over and again to herself, like a mantra.
As the queen backed up further, her voice rose in volume, and Celestia was finally able to make out the word. "No. No. No, no, no," she muttered, growing steadily in volume. "No, no no no no no no! NO!" she screeched in a voice laced with power, and enough force to rival the Royal Canterlot Voice.
The queen's screech blew out the windows of the room, and Celestia staggered back, flashing a shield into existence above the crowd to protect them from falling glass. Eyes wild, the changeling queen lifted into the air, wings fluttering as she weaved to and fro, then wheeled about.
Celestia raised her head and forced herself to focus on the retreating queen. She reached out a hoof—for what, even she wasn't sure. "Wait!" she cried.
But her entreaty was ignored. With a second, even louder screech, the queen fled to the skies above Canterlot, and shattered Shining Armor's shield. The pressure wave forced Celestia back, and she staggered and fell to her knees. She turned her head back to the sky just in time to watch the queen's retreat. Smaller changelings swept into formation behind their queen, and within moments, they were nothing more than a collection of vanishing black dots against the horizon.
As the retreating army vanished into the distance, Celestia picked herself up off the floor, and carefully planted all four hooves, taking care to ensure that her stance was steady. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, held it until it hurt, then let it out slowly.
Then she opened her eyes and put the mask on. She had a kingdom of scared ponies to reassure. It was her job to make them believe that everything was going to be okay.
Celestia stood on the castle's ceremonial royal balcony and stared at a slumbering Canterlot.
The wedding had come and gone. After the dust had settled, they had collectively looked around and decided: everypony was still there, and there were no injuries beyond scrapes and bruises, so why not have the wedding?
There had been a whirlwind effort to clean, primp, preen, and otherwise restore the damage caused by the changeling invasion. Afterward, Shining Armor and Cadance had been appropriately radiant, relieved that the other was okay, and ecstatic to finally be married. Twilight Sparkle's reunion with Shining Armor and her friends had been tearful and apologetic by turns. Celestia had given her student a much-deserved apology, and had promised to have a longer conversation with her in the morning.
Celestia had gone to sleep and found that, tired as she was, she could not sleep. Finally alone with her thoughts, she'd had no choice but to confront them. She thought better on her hooves, so she'd gone for a walk and found herself here. A cool breeze blew across the balcony, carrying the scent of lavender, and making the hanging planters sway.
A clacking of hooves came from behind her, and while her ears swiveled to track the sound, Celestia made no further movement. After a moment, Luna joined her at the balustrade and leaned against it. She was chewing noisily on a cinnamon roll, her best princess mug floating next to her, still steaming. She grunted by way of greeting.
"We really must stop meeting like this." Celestia gave Luna a small grin out of the corner of her mouth.
Luna took a gulp from her mug. "Mmm."
The smell coming from the mug made Celestia raise an eyebrow. It was a powerful mix of coffee and something sweeter. "What's in there? Coffee and...?" Celestia nodded at Luna's mug.
After a brief pause to take another bite of her roll, Luna wordlessly floated the mug over to her sister for inspection. Celestia leaned in and sniffed at it. Coffee, certainly, along with something sweeter? She leaned in to take a sip, but Luna jerked it away before she could.
"Mine," she said, glaring. After a moment's pause, she continued, "Mint chocochino. Coffee, chocolate, some mint, and vanilla cream. T'is a great help in clearing the mind." She took another long sip.
Celestia stuck out her tongue and made a face. "I see. I'll pass."
"So, art thou mooning over thy soul mate's unfortunate identity?"
Celestia's eyes flicked involuntarily to Luna's charge, floating serenely in the night sky, casting a pale glow over the landscape.
"Really, Luna." She glared. "And I know you can speak modern Equestrian."
The only reply was an annoyed grunt."Thou havest leave to correct mine speech 'pon an eve in which I've had more than four hours of sleep. But if thou—you—insist."
Celestia turned back to Canterlot and sighed. "But yes. I cannot sleep. I've spent centuries fantasizing and fearing by turns what it would be like to finally find my soul mate. Now that I've found her, I'm just... angry." A frustrated huff. "Destiny says that we're meant for each other? Most of the time things that are good for me are bad for Equestria. If being linked to a monster queen is somehow meant to make me stronger, I fear that it can only mean that it will make Equestria weaker."
An enormous sigh from Luna presaged her cramming the remaining piece of her cinnamon roll into her mouth and washing it down with a swig from her mug. "Sister, know that I love thee dearly." She turned to face Celestia directly. "So pull your head out of your plot and do something about it." At Celestia's owl-eyed stare, Luna huffed and continued, "You have spent the last several centuries fretting and fearing and hoping about your soul mate. Now, you have finally found her. You can do something about it. You say you want a relationship with her that does not damage Equestria? Then forge one."
Gobsmacked, Celestia continued to stare at Luna for several long seconds. After a moment, she blinked and shook her head, then took a deep breath. Then, to Luna's surprise, Celestia enveloped the smaller alicorn in a fierce hug. "I missed you, little sister," Celestia whispered.
Unable to properly return the hug, pinned as she was by her sister's wings and forelegs, Luna settled for smiling and nuzzling the underside of Celestia's chin. "I did not expect that would be so easy."
Celestia shook her head and gave a little laugh. "I was so tangled up in 'what if' and 'could be'... but you reminded me that it really can be that simple. What happens next is up to me. Now that I know who—and what—she is, I can finally do something about it." Her hoof brushed her soul mark reflexively. "Now," she said, stretching, "it is far past my bedtime. Unless I want to try inventing my own horrid wake-up elixir, I had best try to sleep."
"Rest soundly, sister. I will ensure your pleasant dreams, should you find your way to slumber."
"I appreciate it." Celestia gave Luna one last hug and made her way back inside.
As Celestia entered the hall adjoining the balcony's antechamber, she heard a gasp and a muted thunk. Frowning, she trotted around a corner to find a discarded feather duster and a vase wobbling upon its plinth. Odd.
She gave a huge, jaw-cracking yawn and shook her head. Something to worry about in the morning, perhaps; for now, her bed was calling her name.
Shining Armor frowned and rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. "I can't say I'm a hundred percent comfortable with it, but I understand why this is important to you. And... on balance, I guess I'd rather have her where we can see her."
After sharing a glance with Shining Armor, Cadance nodded. "I agree. I think this could be exciting for you, auntie! Not to say there's any love lost between that bug bit—ahem. That unpleasant creature and me, but..." Cadance clasped her hooves together, and stared at Celestia with shining eyes. "Soul mates! You've finally found yours after centuries of searching!" She squealed, her rear hooves tapping excitedly against the marble floor.
A knot of worry she hadn't noticed before loosened in Celestia's chest. She nodded. "Thank you both. I know that after what happened to the two of you, this is difficult. I appreciate your approval, and I'll do my utmost to keep her from causing any further mayhem."
She and the newlywed couple were enjoying a late morning tea on the balcony attached to her chambers. The city's weather team had scheduled a lovely, beautifully clear day. She could see a shining ribbon of water lazily winding its way through the Canter Valley all the way to the horizon where, if she looked closely, she could just see a barren strip of land, where the fertile plains gave way to the arid badlands.
Changeling territory, if initial scouting reports were accurate.
Her plan, such as it was, had crystallized as she had raised the sun this morning. Luna was right. She needed a chance to actually talk to this changeling queen. Now that she had the approval of the two ponies the queen had hurt the most, she felt comfortable moving forward. How to actually accomplish the task was another story, but Celestia was confident that they could work something out.
Shining stood, and gave a short bow to Celestia. "I should probably get going. The Guard is all keyed up after what happened yesterday, and I think seeing me would be good for morale."
"Of course. Thank you again, Shining Armor."
"Ma'am." Shining saluted, then turned to Cadance and gave her a brief kiss. "Love you, Cadey-bug. See you for lunch?"
"Of course," Cadance said. "Stay safe out there, my hunky knight!"
Shining blushed and trotted away.
"Hmm," Celestia said, eying his retreating form. "You were right—he does look good both coming and going."
Shining stumbled slightly, and his pace accelerated until he was out of sight. Cadance turned to Celestia with a scandalized grin. "Auntie!" She descended into giggles for a moment. "You're in a good mood today!" She adopted a thoughtful expression for a moment, then leaned onto the table as her grin grew unsettlingly predatory. "Why could that be, hmmm?"
"I am," Celestia said, ignoring the bait. "I spoke with Luna last night. It helped put things into perspective. I also spent some time thinking about what the changeling queen said in her little victory speech. It's one of the things that made me decide to move forward with this plan." "Oh—thank you," Celestia nodded at the maid collecting the now-empty teapot and teacups. "She said that she invaded Equestria to try to feed her people. I'll admit to some uneasiness about the way she called them her 'minions' a few moments later, but... well, she must care for her subjects to some degree. That means we must have some common ground. It's a place to start, at least."
Cadance passed her dishes to the maid, who favored her with a curtsy and a murmured thanks. "I suppose. You really think it won't just turn into a fight?"
Celestia gazed back toward the strip of barren, rocky land at the edge of the horizon. She shrugged, wearing a pensive expression. "The badlands are a harsh, hot, inhospitable place. Doing something as aggressive as invading Canterlot when their talents seem suited to subterfuge seems to bely desperation. Maybe they just need help, and don't know how to ask."
"Oh, I'm so excited for you!" Cadance clapped her hooves together, and squealed again.
"Really?" Celestia said, turning and raising an eyebrow. "To be quite honest, I'm surprised you agreed so easily."
Cadance gave a wave and a cheery smile. "I'm happy that you're happy! You deserve it! But don't get me wrong," she continued, gaze darkening, "if I were alone in a room with that 'queen', I'd do my best to splatter her against a wall like the bug she is."
Motes of dust drifted lazily through the late afternoon sunbeams, and transformed them into tiny orange spotlights. The usual gilt of the Canterlot Royal Castle was, if not absent, then at least muted here. Pale lavenders were in abundance, and the room was dominated by a large, low-slung coffee table surrounded by plush, well-stuffed cushions edged in gold. Large windows framed a pair of Prench doors that led out to an expansive balcony overflowing with greenery and bird feeders.
An unassuming door on the far side of the room led to a separate bedroom. A small kitchenette was nestled in the corner, and notable for its profusion of tea and tea accessories, including a well-worn kettle. The rest of that wall was occupied by a well-stocked drinks cabinet made of dark wood.
The drifting dust swirled into eddies and storms as it was disturbed by Celestia opening the door. She paused to turn and nod her thanks to the guards posted outside, then closed the door and stood for a moment, staring at the plain panel of wood. She took a deep breath then, slowly, allowed her head to sag until it rested against the door. She paused for several long moments, and just allowed herself to breathe.
Then, with a huff, she turned away and made her way to the kitchenette. She reached for the teapot out of habit, then looked down at it and stopped. Frowned. Turned instead to the drinks cabinet and spent a moment considering before reaching in and levitating out a bottle and a single glass tumbler.
It had been a long day, she thought as she carried the bottle and glass over to the table. After the slow morning, and a discussion first with Twilight Sparkle, then Twilight and her friends, the castle's machinery had kicked into high gear and not stopped since. There were nobles panicked about the "monster invasion" that needed soothing, a pile of requests for reinforcement from Guard garrisons, and more requests (and, depending on the outlet, outright demands) for interviews from newspapers than even her clerks could possibly manage in a single day.
Celestia never could have managed without the assistance of Raven, her chief aide. Even then, she had come close to tearing her mane out in frustration. But now, she thought as flopped onto her favorite cushion next to the table, she could take a few minutes to be alone and relax. She kicked her golden hoofguards off one-by-one, and took a guilty pleasure in the weighty metallic thunks they made against the carpet. She lifted her crown off her head and set on the table, then did the same with the peytral around her neck.
Finally divested of her regalia and comfortable, she allowed herself a moment to read the bottle's label and sigh happily.
Moon Shine Princess's Private Reserve
Luna made it personally, using real moonbeams. Celestia had tried to mimic it several times in the years after the banishment, but had never been able to get it quite right. After Luna's return, Celestia had suggested that they make a batch together and Luna had been all too pleased to do so. Celestia hadn't had the heart to tell Luna that linguistic drift had given "moonshine" a much different meaning in her absence.
She poured two measures into the glass, then lifted it and sniffed. The sharp scent was a mixture of sweet sugar, mint, and clear night air off a cool lake, and it burned the whole way through her sinuses. Satisfied, she took a sip and sighed as it slid into her belly and left a ball of warmth in its wake.
Celestia leaned back and allowed herself a moment to think that maybe things would work out.
Which was, of course, the moment Luna barged into the room. "Sister!" she cried, "I needs must speak with you anon!"
Celestia blinked, then peered out at the guards who were staring helplessly after the lunar diarch. She motioned for them to shut the door, and they nodded and did so. "Luna. I am... surprised you are awake so early, especially after yesterday."
"I have hadst the most terrible dream, sister mine!" Luna said, holding a foreleg across her eyes. She took a seat at the table across from Celestia, spilling into the cushion dramatically.
"Oh?" Celestia raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."
"The queen of the changelings hadst takeneth thine student prisoner. Even now, she holds her hostage, and demandeth your presence!"
Celestia slowly raised her other eyebrow, and took a sedate sip of the moonshine. As smooth as ever. "And?"
Luna stared at her, blinking, before waving her hooves in the air. "We must prepare a rescue party at once!"
Celestia peered down at the tumbler between her hooves for a long moment, thinking. Almost unconsciously, her hoof brushed against her soul mark. She looked up. "You don't actually know how Luna's dreamwalking abilities work, do you?"
"Luna" stared at her, wide-eyed for a moment before her expression flattened and she sighed. "Well, it was worth a shot."
A flare of green fire consumed the false Luna. After a moment, it cleared, revealing a tall figure in ebony chitin and of regal bearing. "Hello again, princess," hissed the changeling queen.
Then, she seized the bottle of moonshine from the table and broke it over Celestia's head.
Completely unprepared, Celestia crashed to the floor. Glass shards flew everywhere as the bottle shattered. Celestia's eyes burned as she tried to blink them clear of the high-proof alcohol. She stumbled to her feet just in time to catch a beam of concentrated magic right between the eyes.
Celestia stumbled back to her hooves, shaking her head. Something smelled like smoke, and burnt hair.
She was finally able to open her eyes a crack, and winced as the burning suddenly vanished, and was replaced with arid dryness. Bizarrely, orange and blue tongues of color licked at the air in front of her like...
Oh. The beam of magic had set the moonshine dripping down her face aflame. She was on fire.
Fortunately, she and fire had an understanding with one another. She calmly scraped the flaming spirits off her face with telekinesis and gathered them into a burning blue ball. Now with clear vision, she turned to the changeling queen and huffed. "How rude." With an effort will, she extinguished the burning ball, which sent up a little curl of steam.
The changeling queen stared wide-eyed. "I... didn't mean..." Her face abruptly shifted into a snarl. "I suppose you would be more resistant to mind control than some unicorn guard."
So it had been an attempt at mind control magic. Celestia wondered if she was truly that much more resistant, or if the sudden burst of flame had just surprised the changeling. Her expression in the moment afterward seemed to hint at the latter. "I'll thank you to remember that Shining Armor is more than merely 'some guard'—he is the captain of my Royal Guard, and a friend. I am rather put out at your treatment of him."
The changeling queen began circling the table, and Celestia mirrored her. "Oh, was he the captain? I suppose I forgot," she said, with feigned contrition. "I guess I thought of him as more of a snack," she said with a smirk.
Celestia ignored the attempt to get a rise out of her. "Why are you here? I could call for the guards and have you thrown into the dungeons in an instant."
In response, the changeling queen simply laughed. "I think we both know that if you were going to call your guards, you would have done so the second I dropped my disguise. You," she said, jabbing a hoof toward Celestia, "are curious!"
"And you aren’t?" Celestia tilted her head. "You finally have the answer to a soul mark you've borne your entire life."
The changeling queen scoffed. "A true queen has no time for such trifling nonsense."
"Hmmm. And yet, here you are, at the heart of a kingdom on high alert. I think you're more curious than you let on, bug."
"Bug?!" The changeling queen's eye's bulged, and she stopped, and drew herself up. "You are in the presence of the queen of changelings, none other than Queen Chrysalis herself!"
Celestia stopped as well, and couldn't entirely suppress a tiny thrill in spite of herself. Chrysalis. Her soul mate's name. An unsettling and alien name for an unsettling, alien creature. "Well met, Chrysalis. Now that we're properly acquainted, may I ask why you found it prudent to invade my home and break a rather expensive bottle of moonshine upon my face?"
"Hmph. This all would have been much easier if you'd simply fallen under my spell." Chrysalis looked away briefly. "I had planned to simply subdue you, force you to tell me about your plans for my people, then leave you drained of love and helpless."
Celestia blinked. "Did it never occur to you to simply... ask?"
"And be fed more of that tripe about common ground and just wanting to talk you bandied about today?" Chrysalis scoffed. "Please."
Celestia froze. She had only mentioned the idea of sharing common ground with Chrysalis to Cadance. Which meant... "Last night. The maid who dropped the duster. That was you. And again, on the balcony this morning, you were the waitress."
Chrysalis responded with an achingly-sweet smile full of fang. "That's right. Your vaunted Royal Guard defenses means nothing to a changeling." She resumed prowling toward Celestia around the table, and Celestia did likewise. "We can be anywhere. Anyone."
"You said that you feed on love," Celestia said. Chrysalis narrowed her eyes at the sudden change in tack, but said nothing. "And that you’d never encountered anywhere as full of love as Equestria. Why steal it?"
A slimy pink tongue whipped forth from Chrysalis' mouth, and its tip trailed up from corner of Celestia's jaw to the base of her ear before it was retracted with whipcrack speed. At Celestia's full-body shudder, Chrysalis leered. "That is why. No creature would willingly love a changeling. We are monsters to them, princess," she said, spitting Celestia's title.
Celestia scowled. "If you insist on being deliberately unpleasant, I hardly find it surprising that you struggle to find love. But I believe that you are wrong. I believe that if you gave my little ponies a chance, they would surprise you."
Chrysalis surprised Celestia by surging up and planting her forehooves on the table. "Oh yes. The perfect, polite, pretty pony princess," she hissed, biting off the 'p' in each word, "in her ivory tower believes that everything will just work out. And then, once all the evil monsters have shown themselves, oh, what a surprise! What a shock!" Chrysalis held her forehooves to her face in mock surprise. "Some thinly veiled pretext! And all the monsters must go, but now her little ponies know how to spot them. How to kill them," she spat. "And the monsters slink back into the darkness, to starve, no longer a threat."
Celestia jerked back as if struck. "Of course that isn't my plan! I want to help you!"
"Of course you do," Chrysalis purred, stalking forward, coming over the table now and looming over Celestia. "Help us until we're so dependent on the ponies that the threat of expulsion is enough to control us. To chain us. Maybe you don't want to end the monsters, hmm? Maybe you want," she trailed a forehoof gently up Celestia's neck, ending atop her soul mark, "to tame them."
With an exasperated cry, Celestia knocked Chrysalis' hoof away. "If you insist on reading ulterior motives into everything I say, we may as well not have a discussion at all! Listen to me!"
Chrysalis retreated and favored Celestia with a smug look. "Oh, princess. Whatever gave you the impression I was interested in a discussion? I'm here for information. My first plan may have failed, but I still intend to get it."
With a buzz that put Celestia in mind of an oversized wasp, Chrysalis spread her wings and fluttered backward and up into the air as a grin spread across her face. She allowed some of that buzzing inflection to creep into her voice as she continued, "I'm not the only changeling who's been busy infiltrating places of importance, you know. How is your dear student? Has little Twilight Sparkle made it home to her library tree safe and sound?" She sneered the name.
A wedge of dread hammered its way into Celestia's heart, but she refused to show it in her expression. "Chrysalis, please—there is no need for threats, or violence. There is no secret plot to ensnare the changelings, or destroy them, or tame them. I wish merely to talk."
Chrysalis crossed her forelegs and drifted backward. "And I don't believe you. One does not rule for centuries without a willingness to dirty their hooves. Perhaps if I up the stakes, hmmm? Ponyville is a remarkably trusting place. It would be so easy to arrange for the other five to meet a new pony, and then just..." Chrysalis brought her hooves to her mouth in mock surprise, "vanish! Little Twilight Sparkle and her friends do seem to care for each other a great deal... I'm willing to bet all that love could feed the hive for quite some time!"
Celestia surprised even herself by growling at Chrysalis. "If you hurt them, they won't even find your ashes."
Chrysalis zipped backward, then leaned forward, surprise warring with glee upon her face. "Oh! So I have found a sore spot. But don't worry princess. I'd never hurt them—they'd be valuable stock for the hive. Well," Chrysalis made a show of tapping a forehoof against her chin and pretending to think, "I suppose if they fought back too hard, I might not have a choice. I'd hardly want them to end up like Sunset Shimmer, of course."
The fires of Celestia's anger were instantly snuffed out. Her stomach dropped out from underneath her like she'd been soaring through the sky, and had suddenly fallen into free fall. "Sunset?"
"Oh, yes." Chrysalis cackled and leaned in closer. "Hadn't you wondered why she never came back? Oh, she tried! But she ran afoul of my changelings and I. We tried to capture her, but she was too powerful to subdue... but not too powerful to end." She slithered around behind a motionless Celestia, and began whispering into her ear. "Would you like to know what her final words were?
Sunset Shimmer had fled years ago, driven away by Celestia's uncanny knack for hurting those she loved the most. Just like with Luna, she had been blind to Sunset's pain until it had overflowed, and then instead of treating it with the delicacy and respect it deserved, she had donned the mask. Had told Sunset that she was only doing what was best. For her, for Equestria, for everypony. But Sunset had tried to come back. Had tried to make amends. Had swallowed her pride first, instead of waiting for the immortal, perfect princess to do so. Sunset had, in the end, been the better pony.
And... she had died for it. Been murdered for it.
By Celestia's own soul mate.
Celestia blinked away tears and took a deep, shuddering breath. She wiped her eyes clear, and fixed her gaze on the monster looming over her.
Then, she lit her horn and slammed the changeling queen into the opposite wall so hard that she bounced off and left a Chrysalis-shaped impression.
The door to the room was slammed open as the guards charged inside. "Your majesty, what—oof!"
Or attempted to—the first guard made it no more than two steps into the room before he was scooped up in a golden aura and flung back out the door. He tumbled into his counterpart, and the two of them went sprawling into the hall beyond.
"STAY OUT OF THIS. SHE'S MINE." The force of Celestia's Royal Voice slammed the door closed after the guards, and she was left alone with Chrysalis once more.
Celestia's vision narrowed to the monster in front of her, and she drew in her power. The monster was saying something. Unimportant.
She seized the heaviest thing within sight that could easily be used as a projectile, and sent it rocketing toward the changeling. She narrowly missed, the monster flinching aside at the last moment. Instead of having her face rearranged, Chrysalis was merely showered with bits of stone.
Try again. Celestia siphoned a tiny fragment of the sun's power and channeled it through her horn as a ray of solid heat. A second miss as the monster ducked and shouted.
The monster took to the air and her horn glowed a slime-green. Likely an attack. Defend. The table would do. Lift up the near end, duck behind it, ignore the fiery splinters from the ensuing explosion. Irrelevant.
Useful as a weapon, though. She flung the burning table fragments at the monster and bared her teeth in a feral grin. It had been centuries since she'd been able let loose without feeling guilty. It felt good.
Instead of being flattened by the table, the monster tucked in her legs and dove through the hole in the table's center.
Fine. She snorted and lowered her horn, content to allow the monster to impale herself.
The monster vanished in a flash of green flame. Her eyes widened. Danger!
The monster reappeared in a second green flash and caught her with a right cross directly across the face. She stumbled back, ears ringing.
No! She threw up a shield out of reflex, and laughed as she felt it catch the follow-up beam of magic. "Too predictable, Chrysalis!"
Chrysalis' only reply was a wordless snarl. Celestia waited for Chrysalis to charge up another blast, then dropped her shield. Built a charge in her horn. Waited. Wait for the green flare...
...there! She lunged forward, snapped her head to the side, and caught the blast on the very tip of her horn. Magic struggled against magic briefly, then the beam was redirected to the side, leaving her untouched. She followed through on the lunge, turned it into a charge.
For a split second, their eyes met, two-toned green-and-teal locking onto rich pink. In that split second, Celestia glimpsed shock, and something like... respect?
Then she connected and hammered Chrysalis with a powerful hook from her right forehoof, just above the jaw.
She couldn't relent now. She was winning. She seized the changeling in the tightest telekinetic grip she could muster and slammed her into the left wall. Ignored the splintering bookshelves and shattering glass. Repeated the motion with the opposite wall, ignored the breaking of ceramic bowls and plates. Repeated again, into the floor this time, further pulverizing the coffee table's remnants and the pillows on the floor. Then into the left wall. Then the right wall. Then the floor again.
And again.
And again.
Until the only noises the monster made with each impact were pained exhales.
Panting, Celestia let the magic streaming through her horn fade, and dropped Chrysalis to the ground in a battered heap. Triumphant, she placed one forehoof on the changeling's chest and leaned on it. "Yield."
Chrysalis coughed. "For—" she rasped, then spat a glob of discolored phlegm to the side. "For a sparkly marshmallow, you can throw a punch." She grinned. "Also, you should know," she continued, "I lied."
"What?" Celestia demanded through narrowed eyes.
"I didn't kill Sunset Shimmer. I have no idea where she is. None of my changelings are in Ponyville. Twilight Sparkle is probably fine."
The weight on the hoof increased. Chrysalis groaned. "I don't believe you."
"Contact Twilight Sparkle," she wheezed.
Celestia could. In fact, she could do better—after learning of yesterday's attack, Luna had insisted that all the Bearers be taught individual duress codes. If Twilight responded correctly, she was safe and sound. If not...
Celestia bound Chrysalis in bands of golden magic and quickly penned a letter to Twilight and sent it to Spike with a puff of magic. While she waited... "How did you know about Sunset Shimmer? She's been missing for years, and I kept it out of the press."
Chrysalis' response was a wet chuckle. "Ponies talk, princess." She panted for a moment before continuing. "I've had agents in Canterlot for quite some time."
Before Celestia could continue questioning Chrysalis, a puff of smoke heralded the arrival of a response from Spike. Thank goodness, she thought. She was rattled enough—sitting around waiting for a reply would have been torturous, not to mention logistically challenging. She couldn't keep a changeling queen bound up in her private chambers indefinitely.
A quick review of the response— unusually, written in Twilight's own hornwriting—confirmed that she was unharmed. That, or so hopelessly compromised that her captors had learned her duress codes and forced her to write the response. Celestia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could send members of the Guard to check, or even visit personally, later. For now, this was the information she had to work with.
She turned back to Chrysalis, and dismissed the magical bindings. Chrysalis slumped to the ground with a groan. "Fine. I'm satisfied for now, but I intend to verify this later. I will begin with the obvious question: what in sun's name were you thinking? What possible benefit could there be to goading me like that?"
"Ever heard that the best way to get to truly know a creature is to dangle them over a volcano's edge?" Chrysalis asked, grinning.
"Yes," Celestia replied flatly. "I find to be untrue, and a rather tiresome endeavor." She rolled her eyes. "So, you somehow thought that claiming to have murdered one of my students, and were holding another hostage, would get the truth out of me?" She paused in consideration for a moment. "That seems astonishingly reckless."
A strange buzzing noise emerged from Chrysalis' throat. Celestia tensed for a moment, thinking it was some bizarre new attack, but soon realized that the changeling was giggling. Chrysalis' laughter continued uncontrollably for a moment, acquiring a tinge of madness before she convulsed, and descended into a coughing fit.
After recovering she looked up at Celestia, tears in her eyes—whether from laughter or the coughing, Celestia was uncertain. "We're a race of infiltrators, princess. Our most effective tactic only works if the victims don't know we exist. What do you think could have driven us to try an invasion?" She laughed again, but this time it was a lifeless, bitter thing. "Desperation breeds recklessness. I made a plan to feed my people." She shrugged helplessly. "It wasn't a very good plan. It almost worked, though."
Celestia stared at the changeling queen for several long, silent seconds. Her expression flickered between pity, admiration and exasperation before finally settling on a confused mélange of all three. "You stupid, stubborn, foolhardy creature," she said slowly. "I was serious when I said that I wanted to help. The offer to you and your changelings still stands."
Chrysalis surveyed the room. Splintered bookshelves, broken crockery, dents and holes in the walls, a shattered and still-smoldering coffee table. Finally, her gaze landed on the towering amazon of a pony standing victorious over her. She shivered. "Really."
"Well," Celestia said, looking around, "it's hardly any worse than my first encounter with the dragon lord."
"Despite kidnapping your niece and brainwashing your guard captain?"
"You heard them on the balcony. They're both willing to look past it." She paused, then added, "To an extent."
"Fine then," Chrysalis growled, glowering up at Celestia from where she lay on the floor, "prove it. Give me your love."
A blush was Celestia's immediate response, and the widening of her eyes was entirely involuntary. She coughed and looked away. Chrysalis rolled her eyes. "Not like that." Her voice softened almost imperceptibly from an angry buzz as she continued, "Think of someone or something that you love. Focus on that feeling."
Celestia hesitated. The creature at her hooves had already demonstrated a base level of ruthlessness that she had rarely encountered. She had a penchant for violence, and was distressingly comfortable with it. She had implied that she had no qualms with trickery, deceit, or murder for the sake of her people.
But it would be foolish to allow her little ponies to go to war with a previously-undiscovered race when the problem might be neatly solved with a little diplomacy. Even if she found it personally unpleasant, such was her lot in life. Perhaps that was why the changeling queen was her soul mate—it put her in a unique position to form a powerful bond with a new ally, and serve Equestria. And... perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. In some ways, Celestia found herself respecting Chrysalis' dedication to her people, if not her methods.
The longer she'd stood deliberating, the more Chrysalis' smirk had grown. Just as Chrysalis opened her mouth to speak, Celestia sat with a huff, folding all four legs beneath her, bringing her eye to eye with a now visibly-surprised Chrysalis.
"Okay." Celestia closed her eyes before she could have second thoughts, and did her best to clear her mind.
After a moment of breathing, she allowed herself to refocus. Something or someone she loved... she had an embarrassment of riches there, recent though they were. Her first thought was, of course, her sister. Gone for a thousand years, exiled by her own hoof, a result of her own negligence. Celestia had by turns plotted, schemed, and blundered her way into a plan to bring her sister back, whole and herself once more.
And it had worked. Luna was back, and free to grump at her in the evenings, tease her about her own morning bed-head and even ignore her exquisitely-prepared breakfasts. Her sister tested her sorely at times, but there was nothing in the world she would trade for her. She still occasionally had moments where she simply remembered that her sister was back, and was struck by a bolt of joy.
She had been in similar spirits after discovering Cadance. It had been slightly marred by her inability to avoid comparing her to Luna, but just to have found another alicorn was a blessing. One of Celestia's quiet joys was passing along what she could of her vast repertoire of knowledge. Teaching Cadance how to use her newly-acquired horn and connection to the earth had been a unique gift, one she would always treasure.
And she could hardly think of her love of teaching without thinking about a particular purple filly—mare now—who had shattered records, consistently done the impossible, and made her so proud she felt fit to burst. And when challenged, Twilight Sparkle had stepped out of her comfort zone, and made real connections with a set of exceptional ponies. In the process, she had given Celestia something so precious, that even with all the wealth and power at her command, she could never repay the debt.
And now, Twilight Sparkle was part of... was part of her family...
Celestia's head swam, and she swayed. She suddenly felt ten times heavier. She opened her eyes to find herself face-to-maw with an open-mouthed Chrysalis. The changeling had opened her mouth as wide as it would go, and her fearsome fangs were on full display. A thick pink miasma was wafting from Celestia and vanishing down Chrysalis' gullet.
Now that Celestia had stopped focusing, the stream of pink died down to a trickle, and Chrysalis consumed the last of it with a satisfied slurp. As it vanished, some invisible support disappeared and Celestia toppled to the side, too weak to remain upright, even laying on all fours.
Chrysalis towered over her, wounds healed, wearing a victorious smile, fangs prominently on display. "Oh, princess. You really are as weak and soft-hearted as I thought." She cackled and swept toward the balcony doors. "But it seems like you were telling the truth after all—you really didn't have any sort of reprisal planned! I suppose my work here is done, then. Now," she kicked the doors open, "I'd love to stay and finish the job, but I think all this silence is going to make your guards suspicious soon." She turned, and spread her wings.
Summoning up the dregs of her strength, Celestia managed to reach out with a single foreleg. "Wait!" she cried weakly.
Chrysalis turned and peered over her shoulder. "Why?"
"We're soul mates!" Celestia cried desperately. "I've been searching for you for—" Celestia's voice broke. "For hundreds of years," she whispered.
That made Chrysalis turn around. She stomped toward Celestia and stared down at her, eyes blazing. "This?" She demanded, jabbing a hoof at the soul mark on her neck. "I told you: this is nothing. You ponies are content to let your little tramp stamps direct your lives, but I refuse," she hissed, "to let a blemish direct my fate."
"What about your people, then?"
Chrysalis' face twisted in confusion. "What does that have to do your ridiculous obsession with tattoos?"
Celestia screwed her face up in frustration, and tried to focus through the fog in her mind. "Nothing! Nothing..." She was silent for a moment. "Just... what happens to them next? It took you years to prepare this. You spent days gorging on Shining Armor. And a day later, you're already hungry again. Weak enough that I beat you with no trouble. Equestria knows about changelings now. You can't hide anymore. You admitted you were desperate.
"Please," Celestia continued. "You fed from me. You're satiated for now. But what about tomorrow? Don't you just want to stop sometimes? Aren't you tired?" Celestia's voice broke again, but she continued nevertheless, "Always grinding away at the impossible problems, every single day, all for your subjects. Always for them. But there's no one else. You're alone..."
Celestia's foreleg faltered, and she allowed it to fall to the ground with a sigh. Chrysalis continued to stare down at her, her expression wooden. The room fell quiet for the first time since Chrysalis' entry, with only the sounds of breathing to punctuate the silence. The sun had slipped further beneath the horizon, darkening the beams of sunlight illuminating the room to a ruddy orange. The light dappled Celestia's pristine coat, painting it with bloody splashes of light.
"Is it me you're talking to, Celestia?"
Celestia stared up at Chrysalis, and blinked wearily. Fuzzy blackness was crowding in at the edge of her vision, and she was having trouble focusing. "Five minutes," she mumbled. "Five minutes of willing feeding from me. N'look at you now. Imagine... the rest of your people too." Celestia's head was so heavy. She allowed it to slowly sink to the ground. She just needed a little break. And her eyes, too. She would just rest them for a moment. "Be a hero. Never hungry... again..."
Chrysalis stared down at the princess as she finally succumbed to weariness. The solar diarch, Princess Celestia Sol Invicta, She of Light and Hope herself, was at her mercy.
Even though Chrysalis had been beaten by her.
But... the key to Equestrian power was in this room, and she—Queen Chrysalis of the changelings—held it. This was an opportunity she would certainly never get again. Chrysalis took a deep breath, and made her decision.
Luna slouched toward her sister's room, sans regalia and still wearing her fluffy moon slippers. After the third day in a row of bad sleep, she had given up any pretense of caring what the castle staff thought of her appearance. After she had dealt with whatever problem had cropped up now, she resolved to declare tomorrow a national holiday just so that she could get some sleep. There were deep bags underneath her eyes, her mane was limp, and her wings drooped. Worst of all, she'd been informed that it was an Emergency—one which warranted the capital E—so there had been no time for coffee.
Once she had learned the details of the supposed emergency, her mood had soured immediately, and her frantic gallop had dropped to a surly trot. The poor member of the Royal Guard that had alerted her didn't seem to understand why she had slowed after learning more about what was going on. He was, in fact, still hurrying ahead and looking back at her, unwilling to rush one of his rulers, though he clearly wished to.
It wasn't his fault. Given what Luna knew of modern Equestria, he could hardly be expected to know that when she got like this, Tia hated to be interrupted. The first time Luna had tried to interfere in what her sister termed a "personal duel", it had taken three weeks for the fur on her rump to grow back. To say nothing of what she had accidentally seen in her sister's tent later that night. She shuddered. The modern "sock on the doorknob" was a much more elegant solution.
Tia was a big girl. She could handle herself for a few extra minutes. Still, Luna had better check on her, just in case—the changeling queen was probably no pushover.
Luna was also sort of hoping that she could show up after the fact—she was reluctant to get involved in her sister and her soul mate hashing out several centuries of baggage. The fact that her sister's soul mate was a bizarre, alien, shapeshifting, love-sucking monstrosity certainly didn't help.
She sighed as she approached the door to her sister's chambers. The other guard posted at the door saluted, his expression a mixture of relief and terror. The guard that had been leading her resumed his post at the other side of the door, and was visibly fidgeting in his attempts to not prance nervously. "Thank goodness you're here, your majesty," said the first guard. "I assume you've been apprised of the situation?"
"Indeed. Rest assured, there is no need to fear. My sister is resilient—if she commanded you to remain uninvolved, I am certain that she judged herself more than a match for her foe."
Luna nodded at the two guards and without a further word, entered her sister's chambers.
She closed the door behind her, and surveyed the room.
Well.
There was no sign of her sister, and the room looked like been intimate with a tornado. It could have been worse, she supposed. There could have been holes in the—
Wait, no. It had been hidden by the remains of the drinks cabinet, but there was something embedded in the wall next to the kitchenette. Luna trotted closer to get a better look. It was some sort of black oblong, so deeply embedded that it was nearly flush with the wall. Luna worked her magic around it and gave it a single sharp tug, wrenching it free with a small shower of stony fragments.
Though squashed and cracked almost beyond recognition, Luna knew what it was immediately. Celestia's favorite—and heaviest—teapot. A solid cast-iron exterior, with a ceramic-lined interior, it had enough heft that most ponies struggled to lift it.
If Celestia had been willing to use it as a projectile, or unable to prevent it from being used as one, this was more serious than Luna had thought.
Ignoring the rest of the shattered bookcases, ashy remnants of the coffee table, and the vaguely changeling-shaped impression in the wall she had missed earlier, she trotted to the bedchamber door and slipped inside.
And stopped.
The first thing she noticed was that Celestia was asleep in the bed. Definitely asleep, and not unconscious, as indicated by the bone-rattling snoring. The second thing, which had stopped her in her tracks, was the changeling queen standing next to the bed, close enough that her chest was touching the covers.
At Luna's entry, Chrysalis' head whipped toward her, and she bared her fangs. Luna stood motionless, face impassive. Then, with glacial slowness, she lifted a single eyebrow.
After several seconds of silence, Chrysalis broke first. "What?!" she hissed.
"While I am glad my sister took my advice to heart," she said slowly, "I did not expect her to move quite so quickly."
Chrysalis frowned in confusion. "What do y—" Her face reddened and she choked as she grasped Luna's implication. "That is not what happened here!"
She made as if to step toward Luna, but was brought up short when one foreleg refused to move. Luna cocked her head and looked closer. Then, puffed up her cheeks in a mighty attempt to hold back a snicker. Celestia's forelegs were dangling off the bed, and wrapped around one of Chrysalis' legs. As Luna watched, Celestia's grip tightened, and she muttered something sleepily, then nuzzled Chrysalis' chest.
Chrysalis froze, and her blush intensified. She shot Luna a murderous look. "Not a word."
Luna was nearly shaking with the effort of restraining her laughter. "I believe it is traditional," she managed, "to allow soul mates their privacy to get to know one another. I see," she nodded at the destruction of the room behind her, "that you've already begun. I shan't intrude any further. I shall inform the guards that you are not to be disturbed. Good night!"
Luna gave Chrysalis a brisk nod, and left the room without a further word. Chrysalis ground her teeth together as she heard Luna finally give up the battle against her laughter in the other room. Then, she waited until she heard the outer door open and close. Then, she waited a little more. Then, she glanced around to make absolutely sure there was no one watching.
Finally, she leaned in close to Celestia, briefly nuzzled her cheek, then jerked away. She tried to ignore the way Celestia's happy smile sent a little spark of satisfaction deep into her core.
She was just in it for the love energy. That was all.
