Chrysalis had welcomed the end, but one final visitor forces her to reconsider.
She'd lost her home. She'd lost her family. She'd lost her hope. As Chrysalis nears the end, she makes one final gambit that could cost a princess her life. But as days pass and the future of Equestria grows dim, the former changeling queen finds herself wondering if this is what she really wants.
*Warning: This story is in the process of major rewrites. These rewrites will be released on a separate story when they are finished and marked as Version 2. The rewrites do shift a great deal of the story, leaving only the rough frame of the chapters intact. Because of this, this story is to be considered non-canon to the sequels, but will be kept around for those who wish to compare the two or want to see an alternate take on the story. I apologize for any inconvenience, and hope all you perspective readers out there will continue to enjoy this work for what it is.*
Celestia’s gaze swept over the stone-speckled wasteland far below as she glided through the air. The wind shifted, forcing the alicorn to adjust her wings to keep her altitude. It had been nearly an hour since the slightest hint of greenery had passed. She found herself wondering if anything would ever be able to live here.
In the short time that Celestia had known King Thorax, he’d proven himself trustworthy, even after the rather rocky start of their relationship. Doubting him would be foolish. Still, the two conflicting doubts clashed in the back of her mind as the dust rippled and writhed like an earthen ocean. Settling the storm stewing in her thoughts, she forced herself to focus on the task before her. With the sun poised perfectly center amidst the cloudless blue sky, Celestia surmised her search had lasted the better part of a day. She decided to trust Thorax, but it would have been nice if he could have given her just a little more direction for this journey.
Her budding annoyance only mounted as a harsh gale caused her to falter. Even as high off the ground as she floated, Celestia still managed to find herself caught amidst a swirling cloud of irritating sand. With a defeated sigh, her wings tilted gently. Grains of sand nipped at them, ruffling the feathers as she descended. It seemed that flight would be out of the question for the moment.
Folding her wings, the alicorn dropped gracefully from the air with a practiced dive, landing hard on her horseshoes with enough force to deepen the cracks already spread through the dry earth. The howl of the wind roared through the empty landscape, but she pushed forward with unwavering resolve. As she continued, the sigh of the midday sun faded from view, along with the horizon. The wind whipped through her pastel mane and tail, causing them to billow madly. The sand clung to her porcelain white fur like small needles. With a wave of her horn and a telltale golden glow, she summoned her magic, creating a small golden aura around her. Though nature itself pressed at her magic, the spell never faltered.
As visibility grew worse, Celestia found herself with her head low, a trained eye focused for the slightest anomaly in the rapidly dwindling space visible around her. The alicorn didn’t feel tired, but as she pulled her hoof free from the sand to take another trudging step, Celestia found her thoughts drifting to her bed back in Canterlot. She would have given anything to be nestling between the silky pink bed sheets, nuzzling her mane into the soft feather pillows.
Overwhelmed by her intoxicating fantasies, Celestia’s confidence dwindled. But when the sandstorm lessened briefly, her goal faded into view. Tall stone spires, rising from the sand like talons, clawing desperately at the world above them. Even though the storm hid most of the finer details from view, she could see strange holes bored into the mountain, in patterns far to clean and orderly to be natural. A changeling hive.
The mare allowed her spell to fade as the loose sand beneath her hooves turned to solid rock. Starting with her muzzle, Celestia shook herself free of her desert coat. She would still need a shower once she returned home, but it felt sufficient for the task at hand. For the moment, her appearance hardly registered as a priority. She had scampered straight into foreign territory now. Enemy territory, to be specific. Though initial inspection suggested the hive had long since been abandoned, Celestia knew that danger could lurk around any corner. Dressed in a careful stoicism practiced over centuries of royal court, she held her head high as she stepped into the yawning maw of the deserted hive.
Though her sister may have been master of the night, Celestia had no love for the dark. Tales from her youth told of horrible monsters lurking in the dark, waiting for young fillies to drift off to sleep. The thought sent shudders down her spine. These weren’t stories anymore. Celestia had met what lurked in the dark, been taken by one of them. She may have been the one monster the princess feared most.
The world had changed, though. A string of humiliating defeats had stripped away the legend behind the boogeyman. The changelings abandoned their old ways. Pulled themselves out of the shadows to become true citizens of Equestria. In her heart, Celestia cared for them as she would any of her little ponies. Now, only the biggest monster remained. The changeling queen had fallen from grace, and the fear that Celestia once had of her had diminished, burned away by the love and support of all of those that stood behind her. Determination burned brightly in Celestia, and through the golden light that erupted from her horn as she stepped into the darkness.
The princess had seen fleeting glimpses of a changeling hive during her imprisonment, but the memories were faded and fuzzy. The long empty halls felt much darker and isolating than she remembered, though. She cast her light onto the faded green crystals that protruded from the walls, drawing forth a flicker of their long dormant magic. Once, these gems had bathed the caves around them with their eerie green light. Now, dark and abandoned, they waited for their masters to return.
Changeling never intended their hives to be navigated. The sheer volume of endless caves stretched on far longer than Celestia would’ve believed necessary. Each step brought a slight incline or turn. Sometimes they shifted deeper into the mountain, other times, the princess found herself standing before a near vertical incline. Constant twists and turns had long since warped any sentiment exploration. Celestia found herself almost in awe of the changelings, their trickery and deceit so ingrained into them that even their architecture could not escape its grasp.
Sore hooves and a slight magical strain in her horn told Celestia that she’d been down here for a few hours at least. Dead ends and collapsed tunnels weren’t making her journey any easier. Celestia wondered if even the changelings themselves would be able to navigate their old home in this sorry state. Determination won out eventually. Celestia found herself standing at the threshold of a massive wooden gate. The claustrophobic ceiling vanished, stretching up high enough that even her light couldn’t find it. The same green gems that littered the hive were present here, too. They’d been broken and carved into an intricate mosaic of a changeling queen, proud and confident. It would have been a sight to behold back when magic still flowed freely through it.
With a surge of composure and a deep, steadying breath, Celestia wrapped her golden aura around the doors and pushed them open. The hinges turned with the cry of a dying beast, revealing the shattered remnants of the throne room beyond. All but one of the obsidian pillars still stood on either side of the hall. A section of the roof had collapsed inward, forming a pile of rubble at the base of the broken column, buried by the patter of sand from the storm outside. Torn and faded banners hung from broken hooks; their grand crests unrecognizable now. Sconces filled with green gem shards dotted the walls. Much like their whole counterparts, however, they had lost their light. Without them, the back half of the throne room had been plunged completely into darkness, revealing only the few steps at the base of the queen’s throne. Celestia’s expression hardened as an unseen observer studied her. Chrysalis was here.
The solar princess held her head high as she advanced into the great hall. Standing at her full height, mane and tail billowing in the nonexistent breeze, Celestia stepped into the beast’s lair, stopping at the line where the light and dark swirled in a thick miasma. She could still feel the comforting glimmer of sunlight on her back.
“Princess.” The changeling’s voice reverberated from all directions, dripping with equal parts grace and venom.
“Reveal yourself.” Celestia demanded, her eyes watching for any hint of movement in the darkness. The soft buzz of insect wings fluttered in the quiet. The darkness swirled in thick, roiling waves. Each shape her mind conjured vanished under a careful gaze. “I’ve come to speak with you.”
“You should have sent a message first, Tia.” Celestia’s stomach turned at the malice infecting her nickname. “I would have tidied up. I never would have guessed that I would be worthy of a personal visit from Princess Celestia.” Chrysalis’s voice grew louder as she spoke, breaking into a cackling laugh as she finished.
Celestia stood still and silent as the stone beneath her hooves. She gathered her magic within her, readying her shield while she waited for the changeling’s laugh to die down. Instead, it shifted into a fit of coughing. She’d hardly noticed the change until it stopped abruptly with a pained gasp.
“I told you to show yourself.” Celestia stomped a hoof, her royal voice loud enough to shake a bit of dust from the room. Chrysalis only answered with a weak laugh. The princess felt anger boil in her chest, but something else brewed in the back of her mind. Gritting her teeth, the alicorn flared her wings and focused her magic. The sunlight on her back grew warm as her horn erupted with a flash of light, bathing the room in solar glow.
Celestia stood at the base of Chrysalis’s throne. Short steps led their way up to the throne, the entire ensemble carved from the same black material as the pillars, covered with royal red and gold carpet. Small holes riddled the sides of the altar, just the right size for a changeling to comfortably nestle within. At the peak, stretched across her throne lay the queen herself, her green eyes reflecting the dawn’s light. For a split second, the spell fumbled, dimming slightly as the princess cast her gaze over the creature.
The queen stood regal and proud in Celestia’s mind. The same demanding presence that had faced her down at Cadence’s wedding. A clever and cunning wickedness in her eyes that portrayed a clinical sadistic streak. The form that looked back at her could hardly be called a shadow of the changeling queen.
The changeling queen rested on her side, head low. Her body moved only enough to betray unsteady breathing. Her eyes no longer glowed with the queen’s trademark fire. Her chitin, once as imposing as the void, had faded to a lusterless gray. Patches of her mane were missing, and the remains hidden beneath a coating of filth.
A sense of dread mounting in her gut, Celestia moved her light across the changeling, reading each wound. Small cracks in the queen’s shell trickled with a rust colored sludge, the same that ran from the corner of her jaded smile. Chrysalis dredged herself from her seat, raising to her full height on shaky limbs. One of her insect wings shuddered at the movement, sending a ripple of agony through the torn appendage.
Between agonized breaths, Chrysalis stood defiant of the goddess before her. She lifted a limp hoof forward onto the stairs. The queen descended from her throne, her gait unsteady and strange. A magenta eye focused on the queen’s left hindleg. The shell had been torn away, leaving a pinkish stump where her hoof should have been. She never put any weight on the mangled limb.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare,” Chrysalis sneered.
The hostility snapped Celestia back to the present. She widened her stance and lowered her head. Chrysalis’s laugh turned to wheezing then into coughing. The queen collapsed, head in her hooves. More of that red-brown sludge dribbled out with each croak.
“I’ve come to take you back with me.” Celestia relaxed minutely.
“No.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion.” Celestia advanced, sending the queen shrinking back with each step. “You need help.”
Chrysalis began to shiver. She could feel the princess’s emotions flavor the air. Entombed beneath anger, Chrysalis tasted sorrow. The bitter flavor made her skin crawl. “Haven’t you princesses helped enough?” The queen twitched as a dose of adrenaline rushed through her.
“You’ll die without it,” The words sounded calm and soothing. Her instincts screamed. Even with one foot in the grave, Chrysalis shouldn’t be taken lightly. Fear pushed through the alicorn’s mind. Her defeat at Cadence’s wedding, her entrapment within the hive. At that moment, Celestia felt the pain of each pony affected by Chrysalis’s machinations. Yet, she could not bring herself to hate the broken thing before her.
That thought tortured Chrysalis more than all the pain she’d suffered thus far. To drive a benevolent goddess to hate would have been a rousing success. But pity . . . Hurt. Her senses blistered at the taste of it. She grit her teeth, ignoring the pain of her fang as it shattered.
“I know.”
Celestia flinched but did not recoil. She stepped forward, reaching a guiding hoof toward the dying changeling.
One last surge of energy poured into Chrysalis. As that golden horseshoe inched ever closer to her face, she reached her breaking point. Her limbs bucked. Her plate cracked. Her muscles tore. She lashed forward with demonic intent.
The movement had been sudden and swift, like the shot of a cannon. With a cold green glow, Chrysalis’s horn tore into the princess’s shoulder. While her heart wished to deny the inevitable betrayal, her body had been ready for it. The searing pain in her flank told her she hadn’t been quick enough. The changeling’s horn tore a deep gash behind the princess’s shoulder. With a sickening crack, the twisted black horn snapped, remaining impaled at the far end of the wound. And with a final cry, the changeling’s limp form dropped to the ground. Her eyes dimmed, the wicked smile on her face fading to the sound of a long sigh.
The room swirled around Celestia as she plucked the broken horn from her side, tossing it to the ground with a clatter. Warmth seeped into her white fur, leaving her oddly cold. Attending to her wound quickly would be the best option, but she knew better than to take her eyes off the changeling for long. Despite the pain, she thoroughly inspected her extended wings, finding them undamaged and flight worthy. With a pained exertion, she stepped back into her sunlight, turning her back to the unmoving changeling.
Celestia willed her body to take to the air, but it refused. Every fiber of her being told her that the world would be better off without the changeling queen. Even in her final moments, she could do nothing but hurt and destroy. The scar would remain with Celestia as a testament to her greatest failure. The thought infuriated her. Her mind flooded with all sorts of colorful curses to vent her frustration. The changeling queen was dead. This was for the best. She flapped her wings, hooves lifting off the dust.
In her mind’s eye, Celestia watched the changeling eke out the last of her life, alone on the cold floor of her abandoned hive. She wondered if the changelings would miss their queen. In fact, she couldn’t think of a single living thing that would. That thought made her hesitate, a cold hand gripping at her stomach. She drew her wings back to her side. With her breathing growing more rapid by the second, the pony didn’t think. Her mind still hurled excuse after excuse, telling her to leave. Telling her to give Chrysalis the death she’d wanted.
She had stopped listening.
Instead, her hooves moved on their own. She faced the darkness of the throne, taking a soft step forward. Celestia lowered herself to the icy rock. She could still feel blood seeping from her side, sinking through cracks across the floor. With a graceful turn of her mane, the princess rested her head against the changeling queen, feeling the slick filth of her ravaged mane against pristine fur. A gentle white wing drew over the cold chitin. Celestia shifted herself as close as she could get to the dying changeling and closed her eyes. The sudden exhaustion worried her, but her thoughts were already occupied with a single, repeating line:
There would be at least one who would mourn for the queen.
“Nothing yet, Princess.” The two guards had fallen behind, searching for anything the frazzled lavender alicorn may have missed in her haste. “I’m sure she’s here somewhere.”
To call the princess panicked would be a gross understatement. “Panic” would have been appropriate when she woke to find the moon still high in the sky. After Luna’s missive, that changed. As Twilight read the parchment, still dripping with fresh ink, her panic had evolved. What these two guards watched as they combed the blank canvas could only be hysteria.
“I mean, what if she got lost out here? This desert is huge. Would we ever be able to find her? What if she hurt her wing and can’t fly? What if she’s in danger and needs to be saved? Will we be able to find her in time? What if we don’t find her in time?” The gold-clad guards knew better than to doubt their patron, but that didn’t stop them from exchanging worried glances. They needed to find Celestia, for both princesses’ sakes. “I mean, what was she even doing out here?”
As if the fates themselves had answered her question, the changeling hive rose into view on the horizon. The only landmark for miles. Twilight reared to a stop, instinctively digging her hooves into the air to slow herself. The guards hovered to their charge’s side.
“A changeling hive out here?”
“Why didn’t we know about this?”
“Princess, you should let us-“
The guard’s conversation ended abruptly as the princess rocketed off at speeds fast enough to make Rainbow Dash jealous. The pegasi shook off their shock and followed.
A collapsed section of the mountain provided her entry into the hive. If Celestia had been here, it would likely have been the path she’d chosen, Twilight figured. The gap led directly into a room she recognized as the throne room. She’d been in too many of them to forget. She’d never seen any in such bad shape, though. The silence broke as her guards descended beside her.
“Princess Twilight, you shouldn’t run off like that. It could’ve been dangerous, you should have let us go first,” The guard explained through his unsuccessful attempts to catch his breath. Twilight didn’t hear a single word of it. She’d started to shake. Had she thought to eat breakfast this morning, she probably would’ve emptied it onto the stone tile under her hooves. By now, the guards had noticed it too, and were just as speechless as their princess.
Beside the throne, half shrouded in the darkness of the hive, Princess Celestia rested in a pool of her own blood, dripping from a deep wound on her flank. Her head and wing were braced against the changeling queen. Neither of them stirred. Twilight’s breath caught in her throat. She told herself to tear her gaze from the horrifying sight that she’d seen so many times in her nightmares, but her body wouldn’t move. Tears started to gather in her eyes, but she couldn’t even bring herself to cry.
Snapping from his stupor, the guard turned to his fellow. “Fly back as quickly as you can. Bring two chariots and a complement of guards for each.”
“Two?” The second guard blinked a few times, making sure his eyes hadn’t betrayed him.
“Yes. And chains.” The senior responded, turning his gaze back to the changeling queen. A quick nod and the guard vanished, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.
“Is . . . is she?” Twilight couldn’t bear to finish her thought.
“I think she’s still breathing. Princess Twilight?”
The alicorn couldn’t hear him. Her resolve had finally broken, leaving her a sobbing mess. With a wail of pain only an orphaned filly could manage, Twilight threw herself down beside her mentor, her tears soaking into her white fur.
Changelings didn’t believe in the afterlife. They existed only to serve the hive and their queen. Nothing after that mattered. With her time at an end, though, Chrysalis started to wonder. Every culture she’d ever infiltrated had its own beliefs. Ponies tended to believe the afterlife would be paradise. A reward for a life well lived. Yaks believed death felt like an eternal dreamless sleep. A reprieve from the hardships of life.
For Chrysalis, though, death felt like a soft bed. A chill settling beneath her shell prompted the changeling to dive deeper beneath her covers. An eternity of comfort hardly seemed to warrant the great reverence mortality commanded.
This doesn’t seem so bad, her mind reasoned. Surely there were worse ways to spend eternity.
Settling in for the long haul, Chrysalis relaxed, spreading to cover as much of the bed as she could manage. That plan hit a snag when a red-hot spike of pain jolted through her leg and up her flank. The suddenness forced the changeling to gasp as she jumped from the bed, only to be pulled back with the rattle of chains. Each of her legs had been shackled to the bed rails. Sneaking a peek under her covers, Chrysalis located the source of her pain. One of her hindlegs had been stripped of chitin. Her soft flesh had not been exempted from detainment. A fresh wound bubbled blood from beneath the metal cuff.
That didn’t seem right. The dead shouldn’t feel pain. They probably shouldn’t be shackled to a bed, either. Two opposing ideas settled between the changeling’s ears. Either every possible interpretation of the afterlife had been false, or she hadn’t actually died. Despite knowing the right answer, a small sliver of her mind hoped to be proven wrong.
As the shock of her survival waned, Chrysalis studied her surroundings, trying to piece together the series of events that led here. Memories swirled, stained by starvation and a spark of madness. Something about ducks? Similar to the waterfowl themselves, her thoughts were easily scattered, fuzzy, and incredibly difficult to catch. Also, like that particular flock of ducks, it infuriated the changeling queen. Ducks. Of all things. What had they even been doing in her hive?
Her hive. Something clicked. Chrysalis had been in her hive, specifically the throne room. It had been destroyed when she arrived, forcing her to craft a new throne from the existing stone. Not her finest craftsmanship, but enough to be comfortable. Then the princess showed up. She scoffed at the recollection of the solar goddess. Suddenly, her survival made more sense. With the “how” answered, she moved on to “where”.
Past her bedside table, a collection of machines buzzed with a staccato whine quiet enough to be drowned out by silence. Despite the lack of wires attached to her, the machines had no trouble monitoring her vitals. If she’d been a betting mare, she’d have wagered magic. While magic flowed freely through nature, harnessing it required finesse that not many could achieve. Above, the ceiling consisted of long white panels, easily removed and replaced to access the space beyond. The only break in the monotony came from the glass lights and large vents. General features of a public building. The only light in the room came from below, where the moonlight reflected across the white tile, casting a cool lunar aura through the air. Though the muted soundtrack of nature hinted at civilization, the apparent openness of the room didn’t feel like the oppressive dungeon cells she’d been in before. A realization that only made her restraints the more confusing. A soft white curtain surrounded her bed, blocking out any observations of the larger room around her.
A rather advanced civilization, capable of producing machines powered with magic. Along with the presence of the princess prior to her loss of consciousness, all signs pointed to the ponies. If it were the ponies, though, she should’ve been sealed in the deepest pits of Tartarus, not confined to a soft bed. And even then, the theory didn’t account for the “why”. Her first impressions of Princess Celestia hadn’t heralded genius, but she knew the princess wasn’t stupid. Not stupid enough to save the life of her mortal enemy, at least. Her introspection ended without conclusion; too many missing pieces rendered the puzzled unrecognizable.
Death or capture, she thought with a bored sniffle. Then again, maybe this is just what death feels like?
Since waking, Chrysalis found herself counting the small holes in the ceiling. Usually, the count would reach upwards of three hundred before the pain in her leg or itch on her muzzle would distract her. Restrained to such a small range of motion, even simple tasks like scratching became impossible. As she passed the four hundred mark, the sound of an opening door spelled the end of her sixth attempt.
“Any change, Doctor?” A young mare asked. The somber silence seemed to answer the question better than any words could. The sound of hoofsteps grew closer. A nervous flutter of wings. To her eternal dismay, Chrysalis knew that voice, though she struggled to place it.
“I apologize, Princess. We’ve never seen anything like this. We’re doing the best we can, but she isn’t responding well to any of our treatments.” An older mare finally answered.
“Has Twilight been to visit?” The first voice asked. Her voice was low. The sound of a curtain being pulled back felt far too loud in the uneasy silence.
“She did. I had to send her away. She might be an alicorn now, but she doesn’t have quite the same tenacity as you and your sister. She was exhausted; I had her royal attendants carry her home.” A somber chuckle punctuated his sentence.
“A wise decision. What about the other one?” The overt malice told Chrysalis just who she spoke of.
“Not much better, I’m afraid. She still hasn’t woken up.”
“But she will?”
Hesitation. “I’m not really sure, Princess. We’ve been treating her as we would any regular pony, aside from the feeding situation. Changeling care isn’t really something we’re taught here in Equestria.” The sound of quill scratching against paper.
“This is a difficult time, Doctor Heart. I trust you. If anyone can fix this, it’s you.”
“That’s kind of you, Princess. I will do my best. I’ll let you know as soon as there’s any change. You should get some rest, too. The sun will be up soon.”
“I know.” The distraught mare sighed. “I hope I still remember how to raise it.” Their conversation ended with the door opening and closing once again. Chrysalis could hear hooves tapping against the tile. Slowly, the curtain locking her away drew back, revealing a small blue unicorn in a white lab coat. Enraptured in his clipboard, the doctor didn’t even notice Chrysalis watching him. He stepped forward to the side of the bed, checking the monitors and recording their data.
With a stealthy breath, Chrysalis leaned forward, gracing the pony with the most sadistic smile she could manage. The chains stopped her mere inches from the stallion’s face. At the sound of their jingle, he finally looked up, into the fanged grin of the changeling queen.
In her prime, back when she considered herself a threat to all ponykind, Chrysalis could send full grown stallions and mares screaming into the night with only a simple glance. The bored expression staring back told her she had long since passed her prime.
“What’s the matter? Too scared to scream? Too terrified to run? Rendered speechless by the pinnacle of grace and power that stands before you?” Chrysalis taunted. He scratched a note into a box on the top page without taking his eyes off the changeling. Neither of them moved for a few brief moments.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” He said flatly.
“You couldn’t even pretend to be afraid, could you?” Chrysalis pouted. Had she been able to, she would’ve crossed her arms like a spoiled filly.
“Sorry. It’s been a long day,” He explained, unapologetically. “How are you feeling?”
“Take these chains off. I’ll show you how I feel.” She growled.
He nodded, quill jotting with a mind of its own. “Any pain or discomfort?”
Chrysalis could feel her shoulders slump. She didn’t need her magic to read the complete lack of emotion he felt. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Well, this annoying little pony keeps asking me all these unnecessary questions. It must be some sort of game. Or maybe he thinks that I’m less capable than a child and need to be coddled. Do you have any suggestions to help with that?” Chrysalis turned away from him indignantly.
“I sure do.” He said. He hooked his patient’s file on the small plastic case at the end of the bed before turning to leave. A faint blue magic turned the handle of the door and pulled it open with a flourish. The bright fluorescent light pouring in from the hallway startled Chrysalis.
“Wait,” She cried, far more desperate than she’d intended. She spent a moment to calm before she continued. “There may be a small matter you could aid me with. Should you wish me to remain ignorant of your offenses.” Without a word, he turned for the door again.
“I told you to wait,” Chrysalis commanded.
“Are you ready to listen?” The doctor stood halfway into the hall already. Behind him, Chrysalis could see the nurses watching the exchange with tense anxiety. Without her horn, her senses had dulled dramatically, but she could feel the fear radiating from the mares. His expression didn’t move.
Chrysalis stammered for a moment, flabbergasted by her complete lack of control. “Fine.” She decided.
Oblivious to her frustration, Doctor Heart let the door fall shut. He retrieved her file and returned to her bedside. “Now, would you like to tell me what’s bothering you?” He said, calm as ever.
The changeling hated this stallion. Quite possibly more than she hated every princess combined. He should’ve been smug at his victory, afraid for his life. Instead, he wore the same expression as the wooden chair tucked away into the corner. She didn’t answer in words, instead pointing to the foot of her bed, convinced that if she didn’t speak, she wouldn’t admit defeat.
Following her lead, he meandered around to the other side of the bed and pulled back the sheets. While the heavy wool comforter remained clean as ever, the sheet beneath it had been marred with a red stain. Lifting the blanket, he inspected her injured leg. Though the flow stopped every few minutes, the injured limb chafed against its bonds, reopening the tissue.
“I told them not to be too tight with this one.” The doctor shook his head, his neatly styled mane remaining perfectly still. “Give me a minute. I’ll take care of this.” He retrieved a small kit of supplies from one of the cabinets beside the bed. The case’s only defining trait, a dirty sticker of a red cross. He pulled up a stool and table for his supplies. Using a myriad of tools, he unraveled and sterilized a length of cloth. Wielding the skill of a trained surgeon, he slipped the bandage on under the metal cuff.
While he worked, Chrysalis found herself studying the newly revealed room. It had been larger than she’d imagined. Darker, too. The lights had been left off, leaving the only source of illumination, the moon and stars visible through the large glass window to her left. A few chairs and tables were in the room for family visitations. Two doors on the far wall, she guessed, were a supply closet and bathroom. The main door to the room looked to be simple wood, fitted with a glass pane that somehow seemed to block the light from outside without obscuring vision.
To her right, Chrysalis could see another bed. Even in her current state, Celestia’s mane moved looked flawless. Her coat had been cleaned of dirt and sand that had stuck to her during their encounter back at the hive. She’d been buried beneath a small mountain of bedsheets. The pained expression that marred the princess’s perfect slumber brought less pleasure to the changeling that she would’ve expected.
“Princess Luna decided you should both be kept a secret. Less of a chance of being discovered if the two of you are together,” The doctor answered the unasked question. “A few of the nurses know. As far as I’ve been told, I’m the only doctor allowed in.” He finished wrapping the injury, pulling the bandage taut with a gentle pull of his teeth. The soft white material served the double purpose of stopping the bleeding and cushioning the cold metal.
“Why?” Chrysalis asked, letting her façade drop.
“Why what?” The doctor pulled a second slip of paper from his clipboard and scribbled a report on his work.
She thought of enough questions to fill a small textbook. Her mind settled on one of the first. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
For the first time since he’d entered the room, the stallion’s face shifted. An odd mix of bewilderment and concern. “When you got here, Princess Luna threatened to flay you with moonlight.” Chrysalis blinked vacantly. “When I stepped between the two of you, I thought she’d teach me right there and then what that meant. There are few things in this world scarier than an angry Luna.”
“You’re more scared of her than me? I led a hostile takeover of Canterlot. I defeated your precious princesses twice.” She could neither believe the doctor’s words nor her own. “And she scares you worse?”
“Yup.” His response stung.
“And I assume that the mare in here earlier was her?” Chrysalis asked. That would be a conversation to look forward to. “I heard you tell her you’d send word when I was awake. I doubt she’s even left the hospital yet.”
“I doubt it. She probably got lost on her way to reception again.” He chuckled.
“So why haven’t you told her. I’m sure she’s as eager to punish me as I am to get it over with.” Chrysalis settled her head back against her pillow, eyes wandering over the hundreds of little holes.
“Because you need to rest. And if experience has taught me anything, angry alicorns make it difficult to rest.”
“Why?” The queen felt like a child, incessantly mewling out that question to anyone in earshot.
“Yelling. Occasional smiting with celestial fury, but mostly yelling.” He smiled.
“No, I mean why are you doing this?”
“Doing what? I’m your doctor. It’s my job.”
“To heal a monster that’s trying to kill you?”
“You won’t kill me.” Chrysalis’ reaction prompted him onward. “I mean, you can’t kill me. For now, anyways. Pony. Griffin. Changeling. I tried to take care of a dragon once.” Though his face remained serious, he had to be joking. “That fire breath is pretty hot. Regardless, I made an oath. You don’t like me. And if I’m being completely honest, I’m not the biggest fan of you either. Still, that’s not an excuse to shirk my duties.”
Chrysalis could feel her ego flinch and a begrudging respect bud in her chest.
“So, you’ve gotten to ask a few questions. I think it’s my turn now.” He said, resting his haunches on his rolling stool. “You know where you are?”
“A hospital?” She wagered.
“Canterlot Royal Hospital, to be exact. Arrived here by chariot a few days ago. Been out like a light ever since.”
“A few days?”
“Three. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Sitting in my hive. Celestia had just walked in.” She couldn’t believe how easily the words flowed from her mouth. “I don’t remember why she was there, though. I was . . . occupied.” Bile rose in her throat. Had the fearsome changeling queen fallen so far as to be conversing so casually with a simple pony?
“You were dying.” He said coldly. “Starvation and blood loss. Was a bit touch-and-go for a while, at first.”
“And Celestia rescued me, I guess?” She rolled her eyes. He looked around the room, as if the words he searched for could be found scribbled on the wall.
“Princess Twilight rescued you,” He finally admitted.
“Twilight?” He nodded. “That might be even worse. Although, I must admit I don’t remember Twilight being there.”
The doctor looked away. “She found both of you in the hive. You don’t remember?” Chrysalis shook her head. “Do you remember what did this to you?” Chrysalis noticed the abrupt change but felt no desire to comment. Somehow, she didn’t want to know.
“Dealing with the pests that had made themselves at home in my hive.”
“Must’ve been a fierce fight.”
“It was.”
“And I’m guessing not too recent.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Infection had set in by the time you got here. If you were a pony, I’d be afraid you’d never walk again, but you’ve shown a surprising resilience so far.”
“My changelings are sturdy creatures.” Chrysalis felt a twinge of pride. The two of them allowed silence to settle back into the room, if only briefly. For a moment, Chrysalis wondered if she’d said something wrong. Ridiculous. She didn’t say things wrong. She’d never said anything wrong. Why should she feel guilty about hurting this pony? She would probably kill him anyways. Assuming she lived long enough to recover.
“I should let you get some rest.” He said, pulling himself up from his seat to the sound of creaking bones. “By the way. You should probably expect visitors tomorrow.”
“Visitor? Me?” Chrysalis laughed. “Maybe you really don’t know who I am.”
Without another word, the doctor moved into the hallway, closing the door gently behind him. His magic faded as he left.
Alone again, Chrysalis returned to her favorite pastime. She made it as far as six before her thoughts shook themselves loose. She’d enjoyed the distraction he’d offered. To a changeling, conversations were simple tests. They didn’t talk among their own kind; the hivemind made that unnecessary. Instead, the only time they ever talked was during infiltration. They used their honeyed words to throw suspicion. Chrysalis could talk circles around nobles and discuss dirt with farmers. She’d done it all, each time with a foalish glee. Nothing satisfied her more than a successful infiltration.
Tonight, in her hospital room, the changeling had not been in disguise. Without her horn, she wasn’t even sure she could transform. Regardless, she had fun. Part of her wished he would return to continue their talk. A different part thought he deserved to die for making her desire such things.
Chrysalis allowed her eyes to drift close. Recently, sleep has been difficult. In the old days, she would converse with her changelings while she slept, exchanging memories in the form of dreams. It had been too long since she dreamed. When the first few pink clouds signaled the arrival of dawn, she finally settled into a restless slumber.
Doctor Heart hadn’t been joking yesterday. Alicorns had a powerful set of lungs. From the moment she’d stepped into the building, Chrysalis could hear her voice, shaking the building as she cursed and threatened all the way up to the hospital room. Perhaps his generosity the previous night hadn’t only been for the changeling’s health.
The door glowed with an ethereal light before swinging open hard enough to leave a handle-shaped hole in the wall. The umbral princess marched in, wings flared. Twilight followed her like a shadow. The moment Luna had crossed the threshold, the lights began to flicker. The blinds snapped shut, leaving the only source of light the glowing horn atop the princess’s head. It shone against her mane like the moon amidst a sea of stars.
Before Chrysalis could protest, the magic took hold of her restraints. With a tilt of her head, Luna pulled the chains as tight as possible, immobilizing the queen. She bit her tongue, unwilling to give the princess the pleasure of hearing her scream as the cuff constricted around her wounded leg.
“Speak your defense, Creature.” The room shook at Luna’s command. When she received no response, she pulled the chains tighter, cracking the changeling’s hardened carapace. Chrysalis grit her teeth, unwilling to turn away from the princess.
“Luna, I think you’re hurting her.” Twilight took a half-step forward but didn’t intervene.
“Good.” Luna growled. The hesitant alicorn swore she saw one of the stars in Luna’s mane vanish into the inky void.
“What is the meaning of this?” Doctor Heart appeared in the doorway, the clipboard in his magic flailing wildly.
“Doctor, I’m ordering this thing to be taken to the Canterlot dungeon, where she will remain until her trial.”
“I can’t let you do that, Princess.” Heart stamped a hoof defiantly as he took his place between the angry goddess and his patient. “My patient is still recovering. I have not given permission for her to leave this hospital.” Chrysalis couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the fear wavering in his voice.
“Stand aside, Doctor. I would hate for you to have to join her.”
“Princess Luna, that’s enough.” Twilight’s words carried authority that her tone couldn’t match.
“You would let her get away with such a thing? Look at her here, lounging in a nice soft bed while Celestia . . .”
“I know you’re frustrated, Princess. Believe me, I understand. But that doesn’t mean I intend on letting you torture my patients.”
With that, Luna released her spell, flooding the room with light once again. Chrysalis didn’t relax, though. That little stunt had stripped a decent stretch of flesh from her already hurting wound. The red stain had already leaked through the two lowest sheets and into the cushion below. Though the relatively tiny doctor had struck a nerve, Luna didn’t shift her focus from her target.
“It’s a pleasure to see you as well, Luna.” Chrysalis flashed a wicked smile.
“Tell me what you know, Changeling. I can make your day far worse,” Luna exclaimed, flaring her nostrils.
“Fine, I shall tell you,” Chrysalis began. Twilight braced herself. She didn’t know what the queen planned to say, only that her words were about to make the situation much worse. “I did really like you better as Nightmare Moon. The style and grace were simply divine.” She cackled.
To her credit, Luna showed decent restraint. “Tell me what you’ve done to my sister or prepare to spend the next millennium as a statue.”
“My dear Luna, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” While the words dripped with sarcasm, they weren’t a lie. Chrysalis turned to the bedridden princess. “What could I have possibly done while chained like this? Go ahead and ask your Doctor.
“You lying little . . .” Luna released a frustrated groan. “Tell me how to fix her. Now.” The royal voice had returned, much to the dismay of every patient in the building.
“Luna . . . ” Twilight started.
“Tell me.” Luna stepped forward, losing patience.
“Luna, what if she’s telling the truth?” Twilight raised a hoof toward the princess.
Every pony in the room turned toward her, even Chrysalis. Luna was the first to speak. “You believe her?”
Twilight turned toward Celestia, worry etched in every line of her face. “No. I mean, if I thought she knew the truth, she’d definitely lie to us. I’m saying what if she doesn’t remember?” She motioned to the doctor. Luna turned toward him as well.
“I suppose it would be possible.” Doctor Heart scratched the back of his head. “When Twilight brought them both here, Chrysalis was in bad shape. Starved and dying. It’s entirely possible she can’t recall what she did.”
“Are you defending her?” Luna snapped.
“Are you defending me?” Chrysalis echoed.
“All I’m saying . . . ” he took a step back from the angry ponies. “Is that it’s possible she doesn’t remember.”
“Regardless.” Luna returned to glaring at the changeling. “I am ordering that she be moved to the dungeon. The warden will know how to get the information from her.” A chill fills the room at her words.
“Absolutely not.” The doctor regained his defensive stance.
“They would be gentle, Doctor.” Luna’s threat felt eerily gentle.
The doctor sighed, stepping aside. When Luna tried to step past him, he addressed Twilight. “Princess, what is your verdict?”
“My verdict?” She asked, looking between the two.
“Princess Luna believes Chrysalis should be persuaded to give information. Given Princess Cadence’s past with the patient, I would place her firmly in the same camp. So, what about you, Princess Twilight? Should she be taken from her bed?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“I have no intention of stopping a unanimous decision from the Princesses. If you were to disagree, though, that would be different.” All eyes fell on the alicorn. The doctor looked sorrowful, Luna upset, and Chrysalis surprised more than anything else. Twilight found herself retreating from their gazes.
“I . . . I don’t know.” Twilight finally admitted. The answer surprised no one. Despite that, the tension in the room shattered. Luna watched the windows, as if studying the cloudy streaks across the glass.
“I know that isn’t what you want to hear . . .” Twilight fumbled her speech. She tried to start a few more times and made no progress through her thoughts.
“I see.” Luna interrupted the flailing princess. “If Twilight cannot come to a decision, then that is that.”
“Princess Luna . . .” Twilight started.
Doctor Heart quieted the alicorn with a hoof on her shoulder. “Princess Luna, if she can’t decide, then I think we should postpone the judgement.”
Twilight and Chrysalis both expected Luna to be angry, but she wasn’t. Rather, she seemed somber.
“I’m sorry, Princess. I just thought . . . “ Luna silenced the other princess with a wave of her hoof. Without another word, she walked to the door and out into the hallway. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”
“You made the decision you thought was right. There is no shame in that, Princess.” The doctor smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, I respect you for it. It can be difficult to go against your friends. Especially if your friends are important, like the princesses.”
“Thanks Doctor, but that doesn’t really make me feel any better.”
“I know, Princess. Now, I’d best go attend Princess Luna. I’d hate for her to get lost again.” He added with a chuckle. “Please, Princess Twilight, feel free to stay as long as you’d like. I’ll be back later.”
Twilight nodded as the doctor left, letting the door close behind him. She used her magic to flip the light switch, leaving the room doused in sunlight. With a somber slowness, she moved to her mentor’s side, pressing her muzzle against Celestia’s neck. The flowing mane above her head brushed against the mare’s horn.
“Twilight?” Chrysalis started, not daring to face the alicorn. Her only reply was the curt drawing of the white curtain between the two beds. She couldn’t work up the nerve to say anything else. Instead, the changeling queen preferred to focus on various points of interest around the room. While her gaze struggled to focus on anything other than the lavender alicorn, her mind held no such qualms. An image appeared in her thoughts, portraying Twilight, pressed close to her princess, crying softly into her fur. Chrysalis’ chest tightened.
Then her vision shifted. Though she simply sat and watched a small mite of dust float through the air, her thoughts lay miles away, back in her hive. One of her personal chambers, to be precise. Despite the name, drones flew back and forth above, crawling through small passages cut in the rock. The echo of swarming wings brought a sense of ease to her, as fake as it was.
She recognized her old room. A large bed tucked away in one corner. A table with a few chairs gathered haphazardly around it. The far wall held nothing but shelves, lined with tomes of varying size and shape. Changelings rarely found interest in reading, preferring to use the stories as training for their infiltration. Even with all her furniture, though, Chrysalis rested firmly on the floor, her legs stretched out in every direction. A soft red rug cushioned the dense stone. She’d been trying to sleep. Her eyes felt heavy, and she often had to shake herself awake during particularly heavy drowsy spells.
A small nudge against her chest drew her attention downward. A small nymph slept beneath her; its tender flesh encased in a warm blanket, snoring quietly. Occasionally, his breath would catch, causing him to fidget in his sleep. She could feel him shivering against her icy chitin. Every so often, she would lean over, watching his face. His eyes hadn’t opened in over a week. When night arrived, she would drape herself over him, trying in vain to shield him from the cold gale that roamed the wasteland nights.
A quiet sob teased Chrysalis back into the hospital room. She pressed her cheek into the pillow, wiping the lone tear from her eye. On the other side of the curtain, Twilight started to cry. Her bitter sobs tainted the room, but that wasn’t what pained Chrysalis. She could see the scene playing out just beyond her sight: A foal’s instinct, pressed tightly to their mother in some desperate attempt to escape their pain. Perhaps she should’ve taken Luna’s offer. A cruel voice in her subconscious told her it would’ve been less painful.
Chrysalis never needed to express her sorrow or her pain. The hive had once known her feelings as well as they’d known their own. In fact, the two were often aligned. Outward shows of emotion could cripple a negotiation, ruin a stealthy operation. There would never be any reason to expose a weakness to a potential enemy. Instead, she waited for the night, when Twilight’s sleeping form had to be carried away by her guards.
There, alone in her room and even more alone in her head, Chrysalis would finally learn how it felt to weep.
Back when Equestria had been nothing more to her than a name on a map, Chrysalis had enjoyed watching the sun rise. Every morning, either on her own or through the mind of one of her drones, she’d watch the first few streaks of pink split the night sky. Something about the time appealed to her. The cold shadows of the night had not entirely faded, yet the sun’s rays still carried a nostalgic warmth with them. Perhaps she simply enjoyed the way each morning felt like a new beginning, the day before little more than a memory now.
Now, as she watched dawn approach through the glass of her hospital window, that innocent hope never appeared.
“I’m sorry, Twilight. I can’t help you.” Thorax sat a few feet from the edge of Chrysalis’ bed, close enough for comfort, but still outside her restricted range. The fresh bruise staining his muzzle was evidence enough for that.
“Please, Thorax, there must be something you can tell me. Anything.” Whatever mask Twilight had been hiding beneath, her voice betrayed the inner hostility and helplessness of a scolded filly.
“I’ve never seen magic like this, Twilight.” Thorax shook his head.
“What about the other changelings? Some of them must have been close enough to Chrysalis to have seen this magic,” Twilight pleaded desperately.
“I’ve already tried to contact the other changelings back in the hive. None of them know anything about this either. They’re as lost as we are.” Thorax finally glanced up from his former queen to the princess beside him.
“Then what about books? Some of your books might give me a starting point.”
“We don’t write books, Twilight. Whatever information we need is kept in the hivemind. The only books we have are to help us learn about other cultures so we can blend in. We don’t even use those that often.” Twilight slunk to the floor. Thorax returned his focus to Chrysalis.
“Wait.” Twilight launched herself back up to her hooves, getting uncomfortably close to Thorax. “The hivemind. Can you try to retrieve Chrysalis’ memory of the spell?”
Thorax leaned away from the purple pony. “It’s not that simple, Princess.” With a sour expression, he turned to the bed-ridden changeling.
“Go ahead and tell her. I have nothing to hide at this point.” Chrysalis commanded.
Though it had been months since she ruled the hive, Thorax still maintained the instinctive pull to heed her orders. Princess Twilight gawked at them both, anxious for any new information they might provide. “We can’t see Chrysalis in our hive mind.” He stuttered as he said her name. It sounded wrong to him.
“Because she’s the queen?” Twilight asked, her hopes shattered.
“Because I can’t be part of the hivemind if I’m no longer part of the hive. I’ve been abandoned.” Chrysalis held her head high in unfounded pride.
“We didn’t abandon you.” Thorax whined like a wounded pup. He refused to meet her eyes. “I would never abandon you.”
“And that’s why you’ll never be a true king, Thorax.”
The changeling leaned back in his chair, letting his crown hang low atop his head.
“That’s not fair, Thorax has done a great job leading the new changelings.” Twilight interjected.
A short silence settled across the room before Chrysalis finally asked the question bubbling in her head. “Why are you still here, Thorax? The rest of the hive has left me behind. You should’ve done the same.”
“You could come with us, Chrysalis. Rejoin the hive.”
“Why are you still here, Thorax?”
“It would be just like old times.”
“Why are you still here, Thorax?”
The sudden anger in Chrysalis’ voice caused the others to recoil. Twilight knew deep in her gut that she should stay out of this. She felt the same whenever Celestia and Luna fought, too. Still, it felt even worse to stand idly by while her friend was berated. Thorax searched his mind for an answer he could use. He didn’t want to lie. Several times he tried to speak, but his words fumbled and died as they crossed his lips.
“Why are you still here, Thorax?” There was no rage this time, no animosity. Instead, Twilight thought she heard remorse in the Queen’s voice. Like a mother forced to scold her teary-eyed child.
“I don’t want you to die.” Thorax finally choked out.
“We both know the rules.”
“The rules are stupid.”
“They’ll keep you alive.”
“We don’t need to live like that anymore.”
“You don’t need to.”
“We can teach you.”
“Thorax, please?” Chrysalis begged. Her eyes filled with the sorrow of a long life. “Consider it my last order.”
“You’re not the queen anymore.” He hated the words, even if he had to say them. “You don’t get to order me around.”
Chrysalis didn’t argue. Instead, she let herself rest against her freshly fluffed pillow. She closed her eyes. Likewise, Thorax let himself fall back in his seat, defeated. Twilight bit her tongue until she could taste a metallic tang. Beneath their spoken words lay an entire conversation, though Twilight didn’t know where to start. Perhaps she could talk to Thorax later, ask him what had happened. For now, though, Twilight had come no closer to finding a cure for Celestia. Thorax had hardly been her first solution, but it dealt a hefty blow to her efforts, nonetheless.
“You should go get some rest. Luna told me she’d set aside a room for you in the castle.” Twilight put a hoof on Thorax’s shoulder. It had been four hours since their discussion. Neither changeling had spoken since.
“Huh?” Thorax blinked; his train of thought derailed.
“It’s been a long day. You should rest.” She repeated. The irony of the statement would go unnoticed by every occupant in the room.
“You’re right.” He didn’t sound like he believed it, but he rose from his chair regardless. “Luna told us about that. Pharynx has been waiting up there all day, probably.” He gave an unconvincing chuckle.
“You guys have a way to feed, right?”
“Don’t worry, Princess, we can take care of ourselves.” He turned to Chrysalis. She turned as far as she could to avoid his gaze. “I’ll be back tomorrow to feed you again.”
“You don’t need to be here daily.” Chrysalis muttered.
“I didn’t think so either. Then Doctor Heart told me about your leg. It’ll never heal if you don’t have the energy for it. Besides, I’ve got plenty of love to spare. I hope you know that.”
Chrysalis didn’t answer, but the silence said plenty.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, Twilight. Will you be leaving too?” Thorax asked.
“I think I’ll stay a little longer.” Twilight smiled.
“Right. Well, if you want to talk about anything, I’ll be just down the hall from you. I might not be able to help you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try.” With a nod to her and a longing look to Chrysalis, he left.
Twilight flipped the switch on the wall, plunging the room into darkness. The sun had already started to sink beneath the horizon, casting an orange glow across the scene. She moved to Celestia’s side, pulling a chair up behind her. While seated, she lay her head across the alicorn’s white fur.
“Don’t you think you were a little hard on him?” Twilight’s head didn’t move as she spoke.
“I think he’s being too lenient.” Chrysalis answered, equally as disinterested in focusing on the alicorn. To the unknowing eye, they both would’ve appeared to have been asleep.
“He really does care about you, you know?”
“That’s why I’m disappointed.”
“Seems cruel to me.”
Chrysalis snorted. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. It’s a changeling thing.”
“Really? I haven’t seen any changelings abandoning one another in the streets. You sure this isn’t just a ‘Chrysalis’ thing?” Twilight didn’t bother to hide the venom creeping into her voice.
Chrysalis stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating her next statement carefully. “How does it feel, Twilight, to watch Celestia die? To sit there and know that there’s a chance she might never wake up. This person who’s been such a massive influence on your life and who you love like family might be dead within the next few weeks?”
Twilight didn’t answer. Chrysalis hadn’t expected one. “I’d wager it hurts. An unbearable agony deep in your soul. A wound that time will never fully restore. You wonder if there’s anything that can be done to save them. You’d trade anything for just a little more time with them.”
“Stop it, Chrysalis. I don’t want to hear this.” Chrysalis didn’t hear her.
“Let me tell you a story.”
“I said stop, Chrysalis.”
“Centuries ago, a hatching was born into the hive. It’s chitin never grew properly. He couldn’t supply enough love to feed and heal himself in the hive. Any attempts to leave and try his hoof at infiltration would’ve seen him torn to pieces beneath the sandstorms of the badlands. He had to be cared for every single day of his life.
“The next year rolled around, and with it, a new generation of drones would hatch. Too many. We didn’t have the resources to feed them all. I decided that what little we had would be rationed. They’d be given just enough to live. Several of the older drones volunteered their shares, but it still wouldn’t be enough. We couldn’t spare enough for the weak.
“It took three days for him to lose his struggle. The hive didn’t object. The drone himself didn’t object. In his final moments, he couldn’t have been happier. He would die a hero of the swarm. I felt him draw his last breath, cradled to my chest. The hive honored his sacrifice, but his name would be lost to the ages. I might be the only one who remembers him now.
“He is but one in the sea of faces that haunt me when I close my eyes. The mother that couldn’t save them. The hive would survive, though. That became the first rule of the Changelings. Those who couldn’t provide for the hive would be left behind. Thorax disregards that lesson, and in doing so, endangers his hive. That is why he will not survive as king.”
“Chrysalis, how could you –”
“I am a monster, Twilight Sparkle.”
Finally roused from her embrace, Twilight could only watch as the first rays of moonlight shimmered against the black shell of the changeling queen. Her eyes were locked far beyond the horizon, watching far into the past. The lavender alicorn swallowed the bile in her throat. She recognized the look on Chrysalis’ face. She’d seen Celestia use the same stoic mask to hide.
“Thorax found another way.” Twilight shook.
“For now. There will come a day when the love they provide one another won’t be enough. From there, his decisions will shape the new hive. They will attempt to return to the way of life I trained him for, and they will likely still die. Or, they will beg the ponies to save them, and spend the rest of history as pets to you and your princesses. Such are the choices of leaders, Twilight. I thought Celestia would’ve taught you that.”
“You don’t know anything about Celestia. She would never sacrifice her subjects or her friends. She’d find another way.”
“She already has, Twilight. Her sister for her subjects. Ask Luna, if you really don’t know what I’m talking about.” Twilight didn’t need to ask. “And what about you, Twilight. Will you be able to make that same choice, in her shoes?”
“I told you, I’d find another way.”
“What about to save Celestia. Here and now. Would you sacrifice a pony you’ve never met to save your mentor? You could spin it however you like. You could tell yourself you only chose the way you did for the good of Equestria. Maybe you secretly like the way control feels. Doesn’t matter.”
“I’m nothing like you, Chrysalis.” Twilight bit her tongue.
“You keep repeating that. Maybe one day it’ll be true.”
“That’s enough.” Twilight returned to her mentor’s side.
A bitter jealousy crept into her heart at how quickly the changeling had been able to nod off. When the guard came to retrieve the princess, she hadn’t been sleeping. Even once they’d escorted her to her chambers, where she cowered beneath heavy wool sheets, sleep refused to overtake the alicorn. Her mind constantly shifted to the room around her. Her symbol, painted on the wall, a mocking sign of her immense magical prowess. Experiments meant to heal the princess lay scattered across a multitude of desks and tables, all catastrophic failures. The tomes sat on the shelves, ignorant of any critical knowledge.
Like sharks amidst a bloody wreck, Chrysalis’ words circled through Twilight’s head. She would never sacrifice a pony for her princess. She felt reasonably sure of that. Still, the question made her think. She’d just about run out of leads and Celestia only grew worse with each passing day. What would she give to save her? What cost could she live with? As dawn broke, Twilight had an idea. A terrible idea, but an idea, nonetheless.
Much to the surprise of her personal guard, Twilight left her quarters early. The princess moved with a fierce determination, forcing them to trot quickly to keep up with her. Down a rather regal flight of stairs. Past the kitchens and the enticing scent of a warm breakfast. Between the confused soldiers standing at attention outside the royal court.
With a flash of magic, Twilight forced the doors open. The sudden noise nearly knocked Luna from the throne at the other end of the marble hallway. The mare’s march continued past portraits, depicting her and her friends’ adventures through shards of stained glass. Memories of each disaster sought to direct Twilight from her path, but she wouldn’t stop.
“Twilight. I hadn’t expected you to be up so early. Did you need a sounding board for a new hypothesis? More supplies for a new experiment?” Luna asked, a little intimidated by the sheer willpower of her sister’s student.
“Luna, I need you to do something for me.” Twilight’s hooves stopped at the base of the stairs leading to the throne. Even with the red carpet, she could feel the cold stone underneath.
“Of course, Twilight.” Luna leaned in closer, eager.
As she spoke, Chrysalis’ words echoed through her mind. She would never sacrifice another pony, but she couldn’t deny the kernel of truth hidden within the lesson. There was no doubt this would be dangerous, but maybe that would be the cost.
“Luna.” Twilight drew a deep breath. “I want you to release Chrysalis.”
Luna led her procession through the hospital hallways. Twilight stayed close to her side, ignoring the nervous glances from the ponies around them as they brushed past. Doctor Heart seemed to be struggling to keep up with their rapid pace. A complement of a half-dozen guards brought up the rear, a blend of celestial unicorns and lunar pegasi. Nurses and doctors alike cleared the path for the princesses as they moved purposely toward a room at the end of the hall.
The door opened with a flick of Luna’s horn. Half of the guards took up positions outside the door at their princess’ insistence. The six of them shuffled silently into the room. Chrysalis didn’t spare a glance toward the new arrivals. More than likely, they’d be here to check on Celestia. Even Chrysalis had noticed the decline by now. The alicorn’s vitals grew weaker by the day. Just this morning, small black veins had started to spread across her fur, originating from the festering cut across her side. The changeling finally took notice when a dark purple aura enveloped her.
With a solemn silence, Luna poured her magic into the metal restraints, freeing them from their spell with a flash of color. She turned to Doctor Heart. He stepped forward, cyan light spilling from one of his coat pockets. A small silver key levitated into the air. As soon as she heard the click of the lock, Chrysalis pulled her hoof free from the cuff with a violent jerk. The unicorn guards readied their spells, but the doctor waved them off.
Chrysalis pulled her arm close to her chest, her muscles aching at the now foreign movement. The tight metal had left a set of marks gouged into her shell. Doctor Heart moved from around the bed, releasing each leg with an agonizing slowness. He saved the injured leg for last. With a combined warning and apology to his patient, he turned the limb slightly, revealing the keyhole on the bracelet. Chrysalis hit down hard on her tongue. A paper-thin layer of chitin had reformed across her skin, but it had yet to harden. Even the slightest pressure would send her back to square one. With her injured leg free, Chrysalis rested it gently against the soft cushioning.
Doctor Heart disappeared for a moment, digging into the bottom shelf of a nearby cabinet. He returned a moment later, a surgical brace hovering behind him. After making sure he had Chrysalis’ attention, he explained that her bones had started to heal, but even the slightest misstep would shatter them in all new ways. If she wasn’t careful, it was likely she’d never walk again.
With the precision expected of a royal physician, he slipped the brace on and pulled the straps tight. He kept an eye trained for Chrysalis’ reaction, making sure he didn’t pull too hard. Ensuring it had been fitted properly, he fastened the buckles and returned to Luna’s side. His gaze shifted constantly between his princess and his patient. Without her magic, Chrysalis couldn’t decipher what exactly the look meant. At the slightest turn of Luna’s head, her guards positioned themselves around the bed. Chrysalis watched each of them intensely. A palpable air of anticipation filled the room.
“We’ll need you to come with us.” Twilight finally broke the silence. “Can you walk?” She motioned to the guards, who dropped the rails on the side of the bed closest to the window.
Chrysalis responded by pulling herself toward the edge. Her bones popped into place as she lowered herself onto the floor. The cold tiles felt strange against her hooves. She struggled to steady herself on three legs. The leather straps kept her injured leg bent just enough to stay off the ground. The guards exchanged an unsure glance, but none of them moved to aid her. Her awkward sway slowed as she acclimated to the new center of gravity. Eventually, she felt confident enough to raise her head.
Without a word, Luna retraced her steps back out of the room. Doctor Heart waved with a solemn grin towards the changeling before remaining behind to attend to Celestia. Chrysalis’ chaperones prodded her forward. The three left outside the room formed a vanguard, clearing the hallway for their princesses. Luna did not slow her demanding pace. Neither did the guards intend on letting Chrysalis lag too far behind. With the path cleared, it didn’t take long for the group to arrive at the hospital exit, but Chrysalis’ legs had already started to cramp.
Canterlot boasted a rather plentiful population. Hardly a drop in the bucket compared to a metropolis like Manehatten, but still sizable. Unlike the bustling metropolis, though, Canterlot tended to be far grander. Its citizens preferred a more complex Victorian architecture to the glass towers of the city. The Royal Canterlot Hospital was no exception. The grandiose building had been one of the first completed structures in the town, built in the shadow of the Royal Palace.
Though the streets had been blocked by a battalion of soldiers, a few ponies were still out and about on their daily chores. Their persistence earned them a glimpse of the grim parade to the golden gates of the castle. Chrysalis ignored the multitude of curious glances in her direction. The outer gates led to a walled courtyard. Through archways to either side, Chrysalis spied hedges and stone paths that spread out into the royal gardens. A white stone pillar stood in solitude amidst a sea of green ivy. The base of a statue. From here, she couldn’t see a nameplate. Perhaps her name would be lost to the annals of history alongside her.
The already decent gap between the princesses and their prisoner only widened as the guards surrounded Chrysalis. As soon as they noticed the object of her obsession, they stepped away. While they waited, they took pleasure in watching the dismay creeping across her face. Still, the princesses would notice if they fell much further behind. With a sturdy shove, they pressed the changeling onward. The sudden shift sent her stumbling forward onto the stone path. Twilight cast a concerned glance over her shoulder, but Chrysalis pretended not to notice.
Flowers spanning every color of the rainbow had been painstakingly planted across the courtyard, taking up any space unused by the main path. A handful of gardeners were planting bulbs and pulling weeds, doing their best to focus solely on their work. Past a statue carved in the likeness of the ruling sisters, an oak gate awaited them. Before Luna could even reach the door, it had been opened by a pair of guards standing beside it. They eyed the prisoner as she passed by. The front entryway of the castle led to a resplendent marble hallway. Colossal pillars reached up toward the vaulted ceilings. A thin red carpet had been laid out down the center of the room. The entryway carried a striking similarity to Chrysalis’ throne room.
Soldiers and servants moved in a flurry from smaller doors down the length of the hall. Chrysalis could only imagine they led to the rest of the castle. A barracks, a mess hall, maybe a pool somewhere. Whatever whim the sisters wished added in. Luna approached the second gate. This time, she stomped a hoof hard against the stone. The guards dispersed from their formation, disappearing into whatever duties awaited them. When the three were alone, two thestrals emerged from the shadows, brandishing their bat-like wings. They opened the way for their princesses. The appearance of shadowy, fanged ponies brought some iota of comfort to the changeling queen.
They entered the throne room. The two bat-ponies sealed the door behind them before slinking back into the dark. This room looked much like the previous one, apart from stained-glass murals in place of windows. The shards caught the sunlight as it filtered in, painting the room with a host of floral color. Finally, away from her escorts, Chrysalis allowed herself a moment of rest, feigning interest in the depictions down the length of the room. Twilight and her friends standing against Nightmare Moon. Against Discord. Against Chrysalis. She pushed forward, suddenly apathetic toward the pain.
Towards the back of the room, up a short flight of stairs, a raised platform held two celestial themed thrones. The ceiling above had been fitted with a skylight, allowing an overwhelming ray of sunlight into the courtroom. While Luna ascended to her seat of power, Twilight waited at the lowest step. The two alicorns watched Chrysalis expectantly.
“Chrysalis.” Luna’s voice echoed through the lofty rafters. “The terms of your imprisonment have changed.”
“I see. Here, I thought we were all just out for a midday stroll.” Chrysalis snorted.
“From this moment forward, you will be staying in Canterlot Castle. Unless in your private quarters, you are always to be accompanied by at least two guards . Any attempt to leave the castle will be considered an escape. Every guard on the premises is authorized to use force if they should witness you doing so.” Luna emphasized her point with a wave of her hoof.
“Oh. You were serious.” Chrysalis tilted her head, laughing. “I thought Twilight had finally made up her mind about the whole ‘turning me to stone’ thing.”
“Your punishment has not yet been decided. Rest assured, though, you will be forced to answer for your crimes against Equestria and her citizens.” Chrysalis found herself impressed with Luna’s composure. “But for now, you will be staying in one of the guest rooms under careful observation. Don’t make us regret this decision, Changeling. Even Twilight cannot protect you forever.”
Luna nodded toward the lavender pony. This simple gesture seemed to be enough to bring Twilight back from wherever her mind had wandered off to. “Right. I can show you to your room, if you want.” She started toward the side of the raised platform, to a set of doors hidden from plain view. Chrysalis followed. The double doors led to a thin yet tall hallway. Two ponies in polished gold armor were waiting for them.
Twilight moved with a deliberate slowness. Though Chrysalis would never admit it, her body needed the easier pace. The guard either didn’t notice or didn’t care. They kept their focus totally on the changeling. When Luna had been leading, she felt like a prisoner marching to the gallows. Behind Twilight, though, she seemed more like a pet, kept close to her master with a short leash. Chrysalis took her time climbing the stairs, but they eventually reached the top. Here, a T-shaped hallway held a wide variety of doors. A painting of the sun adorned the largest door. A crescent moon the one beside it. A six-pointed star on the opposite side. The princess trotted past her own bedroom and on to the next. Chrysalis found herself facing the image of a green diamond, the design highly reminiscent of her old crown.
“Thorax thought that symbol would do best.” Twilight admitted, pushing the door open. “He’s on the level right below us. Close enough to visit.”
The interior of the room was shaped like a cylinder. A bed large enough for two ponies had been brought in, complete with a purple and black canopy and sheets. An eyesore brick fireplace protruded from one edge of the room, its rusty décor clashing with the plain white walls. An image that Chrysalis guessed to be a map had been illustrated across the ceiling, marred by a crystal chandelier hanging in the center. An unimpressive door led to a bathroom. Black curtains had been pulled over the windows and balcony door, drowning out the midday sun.
“Well, here we are.” Twilight said overenthusiastically. Her body relaxed as she finally dropped her royal visage.
“It’s . . . nice.” Chrysalis mused. Were there names written on the ceiling?
“It’s not an accurate map. At least, not any map that I’ve been able to find.” Twilight shrugged. She drew herself to Chrysalis’ side, trying to mimic her point of view as she studied the paint. “You recognize it?”
“Nope.”
“Well, at least it’s comfortable.”
“Comfortable?” She snorted. “It’s a cage Twilight. It’s no different than a cell down in the dungeon. Though, I suppose a gilded cage is better than a rusted one.” She draped herself over the satin covers on her bed. “So why did you bring me here, Twilight?”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t try to lie to me. Only you or Luna could have made the decision to move me, and Luna would rather send me to the moon than let me desecrate this castle with my presence. So that leaves you.”
Twilight steeled herself. “We need your help.”
“You what?” Chrysalis coughed to cover a surprised laugh.
“I need help with my research.” Twilight couldn’t bear to meet the changeling’s eyes. “You’re the only one who knows anything about whatever magic is killing her. I think you might be the only one who can help me now.”
Chrysalis stopped hiding her amusement. A callous fit of laughter echoed around the room. Each sharp cackle dug into Twilight. “Give me one good reason I should even think about helping you.”
“Whatever you want, as long as it’s within my power to give you.” Each syllable stung as she released it.
An eerie smile revealed the full set of Chrysalis’ fangs. “You expect me to believe that? Why would I ever trust you to honor your end of the bargain?”
“All I can give you is my word, as a princess of Equestria.”
“Your word is worthless to me. I won’t help.” She did her best to draw out the final answer. She held just about every card in the deck, and she intended to win everything she could. Enamored by grim satisfaction, she didn’t notice Twilight drag herself to the edge of the bed.
The alicorn threw herself to the ground, bending her knees before the queen. Her head bowed low enough that her horn scraped against the stone. She convulsed, as if every fiber were struggling to stay bound together into her shape. Her body struggled to fight each word as it dripped from her trembling lips. “Please, Queen Chrysalis. I’m begging you. You’re my last hope. She’s like a mother to me. I’m not ready to let go. Please?”
Chrysalis hesitated, more confused than anything else. She thought she heard spite in Twilight’s voice. Then she spied the silent tears, crashing to the rug. Soft whimpers emanated from the prostrated figure. “What are you doing?”
“I’m begging you, Chrysalis. Help her. I’ll give you anything you want, I promise. I swear on my life” Between words, she stopped to catch a shaking breath.
A memory played out before Chrysalis, dredged from an abyss in the back of her mind. A memory she’d left in another life. All that remained of it was a voice. The broken, sobbing form of the creature at her feet sent a shudder crawling beneath her shell. A tight knot she hadn’t even noticed twisted in her stomach. As if lost in a trance, Chrysalis repeated the same words from that day.
“Stiffen up. A princess doesn’t cry.”
Twilight steadied her breathing and glanced up toward the figure on the bed. Chrysalis studied a spot on the wall. A part of her interpreted the words as hostile, an insult that threatened the strained composure of the princess. It was the foreign tone that caught her attention, though. It didn’t sound like a beratement. Rather, it sounded comforting, caring. Like a mother trying to console her foal.
“I’m sorry.” Twilight turned her back, wiping the tears welling in her eyes. “You’re right. I’m a princess. I’ll figure this out.” Seeing Twilight suffer should’ve been a beautiful painting, a keepsake Chrysalis would admire to her dying day. All the nights she’d spent planning revenge and imagining the look on Twilight’s face when she finally fell before the queen. She’d seen the broken shell of that lavender pony in her dreams since the day they met. She should’ve loved this. But she didn’t. She hurt.
“Twilight.” Chrysalis’ bit her tongue. It was barely a whisper.
She didn’t stop.
“Twilight.” Chrysalis raised her voice this time.
She didn’t look back.
“You’ve made your point.” Chrysalis sighed. “I’ll help, but you owe me. I intend to collect that debt from you after I save your princess.”
Twilight turned; her nose scrunched in anger. “Stop. Please, just stop. I can’t handle your games anymore, Chrysalis.” Her body trembled as she waited for the punchline.
“It’s not a game, Twilight.” She didn’t try to think about how many hive rules that sentence had shattered. “I’ll help you.” She sounded ashamed. The sight of Twilight’s blossoming hope made her ego sick, but she swallowed her pride.
“Really?”
“Yes. Now take my answer and leave before I change my mind again.” She yelled, glancing around for something to throw to make her point. Twilight complied.
Chrysalis twisted around until she lay on her back, staring up at the fictional map. She allowed her mind to slip away.
Twilight repeated the line aloud for the fourth time. She could read it just fine. It made sense. Yet, she still struggled to make sense of it. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a hoof to her forehead. A bookmark slipped into the book and she closed it. The motion nearly extinguished her candle, the flickering flame sending shadows dancing over the bricks. With a noise that echoed through the endless shelves of the library, Twilight slid her chair away from the desk. The book lifted from the desk behind her and nestled between two others on the bottom shelf.
“You look tired.” Luna trotted over to a nearby table, depositing a silver tray of various fruits and vegetables. Twilight’s stomach grumbled at the sight. “You missed dinner.”
“Oh? Sorry. I got a little . . .”
“Carried away?” Luna suggested.
“Carried away.” Twilight agreed.
“What were you reading?” Luna leaned into a nearby chair. Twilight joined beside her at the empty table, taking a carrot from her meal.
“An old spellbook.” She bit the vegetable in two. “Ancient healing magic. It’s mostly outdated, but I’m running out of options.”
“I see.”
“I’ve already made my way through most modern medical texts we have here. There’s a pretty good chance I could find the cure for just about anything somewhere on these shelves. That is, except for the one we need.” Twilight yawned.
“When was the last time you slept?” Luna motioned toward the neat pile of scrolls nearby. Each of them had been blanketed in notes, their script hasty, but skilled.
“I know.” Twilight waved her off. “I tried.” She laughed softly. “You know, before Celestia’s tests, I would spend the night before in this library, studying. She found me here one night, asleep, drooling all over one of my textbooks. When I woke up, she’d had breakfast prepared and waiting for me, right here at this table.” She smiled at her princess through misty eyes, imaging Celestia beside her, a gentle wing at her side while she explored the mysteries of magic.
Luna didn’t speak. Instead, she held out a hoof toward Twilight, wrapping it around her shoulder and pulling her into an embrace. Dark violet wings wrapped around the tearful alicorn, shielding her from the outside world. Twilight buried her head in her monarch’s fur, letting herself break down in her arms.
“I can’t do this, Luna.”
“Twilight . . . ” Luna stared off into the night, struggling to piece together some semblance of logic that would bring her peace. Celestia had always been the optimistic one.
“I’m not ready to let go.” Twilight took a shaky breath.
“Neither am I, Twilight. Can I tell you something?”
“What?”
“Before my exile, I’d witnessed my sister teach scores of different students. Unicorns from every corner of Equestria passed through that golden palace gate just as you did, all those years ago. Many of them possessed magic far beyond any normal pony. A rare few might have even given me a run for my money.”
“Really?”
“When I returned to Equestria, I could scarcely believe how much everything had changed. It only remotely resembled the home I’d left behind. Everywhere I went, ponies watched me with fear, ready to run for the hills. Except for one little purple unicorn.”
“Nightmare Night.” The memory conjured a warm glow. “I was dressed as Star Swirl the Bearded.” She pulled from Luna’s grasp. “You were the only one who even knew who I was.”
“It was the first thing I’d seen since my return that felt familiar. And even when I nearly ruined the night, you tried your best to comfort me. I haven’t forgotten the kindness you showed me that night, Twilight. For the first time in a long time, I found myself in awe of the student my sister had chosen. While your skill in magic had been impressive, your kind and gentle nature eclipsed anything I’d ever seen.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Twilight asked, her tear-stained cheeks growing red.
“Since that night, I watched you perform feats even I never dreamed possible. When my sister and I were lost, you were there. You saved Celestia. You saved me. You saved Equestria. Twilight, in all my years, I have never met a pony quite like you.”
“That’s kind of you, Princess.”
“And I know that no matter what obstacle you face, you will find a way to overcome. You always have, and you always will.”
The two of them allowed silence to overtake the library again. Wiping the tears from her face, Twilight saw to her dinner, all the while Luna sat nearby, enjoying the night’s ambiance. Occasionally, they would discuss something of note found within the various tomes filling the library. Nothing that would make their present situation any easier, but enough to occupy Twilight’s thoughts.
“Luna?” Twilight turned toward the darker pony. “I talked to Chrysalis today.”
“And?” Luna’s demeanor darkened slightly.
“I asked her to help us.”
Luna considered this information. Outside, the moon had neared the horizon. Dawn wouldn’t be far behind. “And what did she say?”
“She said she’d help.”
“Did she?”
“Something is different about her, Luna.”
Luna shifted a buckle on her royal uniform. “She is a changeling, Twilight. They’re different.”
“No, I mean different from the way she used to be. Sort of. I don’t know.”
“What is different about her?”
Twilight rested her head against the table. She couldn’t find the right words to explain it. “She seemed . . . lonely?”
“That’s to be expected,” Luna reasoned. “She is alone.”
“I guess. Maybe I’m just misreading the situation. I may be impressive, but social graces are still a concept I’ve yet to fully grasp,” Twilight admitted.
“I have faith in you and your plans. Keep this in mind, though: weak as she may be, Chrysalis’ true strength lies in deception and manipulation. She may wish to help, but it’s just as likely she’s hatching some sort of scheme. Promise me you’ll be careful around her.” Luna cast a pleading look at the student.
“I promise.” Twilight nodded.
The two of them were interrupted by the sound of armored steps. A lunar guard appeared from around the furthest shelf. “Princess Twilight. Princess Luna.”
“Is something the matter, Soldier?” Luna applied her royal demeanor.
“Princess Twilight asked me to inform her when her guest arrived.”
“She’s here?” Twilight bounced from her seat.
“She’s waiting outside.” He explained.
“Tell her to give me a minute to get my things, then I’ll be right out.” The guard saluted before returning to deliver the message.
“Your guest?” Luna retrieved a stack of notes from the desk where they lay.
“I invited Fluttershy.”
“Oh.”
“That’s alright, isn’t it? I probably should’ve asked first.” Hindsight was twenty-twenty.
“It’s quite alright, just a little surprising. Why only Fluttershy?” The two of them finished packing Twilight’s saddlebags and loaded them onto her back.
She took a moment to adjust the weight of her pack. “Her skill with animals is extraordinary. I thought she might know something useful to my research. She also has a certain chaotic friend that might know something, too.”
“Please tell me you didn’t invite him here.” Luna groaned.
Twilight giggled. “I don’t know. She didn’t say whether she brought him or not.”
The lunar princess turned serious. “Twilight, does she know what happened?”
“No. I was planning to let her sleep tonight, then I’d take her to see Celestia in the morning and explain everything. As far as she knows, this is just research I think she can help me with.” Twilight shrugged.
“Have you told anyone else about this?”
“I’ve put out a few letters here and there. None of them are too specific. Starlight, Trixie, and Sunburst know and are helping track down new leads to check. Spike knows, too. He’s still in Ponyville. I asked him to check in with Zecora. I think that’s it.”
“Alright. I want to try and keep a lid on this whole ordeal. If it gets out that Celestia is hurt and Chrysalis is here in the palace, things might get a little hectic.”
“Right.” Twilight waved goodbye as she made her way to the door. “And Luna?”
“Yes?” From this angle, Twilight could see the moon framed against the night sky, bathing its master in its pale glow. The scene could’ve been a work of art. “Thank you for the food. And the vote of confidence.”
Luna flashed a loving smile as Twilight left.
Out in the hallway, the pale yellow pegasus stood nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of a nearby sentry. She shifted her weight constantly, running her pink mane ragged as she tried to hide behind it.
“Fluttershy,” Twilight called her friend over to her with a wave of her hoof. The shy mare mumbled an apology to the guard as she passed, which he didn’t seem to notice. “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you at the station. I got caught up and lost track of time.”
“It’s all right, Twilight.”
“And thank you for coming on such short notice.”
Fluttershy gave her usual timid smile. “I wasn’t going to ignore one of my friends. Especially not if it’s an emergency. What happened?”
“Can you walk and talk?” Twilight asked, nodding toward a spiral staircase nearby. “I can show you to my room. You can stay there for the night, if that’s okay.” When Twilight learned how many guest rooms the castle held, she hadn’t believed it until she counted for herself. Still, those were meant for guests. Twilight’s friends weren’t guests. They were family. She’d made sure a small cot had been set up in her room for the mare close enough to be her sister.
“That’s just fine.” Fluttershy sighed, obviously relieved.
The two of them started up the stairs. “As for the emergency, we can deal with that in the morning. After a good night’s sleep.”
“What happened?”
Twilight bit her lip, thankful Fluttershy couldn’t see her face from behind her. “A pony was hurt. It’s some sort of magic that I can’t identify.”
Fluttershy tilted her head quizzically. “I don’t really know if I can take care of a pony. I mean, I’m more than happy to help if you think I can, but wasn’t there someone else that would be more helpful.”
“Well, it’s that whatever attacked her wasn’t a pony.” Twilight tried to argue with herself that it wasn’t technically lying to obfuscate the truth. It didn’t make her feel any better.
“An animal? Take me to them, I’ll talk to them.” The two of them finally reached the final few steps. Twilight led her to the lodgings marked with a purple star.
“We’ll talk more about it in the morning.” Twilight held the door, offering Fluttershy to enter first. “I have a bed set up for you.” Sure enough, the staff had constructed a small nest of blankets and pillows near the fireplace. Fluttershy obliged, settling into the cushioning.
“Where’s Spike?”
“He’s back in Ponyville. I really should check in on him. Or at least ask Rarity to.” Twilight sighed, curling up into her own bed.
“Are you okay, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked. Her soft-spoken voice sounded like a beautiful lullaby to the exhausted alicorn.
“I’m alright. It’s just been a crazy few days. I feel like I haven’t been home in years.”
“You could always invite the girls here for a while. They’d make you feel better, I’m sure.” Fluttershy stretched her wings and rolled onto her side.
“Maybe. It would be nice to see them.” Twilight’s eyes blurred.
“I’m sure they’d come running. It’s not every day you’re invited to stay in a royal palace like this.”
The purple alicorn sat up, glaring at the other pony. “I’ve told you guys hundreds of times that you can stay in my castle whenever you want.”
“Yeah, but that’s your castle. We hang out there all the time. This is different. The princesses live here. It doesn’t feel like home does.” She stifled a yawn. Twilight rolled her eyes and fell backwards onto her pillow. Sometimes, it really didn’t feel like home.
“Fluttershy, I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m happy to be here, Twilight,” Fluttershy whispered, resting her head against a small mountain of fluff. The two were asleep in minutes.
“It seems you slept well. I was a little worried. I know when I first get here, the new room can take some getting used to,” Twilight said as she led Fluttershy through the high archway into the mess hall. Guards lazed around the room, joking and enjoying their morning free time. A few noticed the princess among them, standing at attention. Twilight waved them off with a laugh.
“I had a really busy day yesterday,” Fluttershy explained. “Applejack and I were dealing with her pigs. We figured something they’d eaten made them sick. We were trying to track down the source. That’s when your message arrived.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were busy.” Toward the back of the mess hall, another short hallway led to the royal dining room. Though they would’ve been there faster if they’d taken the sister’s secret passage, Twilight enjoyed allowing her friend to tour the castle.
“There’s no need to apologize, Twilight. You needed my help too. You still haven’t really told me what about, though.”
“We can deal with that after breakfast.”
Noting the princess’ arrival, a trio of well-dressed servants disappeared into the kitchen. The obnoxious clanging of pots and pans soon gave way to a sweet scent in the air. Twilight and Fluttershy took their seats at the table beside one another.
“I hope I’ll be able to help,” Fluttershy worried.
The two of them settled into conversation. As she spoke, laughed, and discussed current events in Ponyville, Twilight hadn’t even noticed the burden of stress slip from her shoulders. Twilight asked how the situation with Applejack’s pigs had ended up. Fluttershy brought up Pinkie’s new cupcake recipe and subsequent selling of the treat. Apparently, it had been a hot item, both literally, and commercially. Just the thought of a hot sauce-flavored cupcake made Twilight nauseous. The two of them only stopped long enough to acknowledge Luna as she arrived. Given the slight mess of her mane and sour demeanor, it seemed her double shifts were finally wearing on her. Still, she handled herself with a confidence and pride expected of a princess.
“Good morning, Princess Luna,” Fluttershy waved. If she noticed the princess’ condition, she hid her surprise well.
Luna’s expression brightened at the sight of her guests. “Fluttershy. Twilight. I wasn’t sure you two would be up early enough to join me. Seems I was the late one, though.” She claimed her usual spot near the head of the table. Though the table could fit nearly two dozen diners, the three of them were gathered at one end in an intimate huddle.
“So, Fluttershy, how are you finding the castle?” Luna asked, tilting her head.
“It’s so big. I mean, I’ve been here before, but there were rooms I didn’t even know were here. I don’t know how you don’t get lost.”
“My sister and I have lived in this castle since it’s construction. We’ve had time to learn.”
“I get lost,” Twilight admitted, raising a hoof. They laughed together. Whether she intended it or not, there was a definite change in Fluttershy when Luna arrived. She kept her posture rigid and restrained herself. For all the progress she’d made with her nervousness and friendships she had built with the princesses, she couldn’t kick habits ingrained over her life. She didn’t act this way with Twilight, to the newest alicorn’s delight. She couldn’t blame the pegasus, though. Most ponies would probably find themselves wracked with nerves in the same situation.
“So, Fluttershy, what have you been doing in Ponyville?” Luna inquired.
“Not much. I mostly just take care of my animals. I don’t actually go into town that often, unless I’m with one of the girls.”
Luna seemed to notice the shift as well. “Twilight told me you’d built an animal sanctuary.”
“Oh yeah. I guess that counts. It just kind of became a part of my daily routine.” Fluttershy shrugged.
“Impressive” Luna took a deep breath. “How’s Discord been doing? Is he misbehaving?”
“Oh no. He’s doing very well. We have tea every week. I’ve been teaching him to make sandwiches. He’s had some trouble understanding the concept.”
“The concept of a sandwich?” Twilight raised an eyebrow.
“He still thinks there’s actual sand in it. I’m trying to convince him there isn’t. I don’t know if he doesn’t believe me or is just messing with me. Aside from that, he’s been nice. He considers us friends at this point.”
“That’s good to hear. I was a little troubled by leaving him so far from me and my sister. You seem to have been perfect for the job, though.”
Luna’s praise made the pegasus blush.
“Breakfast is ready whenever you are,” A stallion dressed in a chef’s apron announced from the kitchen.
“Bring it now. We’re ready,” Luna commanded. He disappeared into the kitchen, but before the door could close, a small group of servants arrived, carrying silver domed trays. They weaved through one another with the graceful ease of a trained server. Their actions synced flawlessly. One by one, they set their trays before the guests before removing the lid with a dramatic flourish. Luna, Twilight, and Fluttershy found themselves staring down a pile of pancakes, topped with butter, syrup, whipped cream, and a host of various berries.
“This looks amazing,” Fluttershy gasped, clapping her hooves eagerly. The waitress smiled and bowed. Her compatriots did likewise, and then they too were gone. “Do you eat like this every day?”
“It’s not always pancakes, if that’s what you mean,” Luna said, taking a knife to the fluffy cake.
“I mean, a good meal in a room like this, waited on by a team of servants.” Fluttershy shook her head.
“Then yes.” Luna took a bite.
As Twilight put a considerable dent in her plate, she remembered having a similar reaction her first time here. Since her coronation, the Canterlot Castle had started to feel familiar again. Not quite as comfortable as her real home back with her friends, but still pretty good. Truthfully, if not for her closeness with the other princesses, she doubted she’d spend much time here at all. The food certainly helped too.
“Is something wrong, Fluttershy?” Luna’s cool voice drew Twilight from her food. Fluttershy hadn’t moved, her breakfast completely untouched.
“No, it’s just . . . “ She turned to the empty seat at the head of the table. “Shouldn’t we wait for Princess Celestia? I don’t want to be rude.”
The other two shifted uncomfortably. Fluttershy shrunk in her chair, not quite understanding what just happened. She didn’t notice Luna’s concerned glance in Twilight’s direction. For her part, Twilight had lowered her knife, using her magic to poke the fork into a strawberry.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No. It’s not that,” Luna tried to reassure her. “I’m afraid my sister won’t be joining us today.”
“Oh.”
“I was hoping to wait until we’d enjoyed our breakfast, but I guess we can tell her.” Twilight stabbed the piece of fruit.
“Tell me what?” Fluttershy asked, leaning farther back in her chair, not sure she wanted an answer.
“I told you that I asked you here to help an injured pony.” Twilight speared a blueberry next.
The air turned cold in the room. Fluttershy’s face turned a sickly shade of pale as she connected the dots in her head. “Celestia?” Twilight didn’t need to respond. “I’m sorry, Twilight.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Twilight felt a pang of guilt in her ribs. This time, Fluttershy stayed quiet. “I had planned to break the news to you after breakfast, when we could go down to the hospital to see her.”
“The hospital? How serious is it?” A note of alarm raised in her voice.
“Her vitals are weak, and fading every day,” Luna interjected, watching Twilight skewer one berry after the next. “It’s slow, but consistent. She’s been unconscious since we found her. Doctor Heart’s best guess is that she has until the end of the month.”
“What happens at the end of the month?” Fluttershy felt all too happy that Luna didn’t feel the need to explain further.
“You said something attacked her?” Fluttershy turned toward Twilight, shaking. Twilight hadn’t expected any pony in Equestria to handle such news with unbroken poise, much less Fluttershy. And while the look plastered on her innocent visage certainly contained a trace of horror and sadness, Twilight could see determination burning behind her sky-blue eyes. She’d certainly handled it better than Twilight.
“Some thing indeed,” Luna grumbled, plunging the knife into the stack with a vigor.
“A manticore? A scorpion?” Fluttershy mentally built a list in her head of every dangerous animal she could think of. Still, none of them should’ve been able to best the princess.
“A Changeling,” Twilight sputtered.
“A Changeling? One of Thorax’s changelings? I thought they were our friends.” Betrayal bled into her cry.
“No. Chrysalis.” Twilight plucked a berry from the prongs of her fork with her teeth.
“Queen Chrysalis?” Her eyes widened.
Twilight nodded. “I should have told you earlier.”
“I know you didn’t want to worry me, Twilight. I’m your friend. Here, I was so happy to see you and hang out with you. The whole time you were probably worried sick about Celestia. I should’ve noticed.”
“Truthfully . . .” Twilight smiled at her friend. “I enjoyed spending time with you. It felt nice to focus on something else for a while.”
“Twilight . . .” Luna sighed.
“But you’re right. I’ve been terrified. For the last few nights, I’ve been researching whatever magic I could find in the castle library. Every book opens a whole new world, but none of them say anything about magic like this.”
“What about Thorax?”
“He didn’t know anything about it. He’s been taking care of Chrysalis.” Twilight realized what she’d said too late.
“Chrysalis is here?” Fluttershy asked, searching the room as if the changeling queen would swoop down at any moment.
“She’s upstairs in her room, under heavy guard,” Luna tried to set her at ease. It didn’t work too well. “You’re safe here.”
“Twilight.” Fluttershy scooted her uneaten breakfast away, her appetite thoroughly extinguished. “I want you to take me to Celestia.”
“Okay.” Twilight pulled herself together and rose from her chair.
“You won’t have to go far. We moved Celestia here last night,” Luna piped in.
“What? When?” Twilight turned quickly enough to make her head spin.
“Last night, while you were sleeping.”
Twilight and Fluttershy shared a look, as if to ask the other if they knew. “Without waking us? How?” Fluttershy asked.
“My elite soldiers are quite skilled at their work.” Luna smiled mischievously. “I’ll be sure to let them know what you think of them. They’ll be thrilled they can sneak around an alicorn.”
“Why did you move her?” Twilight didn’t know why this upset her.
“Doctor Heart’s recommendation. Apparently, there’s been a rumor swirling around about Celestia’s state. If that info makes it to the press, we would have chaos.” Luna shook her head. She loved her subjects about as much as they loved to panic. The news of a dying monarch and arrival of Chrysalis would be disastrous to Equestria
“Take me to her.” While it wasn’t the first time Twilight had heard Fluttershy take charge, it always sounded strange to hear her gentle voice giving orders. Under the present circumstances, she found her friend’s confidence infectious.
Without further distraction, Twilight did as she was commanded. Fluttershy followed, on guard. She scanned each room they walked in to, likely trying to find the changeling queen waiting in ambush. When they’d arrived at Chrysalis’ green crystal crest, the two guards stepped aside, allowing Twilight to enter. “Wait here with the guards.”
“Be careful, Twilight,” Fluttershy hissed, her quaking form hiding behind a taller, armored stallion.
Puffing out her chest, Twilight pressed forward into the darkness of the guest room. Her hoof flipped the switch, but the lights didn’t turn on. A second attempt. Nothing. The light from the hall would suffice. She called out for the changeling. From outside, Fluttershy watched between the feathers of her wing. Movement in the dark caught her eye. On the ceiling. She panicked. Nearly knocking the guard onto his flank, she zipped past him, galloping with the added speed of flight.
The sound of hooves stole Twilight’s attention from the figure in the bed. Before she could turn to comment on the commotion, Fluttershy tackled her. The little mare could hit hard. The two of them tumbled over to the windows. The guards outside drew their weapons, reading the situation as best they could.
“Ow.” Twilight was splayed out on the floor, rubbing her horn. “What was that for?”
The pegasus had landed behind her. Currently, the terrified figure gripped tight to a purple wing, curling up behind it to hide. Twilight caught her line of sight, following it to the ceiling where a large black stone seemed to be attached. If not for a let sticking out of the formation, she might have mistaken it for a boulder.
“Chrysalis?” Twilight climbed to her hooves. Fluttershy repositioned herself behind Twilight, still cowering from the dark figure. The darkness writhed for a moment as Chrysalis craned her neck in a wide arc, until she found herself staring straight down at the two frightened ponies. The annoyance in her gaze, clear as day.
“C- C- Chrysalis?” Fluttershy wrapped her wings over her head.
The changeling rolled her eyes. She released her grip, twisting through the air to reorient herself to gravity. Before she hit the ground, her wings caught her, whining maddeningly. Now on the floor, she eyed the two of them. A wicked smile crept across her features. “Ahh, Twilight. I didn’t know you’d deliver breakfast to me.” She licked her fangs in a manner obvious to the traumatized pegasus.
“Stop that.” Twilight turned to block her friend from sight.
“Twilight. I’ve changed my mind. I’m ready to leave,” Fluttershy stuttered.
“Sorry, Fluttershy. She’s just messing with you. She wouldn’t dare try to hurt you.” Twilight stared down the changeling. The threat didn’t go unnoticed.
“Quit your sniveling.” Chrysalis sighed. “Look. I couldn’t even drain you if I tried.” She tapped a hoof to her horn.
“Oh. Okay.” Fluttershy sounded far from okay.
“I’m sorry. There, does that make it better?” Chrysalis whined.
“It’s a start,” Twilight growled. “You try to scare Fluttershy again, you’ll be a statue in the garden by nightfall.”
“That’s cute, Twilight. We both know you’re smarter than that.” She chuckled quietly.
“When did her wings heal? Why didn’t we know about this?” Twilight directed the question toward the two guards just inside the mouth of the room.
“Oh, they don’t notice most of the things I do.” Another dirty look from Twilight started to test her patience. “Walking hurts and my wings needed less energy to heal. Thorax’s last feeding barely had enough to cover it. Speaking of which, when’s breakfast? I’m famished.”
“We’ll get to that,” Twilight assured her. Fluttershy slowly crept out of the alicorn’s shadow. “What was all of that about?” She raised a hoof upward.
“I had trouble sleeping last night. I decided to make myself more comfortable.”
“And the bed?”
Chrysalis spared a glance in that direction. Spare pillows had been rearranged beneath the covers to resemble a body huddled beneath the sheets. “For assassins,” she said plainly.
“Assassins? Here in Canterlot?” Twilight sounded amazed.
“A pony town where everyone hates me or thinks of me as a monstrous villain. Remember how you felt waking up in a changeling hive?”
“Extremely well, thanks.” Twilight’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Are you ready to help us?”
“I was promised breakfast.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“I demand breakfast.”
“Fine.” Twilight called one of the guards over. “Go downstairs and retrieve Thorax. Have him brought to my study.”
The stallion Fluttershy had been using as a shield saluted and hurried off. “Happy now?”
“No.”
“Come on.” Twilight led Fluttershy out of the room. Chrysalis hopped off the ground, gliding after them with a buzz.
“Are you alright?” Fluttershy clung tightly to Twilight.
“I never wanted to see her again,” the pegasus whispered, driven by shame and fear of the creature trailing them. “I still have nightmares of the last time.”
With a regretful smile, Twilight draped her wing over Fluttershy. She should never have gotten her friend involved. No matter how many times she ran the scenario through her head, there were almost no outcomes from this whole situation that would end well.
Chrysalis hummed a forgotten tune as she hovered down the hallway. She’d never intended to hurt the poor mare. She wasn’t even sure she had hurt her. Still, she’d upset Twilight.
Suddenly, she found herself drawn to their conversation the previous night. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t dislodge this particular splinter from her mind. Had she really fallen so far as to start feeling guilty for a simple joke? Worse still, she didn’t care about the pegasus. Had Twilight not been there, she doubted she’d feel like this.
“Fluttershy?” Chrysalis sped forward beside the pegasus. The sound of her name spoken in Chrysalis’ alien voice sent a shudder down her spine.
A flash of light put Twilight squarely between them. “Don’t,” she warned.
Chrysalis slowed her wings, rooting herself to the ground where she landed. Fluttershy watched from several feet away, psyching herself up to jump in if Twilight needed backup. The unicorn taking up the rear of the group floated a spear to his side.
“What?” Fluttershy squeaked.
Chrysalis drew a deep breath, shaking her mane into its normal shape. “I’m sorry. Genuinely. It was a joke; I had no intention of offending you.” Chrysalis turned away. “Of course, I intended to scare you, but it was wrong.” She gagged. She hated herself. Twilight donned a weary stance.
“It wasn’t a joke to me.” Fluttershy backed away slowly.
She and Twilight turned and continued. They might as well have slapped her across the muzzle. Chrysalis wanted nothing more than to return to her room and curl herself into a corner. A shame to changeling queens everywhere. A sharp poke with the blunt end of a spear spurred Chrysalis back into the air and onward toward Celestia’s room. The sentry posted there slotted the key into the lock and ushered the group inside.
The lights had been dimmed, allowing the sun outside to bathe the room in natural light. A color fitting for the solar princess. Lines of knick-knacks and priceless treasures lined the outer rim of the room, broken only by a fireplace. A small fire had been started by the two armored ponies sitting nearby. They jumped to attention at Twilight’s entrance.
“How is she?”
“Doctor Heart left a short while ago. Said there’s no change, Princess.”
“Had he uncovered anything about this sickness?”
“Not that we were told about, Princess,” The second guard said.
“Thank you. Leave us for now. You can return when we leave.” Twilight took her place at her mentor’s side. The two stallions took their leave. Fluttershy stood opposite Twilight, while Chrysalis made herself comfortable by the fire. The wild flames licked at her chitin.
“She looks peaceful,” Fluttershy observed. Her breathing grew heavier.
“She does.” Twilight’s eyes started to water. She wiped the tears away. “Brace yourself.”
Fluttershy watched Twilight draw back the covers, careful not to disturb the various electronic devices tracking the princess’ life signs. Her yellow wings locked at her sides, her lip trembling as the reveal continued. A blackened scar traveled the length of Celestia’s flank, reminiscent of mold that grew on dead animals. Dark veins stretched out from the point of impact. A few days ago, they’d only reached to the belly and back. Now, they were starting down her legs and up her neck.
“This is horrible.” Fluttershy turned her head. “Chrysalis did this?”
“Yes. Hey, what are you doing?”
Chrysalis opened her eyes to see two yellow hooves, inches from her face. Her eyes traveled up them to the tail of a pink mane, then to Fluttershy’s eyes. The pegasus had her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed. “Tell me what happened.”
Chrysalis squirmed. “I don’t remember.”
“I don’t believe you.” Fluttershy leaned in closer. “Tell me what happened.” Her soft tone did little to lessen the growing fear in Chrysalis.
“It’s the truth. I was half dead when she found me. We talked for a moment. I lunged at her. She avoided it as best she could, but I caught her in the side. I was told my horn broke in the attack and then I woke up in the hospital.” She couldn’t stop her tongue.
“Is this your magic?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” Chrysalis watched the shapes of herself and Celestia in the flickering flames.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t know what I did to her. I can’t remember.” The burning image of Chrysalis maneuvered the same as the real one had. She struck the little Celestia. “I’ve never used my magic like that before. I doubt I’d be able to recreate it even if I had my horn.” Chrysalis’ throat felt dry as the little figures vanished into the embers.
Fluttershy released the changeling from her stare, shaking her head as she hurried to Twilight’s aid. “Let me take a closer look.” Twilight scooted to the side, allowing her friend closer.
“Is it a toxin?” Twilight asked.
“It kind of looks like one. You said Chrysalis made this with her horn?”
“We’re pretty sure. A few shards of it were caught in her fur.”
“Have you tested it for poison?”
“I did. Nothing showed up.”
“Is it infectious?”
“Not that we’ve seen.”
The fire glowed in Chrysalis’ eyes. She could hear a pony approaching outside the door. Sure enough, a knock followed soon after.
“Princess Twilight? Thorax is here.”
“Send him in,” Twilight yelled absentmindedly.
The brightly colored changeling took note of the room’s occupants. “Hey Twilight, Fluttershy. Queen Chrysalis.”
“Hello, Thorax.” Fluttershy waved.
“Chrysalis was asking for you,” Twilight explained. Off to the side, Chrysalis didn’t bother to react to his presence, even when he set himself next to her beside the fire.
“Queen Chrysalis?” Thorax leaned forward, trying to see her face.
“What?” She groaned, finally glancing upward.
“You okay?”
“No.” Chrysalis didn’t intend on elaborating further and Thorax had no wish to pry. Instead, he remained as a silent companion. She could feel him rest his head across her back. The electric charge of love in the air caused Chrysalis to tense. Thorax jumped back, putting enough distance with his wings to avoid another bruise. She made no such attempt. Feeling slightly more at ease, he returned to his perch.
“When was the last time we were like this?” Thorax asked. He sounded tired.
“A couple years, at least.” Chrysalis flicked him with the edge of one of her wings.
Unknown to both them and Fluttershy, Twilight had noticed their interaction. She didn’t like one of her friends being so close to the beast, but she had no authority over the king. Fluttershy examined the wound, searching for any marks that could bear a similarity to an animal wound she’d ever seen. She’d seen a few gruesome sights working with animals, but few of them ever reached the level of damage on the princess.
“Any discoveries?” Thorax asked, rolling until he could face the two ponies without lifting his head.
“Nothing concrete yet. I’ve got some theories to try later, though.” Twilight tapped her chin with a hoof. “What about you, Fluttershy?”
“It looks kind of like a manticore sting. Still, a manticore sting wouldn’t be spreading like this. That, and it wouldn’t have taken this long.”
“A manticore sting,” Twilight repeated to herself. “I’ll look into that. Regardless if it is venom or not, it still does have a mystical quality for it. Do changelings have venom?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” He scratched a shoulder with his antler. “Do we?” He twisted his head back, coming face-to-face with the queen.
“No. We have magic and wings.”
“Alright, I think I’ve seen enough, Twilight. I’m ready to leave.” Fluttershy pulled the sheets back up over Celestia, granting her the visage of sleep, rather than impending death.
“We can head up to my study. That means you two as well.” Twilight motioned toward the two changelings.
“Do you have a fireplace up there?” Thorax asked, sounding a little too excited.
“No. I have burners to heat my experiments. Take it or leave it.” Twilight frowned.
“Alright.” Thorax forced himself back onto his feet. He offered a hoof to Chrysalis. Her senses were lost in the fire. Sitting too close to the flames had scorched the edge of her carapace. “Chrysalis?”
She turned her head slightly toward him, not pulling her gaze from the bright burning agony. Images swam through the blaze. Celestia. Luna. Twilight. Thorax. Fluttershy. She didn’t see herself. Perhaps that's the way things ought to be. Ponies hated her. Her changelings hated her, except for Thorax. Her trance drew her closer to the fireplace, the heat stinging her eyes. Thorax grabbed her mane in his teeth and pulled, shocking her back into reality.
“Don’t touch me.” She shook herself free.
“What was that?” Thorax reached a hoof toward her muzzle. She could feel the chip in her shell, the soft pink underneath burned red. Her hoof reached up instinctively, wiping the water from her eyes.
“Let’s go. They’ll sic the guards on me if I’m too slow.” She struggled to her hooves. Twilight and Fluttershy were waiting outside, discussing their findings. Thorax sighed. He’d seen her move like this before, after the disastrous wedding in Canterlot. She moved slowly, painfully, as if crushed by some unforeseen weight. In their old lives, the two of them never needed to speak. With the hivemind, they understood everything the other did. They shared happiness, sorrow, fear, anxiety. Now, though, he could neither read her mind nor her face.
“Thorax, will you be joining us?” Twilight tapped her hoof impatiently.
“Yeah,” Thorax muttered. Chrysalis refused to look him in the eye as they traveled upward toward Twilight’s study.
“You know, Twilight,” Fluttershy almost couldn’t believe the disaster she’d stumbled into, “I thought you’d be more organized.” Books ranging across a wide spectrum of topics had been stacked on the tables that lined the room. Loose pages, both from damaged books and scrawled notes were scattered across the floor.
“Yeah,” Twilight said like it was no big deal. “Normally Spike handles that part. With him gone, I’ve had to . . . ” She winced. “Improvise.”
“Don’t you have servants?” Chrysalis brushed past the two, focus locked on the carpeted storage area beneath the large window on the far wall. Heavy purple curtains had been drawn, blocking the midday sun. She squeezed into a small opening surrounded by dusty crates of books and miscellaneous scientific junk.
“I thought about that.” Twilight stepped aside to let Thorax through before closing the door. “They tried their best, but I couldn’t find anything I needed. I figured I’d rather have it be a mess than not be able to find something. Plus, I couldn’t do that to Spike.”
Fluttershy examined a strange glass contraption on the nearest table. A metal ring propped a thin glass file over an exposed flame. A small black rock was submerged in a bubbly pink liquid. “So, what is all this stuff?”
“My experiments. I’ve been mixing different materials to try and find a cure. None of them have done anything so far.” Twilight joined her friend’s side. “This one is my most promising. I’m attempting to mix a potion that can nullify a changeling’s magic.”
“So, what’s that floating in it?” Fluttershy asked, tapping the glass. The small stone sank slowly to the bottom.
“It may or may not be a shard of a changeling’s horn. I have so far been able to weaken their magic but can’t outright nullify it.” She scratched behind her ear. “It shows promise, but it’s still a long way from working on whatever’s wrong with Celestia.”
“Okay.” Fluttershy tapped the glass a second time, generating a small cloud of bubbles.
“So, what exactly are we supposed to do?” Thorax asked.
“Observe for now. If I have need for either of you, I’ll let you know.” Twilight offered him an enthusiastic nod. “Until then, just make sure she behaves herself.” Thorax joined Chrysalis in her impromptu box hive. From his perch, he watched the two ponies continue their introductory lecture, but neither changeling really listened for long.
“So, do you want to talk about what just happened?” Thorax asked, prodding Chrysalis. “Back in Celestia’s room.”
“No,” Chrysalis slapped his hoof away with her own, “we don’t need to talk about it.”
“I think we do.”
“Why would I care what you think?”
“Mutual respect?” He shrugged. Though Chrysalis tried her best to hide it, Thorax could hear a muffled snicker under her breath.
“Has Twilight been taking good care of you while I was gone?” Thorax thoughtlessly retrieved one of the books from a nearby box. The title resembled a sort of inane scribbling, but there was a rather impressive drawing of a leaf on the cover.
“Oh, I’m sure she and Luna will be all too happy to take care of me.” Chrysalis snorted.
“I don’t know. If you can save Celestia, maybe they’ll go easy on you.” He exchanged his tome for another. This one appeared to be an index of monsters. He opened to the Bugbear and examined the page. A few of the sheets seemed to be missing here and there.
“You really don’t know how this works, do you?” Without raising her head from the floor, she glanced upwards at Thorax. “They’ll never let me go. I’ll spend the rest of my eternal life as a statue for little foals to point at, telling stories about the big bad Changeling Queen.”
“I don’t think . . .”
“Or maybe, If I’m lucky, they’ll just decide to kill me. Would be nice to take a break from all this.” She motioned to the world around her with a foreleg.
“That’s not funny.” Thorax frowned, turning the page. Thorax didn’t recognize this monster.
“Who said it was a joke?”
“I might be able to talk to Twilight. Maybe you can come back to live with us?” Thorax asked hopefully. He flipped another page. A changeling. His mouth felt dry.
“Like that would be any better. They’d never accept me back. They shouldn’t accept me back.”
Thorax slammed the book shut and hauled it over his shoulder, earning an intense glare from Twilight. “The changelings would love to have you back. A lot of them have missed you.”
She blew a puff of air that almost sounded like the start of a laugh.
“I mean it.”
“No, you don’t. Even if they would accept me, I wouldn’t go back.”
“Why not?” Thorax noticed Fluttershy nodding eagerly at Twilight. He hadn’t heard the question, but she seemed excited.
“I’m not the queen anymore, Thorax. I would hope you’ve figured that out by now.” She tugged on his antler with her teeth, nearly tipping the king off his wooden throne.
“Hey, stop that.” He pulled himself free with a grunt. “Then don’t come back as queen. Maybe an advisor. Or a general. Or just a friend.” He wanted to reach out and comfort her but thought better of it. She didn’t seem to be in the mood for comfort.
“We both know that wouldn’t work.” Though her melancholy words dampened his spirits, he knew deep down he agreed with her, no matter how badly he wanted to deny it. Of course, he hadn’t expected her to take him up on his offer anyway.
Thorax let his legs relax, hanging them over the edge. He didn’t want to keep talking, but he couldn’t handle the deafening silence between them. He tried to tune back into Twilight’s rant, but the string of names and overly complex terminology just made the ache in his head worse. To her credit, Fluttershy at least seemed to be doing her best to keep up.
“Why do you still care, Thorax?”
The question blew Thorax off his crate. The two ponies cast concerned glances in his direction, but he smiled and waved to show he wasn’t seriously hurt. He hauled himself back up onto his platform. “What kind of question is that? Did you think I wouldn’t care?”
“Truthfully? I don’t know any reason you should.”
“You don’t?” Thorax flipped himself onto his back, splaying his memories across the bright white paint that lined the arched ceiling. “You raised me. You’re my queen.”
“I’m not your queen anymore, remember?” Her accusatory remark sunk into his ribs like a blade. He hadn’t meant it like that. Still, he didn’t deny he said it.
“You were my queen. You know, my first memory is of you sitting in the nursery, watching over us as we hatched.”
“I don’t remember that,” Chrysalis said, remembering the exact moment he spoke of. “I raised a lot of changelings.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you were there. You watched over us as we grew. Trained us to survive in a world that hated us—”
“Led you into a full-on war with ponies, drove my own hive to leave me behind to seek better lives, and buried my own sons and daughters. Give me some time, I’m sure I can come up with more.” Chrysalis retreated inward, tucking her head down into the dark. “You should go home. Take care of them. Do better than I could.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Thorax whispered. He couldn’t tell if she heard him.
Hours passed while Twilight ran Fluttershy through each brew she had in the works. Fluttershy did her best to try and engage Twilight but eventually accepted her role as more of a soundboard to bounce ideas off. Occasionally, the less studious pony offered a solution she thought would offer some merit. A few suggestions led Twilight to add another page to the growing heap of notes, while others were shot down almost immediately. By the time the two were finished with their work for the day, neither changeling could tell if they’d accomplished anything.
“I should head back to my room. It’s getting pretty late, and Pharynx will probably be wondering where I am,” Thorax explained. With a fond farewell to the rest of the group, he left. Chrysalis found the silence more agonizing without hearing his quiet breathing nearby.
“I’ll have one of the guards escort you down to dinner, Fluttershy.” Twilight retrieved one of her underlings and assigned him to Fluttershy. “Go ahead and start without me. It might be awhile before I’m able to join you.”
“Alright, Twilight. If you’re not down in an hour, though, I’m coming back up here to carry you down, myself. Spike made me promise.” The two of them shared a quick laugh, and then she too vanished into the winding corridors of the castle.
“And what about me?” Chrysalis asked, finally rising from her alcove.
“I’d almost forgotten you were here.”
“Glad to see I leave such an impact.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes.
“I’ll take you back to your room in a bit. I just have to finish recording my thoughts for tonight. Apparently, I only have an hour,” Twilight joked.
“Oh yes, Fluttershy’s threat,” Chrysalis mused, stretching her cramped muscles.
“That wasn’t a threat, it was a joke.” Twilight shook her head.
“Oh, it was a joke then.” Chrysalis widened her eyes in mock insult.
“What is your problem with Fluttershy?” Twilight asked, setting her quill down to give her prisoner her full attention.
“I don’t know what you mean. I don’t have a problem with Fluttershy,” Chrysalis lied.
“And I’m queen of the changelings.” Twilight rose from her seat. “Don’t lie to me, Chrysalis.”
“I shall lie to you as I please.”
Twilight threw her hooves up in defeat. “Fine. Don’t talk. Suffer in silence over there, by yourself. I couldn’t care less.”
“I’d prefer if one of the guards could return me to my room. I have a lot of being imprisoned to catch up on.”
“If it means I get some quiet to focus on my work, then fine.” She hollered for her escort, “Would you mind taking Chrysalis back to her room for the evening. I’ll send someone up to relieve you shortly.” The guard bowed, drawing his spear and herding Chrysalis towards the stairs. She allowed him to chaperone her back to her quarters before slamming the door in his face.
She made her way into the rather ostentatious bathroom connected to her room. A dull tan paint gave the bathroom a more personal feeling. A marble sink sat atop a wooden cabinet stocked with basic toiletries. She hadn’t bothered to explore the bathroom during her time here. She’d never had a reason to use it.
In the corner, Chrysalis finally found what she’d hoped would be here. A porcelain tub held in place with half a dozen golden dragon claws. The bath had been sized to fit fully grown alicorns with room to spare. Still hovering in the air, she used her hooves to turn the water on and kicked the door closed. It took less than a minute before a column of steam flooded the room.
The mirror over the sink showed an image of a changeling queen. She allowed her reflection to study her body for a moment. Her chitin had grown lighter. A single shade lighter, but lighter, nonetheless. Her green mane had lost its flare, pressed flatly to her neck. She examined the remains of her horn. It looked perfectly smooth. Too perfect to be natural. She wagered that either the hospital staff or Luna had seen fit to make sure she couldn’t use it to gore them. A smart decision, for a pony.
Sufficiently disgusted with the creature staring back at her, Chrysalis pulled herself away from the mirror. She leaned against the edge of the tub, reaching down to her leg. Tugging at the buckles on her brace seemed a fruitless task. They required a dexterity she didn’t have. Desperate, she tried to gather her focus and summon her magic. A few green cinders swirled forward, extinguishing before they could even hit the soft white rug sitting on the tile.
Surrendering, Chrysalis fluttered into the air and eased her body into the hot water. She’d have to ask Doctor Heart for a new one tomorrow. Preferably, one she could use herself. Still, those were problems for future Chrysalis. Present Chrysalis wasn’t thinking at all. To any pony, the water would’ve been scalding. To a changeling, their shell provided protection from heat, meaning she needed to go overboard to feel the warmth of the water against her skin. Even the thin layer that had formed over her injured leg would be enough to keep her safe.
“Chrysalis?” Out in her room, the door opened. The changeling groaned, regretting that she’d left the light on. Twilight must’ve seen the gold shine under the door. “Chrysalis, are you in there?”
“No. I escaped and am currently leading the guards on a chase around the gardens. Try looking there,” Chrysalis yelled back before repositioning herself to a more comfortable spot.
“We need to talk. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Shut up. I’m trying to relax in here, and you’re making that very difficult.”
Silence. She hadn’t heard retreating hooves, so she guessed Twilight had rooted herself outside the bathroom door. “Do you need soap?”
“Can’t you just leave me in peace for a night. I promise I’ll ignore whatever you have to say tomorrow.”
“Chrysalis,” Twilight’s voice grew soft, “I’m not leaving until we talk.”
“Then say what you need to say and go.” Chrysalis splashed a hoof through the water. The ache in her core had finally started to fade.
“I found the book Thorax had been reading.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Twilight.”
Twilight huffed. “Fine. Just keep in mind that this is your fault.”
“What’s my—” Chrysalis jumped as a magenta light blinded her, the sudden movement sending a wave crashing over the rim of the tub. Twilight’s form materialized on the bathmat.
“This. This is your fault. Me being in here.”
“I can’t even take a bath without you bothering me, can I?” Chrysalis groaned. “Whatever happened to having privacy?” She gave an overly dramatic sigh.
“This is important. Besides, you’re our prisoner. You don’t get to have privacy.” Twilight hovered a book past her, hovering it so Chrysalis could examine the cover. A collection depicting some of the most dangerous monsters in Equestria.
“This is what’s so important?” Chrysalis sounded thoroughly unimpressed.
“Yes. Well, no. Kind of.” Twilight shook her head. “Look, just humor me, will you?”
“Fine, if I must.” Chrysalis rested her head back against the tub, closing her eyes.
“I was thinking about what you said to Fluttershy earlier.”
“Yes?” Chrysalis sank deeper below the surface. “I recall.”
“You tried to apologize, and we just ignored you. I thought Fluttershy was so upset with you because you’d scared her. I know she doesn’t take being scared well, even from ponies she knows as well as me.” She watched for any shift in the changeling’s face. “And then I saw this.” The book flipped open to the image of a generic changeling. “Fluttershy thinks you’re a monster.”
“She isn’t the only one, Twilight.”
“I think if other ponies got to know you, they’d think better of you.”
Chrysalis’ sudden laughter sent Twilight scampering backward. “I am a monster, Twilight. Remember, we had this discussion already.”
“I’ve been thinking, Chrysalis. About you.”
“Oh? Please enlighten me..”
“I . . . I’ve been reconsidering.” Twilight lay her body on the cold tiles near the door. Her vacant expression seemed to be watching beyond these four walls.
“Then why did you jump between the two of us when I stopped her?” Chrysalis’ snapped.
“I –”
“You wanted to protect her. Instinctively or not, I’m still a monster to you, Twilight. That won’t change. It shouldn’t change.”
“I don’t think that. We believed Discord was a monster.” She looked shamefully at the book held aloft by her magic. “We thought the rest of the changelings were monsters, too. I don’t want to fight you, Chrysalis.”
The two sat in silence for a long while. Twilight waited for Chrysalis to say something. To say anything. Chrysalis had no intention of indulging her. In fact, she couldn’t even think of a rational response to that revelation. She made sure not to show her confusion.
“Is that all you have to say?” Chrysalis shrugged.
Twilight nodded slowly. “I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”
“You have every reason to think of me that way, Twilight. I’ve never given you any other.” Her water had started to cool. She couldn’t feel the warmth anymore. She couldn’t feel anything.
“Maybe we can change that.” Twilight offered a kind smile.
“Killing your princess is a pretty bad start.”
“What about saving a princess?” Twilight offered.
“That I tried to kill. You really just don’t get it, Twilight. Maybe you’ll see me in a new light. Maybe you won’t. It doesn’t really matter. All Equestria feels the same as Fluttershy. And I’m not the fondest of them either.”
“Are you fond of me?” Twilight watched the gears in the changeling’s head churn.
“No,” Chrysalis finally said. “You’re just another pony to me. Go finish your dinner now, would you? I need to draw a second bath; this one is cold now.” She refused to notice Twilight’s sullen expression. Without another word, Twilight released the lock with her magic, dragging her book along with her and leaving the changeling to her relaxing evening.
Chrysalis waited until she heard the second door close before she threw her head back. With her uninjured hindleg, she kicked the knob for the faucet, setting it as far into the red as it could. No matter how many times she refilled the tub, the water never felt as soothing as the first one.
“Rise and shine,” Twilight sang, cracking Chrysalis’ door open just enough to slip inside. Her steps echoed through the silent bedroom. The sound instilled a profound sense of solitude in the pony, despite the knowledge she couldn’t possibly be alone. The spell continued, pulling open the curtains, spilling dull blue daylight into the dark. A thin layer of frosty dew smudged the view of the gardens outside.
“Come on, Chrysalis. I have plans for us today,” Twilight continued. Chrysalis groaned, constricting her body tighter to hide from the morning. She was currently curled up, hanging from the ceiling where it met the wall and fireplace like a locust. An angry, overgrown locust.
“I think I tried to kill the wrong princess.” Chrysalis shook a hoof angrily.
Unimpressed, Twilight stepped out for a moment, requisitioning a spear from one of the ponies outside. Holding it tight in her purple glow, she raised the blunt end into the air, jabbing it into Chrysalis’ back. A surprised yelp sent the changeling crashing down like a sack of bricks.
“Ow.” Chrysalis’ childish whine and distinctly nonroyal landing almost made the vicious changeling adorable.
“I told you to hurry up,” Twilight hid a chuckle behind her hoof, “but you didn’t have to take the express way down.”
Chrysalis rose slowly to her feet, shaking her senses awake. “Give me that spear and we’ll call it even,” she threatened.
Twilight couldn’t take her seriously with her mossy mane sticking every which way.
“Not on your life. Hurry up and get ready, we’re going out today.” Twilight started for the door, twirling the weapon alongside her. Chrysalis ran a hoof through her mane, pulling a few knots loose and settling it into place before following. She stepped out into the hall in time to see Twilight return her borrowed tool to a concerned stallion.
“So, what stupid thing do you have planned for us today?” Chrysalis asked, trying her best to form a mental map of the route she’d been dragged through. Two hallways, a downward flight of stairs and a few dozen confused double-takes from passing ponies later, Twilight led Chrysalis out into the royal court. Unless the changeling had been unusually lax in her mental mapping, she felt confident that Twilight wasn’t leading her to the study.
“You’ll see,” Twilight said, her voice bordering on song.
“Where’s Fluttershy?” Chrysalis glanced around as if worried the pegasus would swoop down at the mention of her name.
“She’s off having breakfast with Luna. We’ll meet up later.”
“So, she’s too scared to be in a room with me,” Chrysalis corrected. The lunar and solar thrones shimmered under the skylight. The princesses must have looked quite impressive to their subjects from atop their seats of power. She wondered how she and Twilight would look in their place. The thought amused her.
“She’s not scared of you.” Twilight considered her statement. “She’s not that scared of you. Probably. Either way, that’s not why she’s not with us.”
The stained-glass windows looked far more vibrant this time through. Chrysalis didn’t shrink away, studying each one in detail. Watching Twilight and her friend’s adventures over the years had, at first, annoyed Chrysalis. Now, she only felt foreign, an outsider watching heroes in a fairytale. Even though she stood only a few feet away, Twilight felt more like a storybook hero than a real pony.
“Keep up,” Twilight insisted. A few guards watched the two from a distance, their uniforms marking them as a lower rank. They’d been informed of their newest guest, but that didn’t make the sight of her less terrifying. Whenever Chrysalis locked eyes with one, they couldn’t help but turn away. She’d have been proud of that a few days ago.
“You’re killing me, Twilight,” Chrysalis moaned. Unfortunately, as it turned out, her leg brace had been waterproof. She’d been hoping to have it taken off to replace it. With the new plates growing in, the straps had grown tighter. Even a single moment of freedom would have been divine.
“How much longer are you supposed to wear that?” Twilight asked, slowing to Chrysalis’ pace.
“I have no idea. Doctor Heart didn’t tell me. I’m not even sure he knows.”
“He probably knows. He’s only studied medicine for a decent chunk of his life,” Twilight mused. The two made their way through the massive double doors that led out into the castle courtyard.
“Which part of that involves changeling anatomy?” Chrysalis huffed. The stiff morning breeze carried a hint of winter’s frost. From over the courtyard walls, she could hear daily life. Ponies called out to one another, exchanging daily pleasantries. Outside the golden gates, carriages clacked against the cobblestone streets. She could taste the scent of freshly baked goods in the air, suddenly awash in regret of every missed dessert.
“Here. We’re going this way.” Twilight motioned to the high arch at the edge of the courtyard. The Royal Gardens. Any pony worth their salt knew of the Canterlot Royal Gardens, which meant the changelings did too. The gardens were open to all: students visiting on field trips, tourists on vacation, local ponies who just wanted a peaceful day in nature. Today, though, the gardens were empty. Even the gardeners made sure to keep out of sight.
Twilight stepped aside, allowing Chrysalis to take the first step into the floral wonderland. Tall hedges formed in the inner walls of the gardens, white flowers poking through the greenery in uneven patches. The high stone walls were hidden from view beneath a sheet of tangled ivy. The main path wound for miles around the sides and back of the castle, flanked on each side by a stretch of blossoms painted every color Chrysalis had a name for and more.
“So, how is it?” Twilight asked, pulling Chrysalis from her technicolor fantasies.
“How is what?” Each blooming patch offered a different flavor of floral glory.
“The Canterlot Royal Gardens,” Twilight explained, hooves reaching out to the world around them. Chrysalis imagined a young unicorn foal, barely taller than the flowers around her, wearing the same carefree smile her adult self offered now.
“I think I might be allergic,” Chrysalis laughed, wiping an unrealized tear from the corner of her eye.
“Seriously?” A sudden concern seized Twilight’s voice.
“No, not seriously.” Her head tilted back, drinking in the warm sunlight flickering across her carapace. Chrysalis never saw the joy in Twilight’s eyes as she watched the changeling bask in her moment of freedom.
Their journey took the two of them along the full length of the gardens. Constant stops to admire the scenic displays only delayed Twilight’s study session further, but she couldn’t bring herself to worry about her books. They’d still be waiting for her after they finished up here.
“When I was studying here under Celestia, I tried to catalogue all the different species of flowers that grew here,” Twilight said, sketching a mental picture of the radial symmetry in play with the shimmering sea of foam-colored flowers before her.
“How’d that go?” Chrysalis asked.
“I made it about halfway before I lost the list.” Twilight chuckled. “Spike wasn’t all that great at organizing back then.”
“Which one is Spike?”
“My dragon.” The words were slow. “Purple and green. Still pretty small. Ringing any bells?” He would probably still be sleeping back in Ponyville. If Twilight didn’t wake him in the mornings, he could sleep well past noon. Assuming he did sleep, that is.
Chrysalis hadn’t noticed Twilight falling behind. At the garden’s halfway point, the tall hedges opened, revealing a circular green pasture reminiscent of a park. Flowers still lined the edges of the field, broken only where benches had been bolted down.
A fountain stood perfectly center, tall spouts of water spraying high into the sky before falling into a stone basin large enough for a dragon to bathe in. Coins sparkled across the bottom, glittering like jewels beneath the rippling surface. Though the fountain in the main courtyard bared the visage of the sisters, this one held only an empty stone plinth.
“Spike’s the only dragon around here. Well, he was when you were here.” Twilight called. The lack of a response finally wrested her focus from Spike. Chrysalis wasn’t nearby. Figuring she continued, Twilight hurried after her.
She guessed correctly. The Royal Garden Park had been a relatively recent renovation. Celestia had suggested that since Discord’s release, the gardens had no permanent residents, making it the perfect time to make a change to the ancient place. A “rebranding” she’d called it.
While the winding trail made for a pleasant stroll, the foals preferred to run free in the grass field set aside for them. In a place where kites flew a little higher, balls rolled a little farther, and ponies’ laughter never seemed to fade, the image of the former changeling queen, knelt in the grass should’ve been horrifying.
Something wasn’t right with Chrysalis, and Twilight noticed instantly. “Is it your leg? I can have a few ponies carry you back to your room if—”
“Gravestones should have names, Twilight. Don’t you think?”
Twilight took a cautious first step onto the field. She found her gaze drawn to the fountain. Specifically, to the stone altar above it. It had been built to hold a statue the size and shape of a draconequus. A changeling queen would look just as nice.
“I suppose gravestone might be a little harsh. I guess I wouldn’t actually be dead.” She didn’t sound reassured. “No. I’d be a trophy, to be admired whenever you felt bored or nostalgic. What a bright future.”
“I wouldn’t admire it.” Twilight made herself smaller.
“You will,” Chrysalis said, a new confidence in her voice.
Twilight took another step closer. She felt a desire to curl up beside Chrysalis, whispering in her ear that everything would be okay, just as Celestia had done in her student’s youth.
“I swear to you that I won’t. Chrysalis, I think I was wrong about you—"
“I’ve been lying to you Twilight,” Chrysalis blurted. She kept her back to Twilight, unable to bear the weight of the princess’ interrupted confession.
The chirping birds and babbling fountain fell silent.
“About what?” Twilight asked. She stopped halfway between Chrysalis and the garden trail.
“About Celestia.”
Silence. The loudest silence she’d ever heard.
“I know what I did to her. I know how to stop it.”
“And when did you intend on telling me this?” Twilight’s voice shifted in line with the swirl of emotion building in her chest.
“I . . . I wasn’t,” Chrysalis admitted. “I wasn’t going to tell you. I’m sorry.”
Twilight wanted to feel used. To let her anger fester until it released in a long string of language as colorful as her journey here. She wanted to drown in her own tears. Regardless of her desires, she didn’t feel anything.
“Why?” Twilight’s throat felt as numb as the rest of her.
“Why?” Twilight stepped a little closer this time.
“I . . .”
“I thought you’d changed.”
Chrysalis held her breath. Or maybe she’d simply forgotten how to breathe.
“But I guess that’s just what you wanted me to think, isn’t it? Even after all of this, it’s still just a game to you, isn’t it? And here I am, all too happy to be a pawn. That’s all I am to you. That’s all I’ll ever be to you.”
“No, let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” Twilight spat in a fruitless effort to clear the rotten taste from her tongue. “Tell me how to save Celestia.”
“You can’t, Twilight.”
“You can tell me, or you can tell Luna. She won’t ask as nicely.” Twilight’s wings dipped, hooves shook, breathing turned erratic.
Chrysalis sighed. “A life for a life.” She watched her own reflection in the waves. The blurred creature staring back sickened her.
“Quit talking in riddles. Tell me how to save my princess.”
“Changelings are powerful creatures, Twilight. Thorax thought he’d stumbled onto something new. The ability to share love instead of taking it.”
“What does that have to do with—”
Chrysalis squeezed her eyes shut. “It works for other emotions too. Love. Anger. Fear. Hatred.”
“You poisoned her . . . “
“With hatred. Complete and utter hatred. The desire to end her life in horrible agony.”
“How do I fix it.”
Chrysalis’ words sank in her chest like stones, requiring her to force them out with any strength she could muster. “A changeling’s love. All of it.”
The finality in the creature’s voice told Twilight everything she needed to know. A sickening thought brewed in the alicorn, formed from rage boiling in her stomach. “Luna needs to know this.” Twilight turned to leave.
“No!” Chrysalis screamed. She spun to face Twilight, her knee twisting at an odd angle. Dark lines streaked down her blackened muzzle. “You can’t.”
“Give me one good reason.”
“She’ll hurt them, Twilight.” The queen threw herself down into the dirt. Blades of grass pricked against her face as she lay there, quivering.
“No. Your changelings won’t suffer for your sins.”
Chrysalis’ breath hitched. The words weighed heavy on Twilight, more than any saddlebag could ever hope to challenge. She retraced her steps back to the garden path, leaving the sobbing beast to her fate within the confines of the park.
The second half of the gardens had withered in the time since Twilight had arrived. The flowers had already begun to wilt, their hues bleeding into a mass of pale gray and brown. The birds’ song sounded off-key. The morning wind felt unbearably cold. Finally, Twilight arrived at the beginning of the path, where the sisters kept watch over the front gates with their petrified figures.
“You two.” Twilight stopped at the threshold of palace doors.
The two guards keeping watch snapped to attention.
“Chrysalis is in the park out back. Take a few others with you and have her taken to her room. If she resists, you don’t have to be gentle.”
She didn’t wait for a response, and the armored ponies didn’t offer one. Instead, they watched the princess leave, leading a defiant war path into the castle. When she finally stepped out of sight, the guards realized they had been holding their breath.
“How was your day out, Twilight?” Luna asked.
She and Fluttershy were already seated at the dining table. Their mostly polished dishes had been pushed aside, waiting for a servant to see to it.
A faint purple aura enveloped the door, jerking it closed. Twilight refused to lock eyes with either of them, instead silently claiming her seat and resting her head against the placemat.
“I take it Chrysalis didn’t take your ‘vacation’ as well as you’d hoped.”
Luna tried to sound sympathetic, but her soft tone only added fuel to Twilight’s fury. Her only rebuttal toward the princess was a deadly glare. Fluttershy stayed quiet, terrified of sparking the powder keg building in the purple pony. Luna didn’t blame her. For the innumerable time, she wished Celestia were here. She always knew what to do in situations like this.
“Fluttershy?” Luna turned carefully from the younger princess, smiling at her guest instead.
“Y- yes, Princess?”
Luna polished her best Celestia impression with a deep breath. “Would you mind bringing a message to kitchen staff? I want them to prepare you your choice of dessert, to celebrate the last night of your visit here. Tell them you have all the authority of the royal princess.” Luna winked.
“Right.” Fluttershy tapped her hoof against the floor gently, as if it might fall away if she applied to much pressure. “I’ll get right on that . . . Princess.” She broke for the kitchen in a full sprint. With her out of the way, Luna returned her efforts toward Twilight.
“Tell me what happened.”
Twilight slammed her forelegs into the table. Luna lurched upward, startled by the sudden violence. A bodiless dark claw plucked her wineglass from the table before it could spill a drop of the vintage. A fork rattled onto the stone somewhere below.
“She lied,” Twilight roared.
Luna frowned beneath her figurative mask. She tried her best to sound professional, but couldn’t keep worry from bleeding into her words. “Deceit is a changeling’s bread and butter, Twilight. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
“I thought she’d changed.” Twilight deflated, throwing herself down into her chair, pressing a hoof to her forehead. The wood groaned under the force. “I was starting to think she liked me, that we could’ve been . . .”
“Friends?” Luna asked.
Twilight knew that answer should have been right, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it.
“What did she say?” Luna prodded, sipping from her glass.
“She knows what’s wrong with Celestia. She knows how to fix it, too.” A sliver of doubt stuck in Twilight’s mind. Her flailing emotions wanted to allow Chrysalis the benefit of the doubt, but the few remaining shreds of logical thought screamed that it would be a mistake.
“She does?” Hope welled in Luna’s core. Even as sleep-deprived as she was, the thought of her sister back at her side opened a spring of energy she didn’t know she had. For Twilight’s sake, though, she kept her face stone solid.
“And she knew it the whole time. I can’t believe she lied to us like that. I guess that makes me Equestria’s biggest fool. I can’t believe I fell for a changeling.”
A changeling’s tricks, Luna corrected mentally. She could forgive a few grammatical errors given the stressful situation. “Twilight, you can’t blame yourself for this. Chrysalis has had a longer life than any other changeling. She knows she can use your good nature against you.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Twilight bemoaned. She leaned back in her chair. Luna could almost see the steam venting from the alicorn. “I just hoped she could be different.”
“Some people don’t change.” Luna stood and wrapped her hooves around Twilight. “You did your best. No one else would’ve given Chrysalis another chance.” She squeezed the little pony. “She didn’t deserve it.”
“That’s not all that’s bothering me,” Twilight said when Luna finally released her.
“Then tell me about that, too.”
“The method we have to use to heal Celestia.” Twilight had been searching desperately for her answers. Now that she had them, she wanted her ignorance back.
“Yes. Tell me. I’ll have the guards gather what we need before dawn,” Luna exclaimed, shifting back and forth quickly as if trying to dance in place.
“We need a changeling.”
“A changeling. Well, I suppose we have plenty of those. Is there some sort of ritual to be performed with it?” This all felt too simple.
“Sort of. Celestia’s been poisoned by changeling magic powered by hatred.”
“Hatred?” Luna scoffed. “Chrysalis’ handiwork, right? Even after Celestia tried to save her, she hated her. She’s truly a hopeless creature.”
“If a changeling can channel enough love to power their magic, they can heal the poison.”
“Love, specifically?” Luna tapped her chin. “I suppose it is the most powerful of their emotions. This spell must require a great deal of energy.”
“All of it. There’s a high chance they won’t survive.” Twilight hung her head.
“A steep price.” Luna turned solemn.
“One we can’t ask a changeling to make.”
“What about Chrysalis herself?”
A rumble of thunder tore through Twilight’s head, yet another symptom of the storm within. She massaged around the base of her horn to quell the turbulence. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
“What’s wrong with that, shouldn’t a changeling queen be powerful enough?” Luna seemed so clinical. Twilight felt her fur bristle
“How can you say that so calmly?” Twilight burst, half crying, half yelling. She studied a strange design on the door in the opposite direction of Luna. “How can you kill her so easily?”
“She’s made her choices, Twilight. If a changeling’s life must be taken, shouldn’t it be the one responsible for it? Or would you have me choose another to bear her weight?” Luna’s comment briefly registered as a threat, but Twilight wiped that notion away.
“What if there’s another way?” Twilight begged.
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t try to find another way.” Luna’s mask cracked. “But if we run out of options, we won’t have a choice. Don’t you want to protect Equestria? Don’t you want to protect Celestia?”
Twilight’s anger resurfaced. She slammed a hoof down on the table, rattling the fall decorations that’d been scattered across it.
Luna waited for the noise to settle. “Why are you so opposed to this, Twilight?”
“I don’t want her to die,” Twilight screamed, burying her head into her chest. “I care about her, Luna.”
“Even after everything she did to you?”
“I know she lied, I know she hurt Celestia, and I know I should hate her for it, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t do it. I can’t hate her. Not anymore.”
“It’s not just about her lying, Twilight. How many ponies do you think the changelings hurt at her command? These are your subjects now, Twilight. They look up to you and count on you. And that’s not even mentioning everything she did to your family, or what she did to you. Or have you forgotten?” Luna had reached the end of her rope and plunged even further. Her royal mask had all but shattered.
“I haven’t.” Twilight reeled herself in. Her cheeks burned under Luna’s disapproving gaze. “I’m sorry, Luna.”
“For what?” Luna’s tone conjured memories of Twilight’s mother. Only three ponies in Equestria could pull off a guilt-trip like that. She wasn’t in the mood for this.
“For everything.” Twilight left her seat, left Luna’s disappointment, left a piece of herself. “Tell Fluttershy I’ll be waiting by the front gate for her. I’ll walk her back to the station tonight.”
“Very well,” Luna said, reforming the shattered pieces of her self-control. Twilight didn’t look back.
Once she was sure Twilight wouldn’t return, Luna cleared her throat. “Raven, I have need of you.”
A thestral appeared from the darkness, dressed head to hoof in black armor. Obsidian fur lined his wings and protruded from gaps in his armor. He bowed his head to the floor. Luna hadn’t heard him approach, but she knew better than to rely on her senses where her elites were concerned.
“I need you to deliver a message for me. Take my chariot.”
Thorax smiled at the older guard, wary of the cautious gleam in his eye. “I was told I was expected.” He laughed nervously, trying his best to ignore the second soldier’s searching eye.
“He’s clean,” the second one said. “Go ahead.” He nodded toward the door.
“Thank you.” Thorax bowed. The stallion blocking his path moved aside, never breaking visual contact. The wooden door shook with a short series of sharp knocks.
No answer. Thorax watched his companion from the side of his eyes. “She is in there, right?”
The stallion flared his nostrils. He pushed past the king, drawing a key from a pouch on his golden armor. With a click, the door fell open.
“Thank you, again.” Thorax smiled at the two. They didn’t return it. He slipped inside, eager to forget the encounter. Even during the day, Chrysalis’ room stayed dark. Extra bed sheets had been draped over the windows to block out whatever the real curtains couldn’t catch. He missed the old green glow of his childhood hives. The only source of light came from the bathroom, where a lone bulb battled valiantly against the encroaching shadows.
“Chrysalis?” Thorax asked, poking his head into the bathroom. The object of his search stood at the sink, hooves tense against the marble rim. Deeper into the room, steam rose from a filled bathtub. The mirror above the sink had been shattered, revealing a wooden wall.
“Thorax?” Chrysalis tensed, but her body stayed rooted in place. With the mirror gone, he couldn’t see her face. Thorax stepped past her, settling comfortably leaning against the back wall.
“Help me take this thing off, would you?” She lifted her leg, turning so the buckles faced outward.
“Are you supposed to take it off?” he folded his arms.
“Probably not. I’m beginning to think it might be a strange torture device. Please?”
A silence settled between them.
With a sigh, Thorax dragged himself back onto his hooves and reached for his mother’s leg. She shifted her weight onto her good leg, leaving her other free to lift less than an inch off the ground. He pressed lightly on either side, keeping the extremity steady as he ignited the pale green horn between his antlers.
His magic, in the form of green fire, threaded the first leather belt back through the buckle. Chrysalis groaned in relief as the pressure finally released. The second and third buckles didn’t take any longer than the first. With the device removed, Thorax set it aside. Her leg had recovered steadily. The glassy plates hadn’t grown enough to darken, leaving the leg a fleshy pink. At this state, any decent force would crack her shell.
“Thank you,” Chrysalis said. She couldn’t catch her breath.
When he straightened up, Thorax could see the interior of the sink. Innumerable shards of glass had piled over the drain. Just as many different versions of the changeling queen watched Chrysalis, each one with a mask crueler than the last.
“Do you need help getting in?” Thorax asked.
“No, I can handle that part.” Chrysalis released the sink. One by one, she let her limbs press into the tile. Her first three brought no issue. She sucked a breath through her teeth as the fourth finally received its weight. Thorax stepped away, leaning back against the door.
“It looks better.”
“I’m sure it does.” Chrysalis sounded exhausted.
Thorax watched her ease into the water, sliding down until her body reached both ends of the basin. Watching the stress melt away from her face made him smile, though he endeavored not to let her notice.
“Are you here about what happened in the Gardens, today?” Chrysalis let her eyelids fall, leaning her head back against a neatly folded towel.
“Twilight told me.”
“She does like to talk.”
“Why did you lie to her?” Thorax’s bluntness couldn’t punch through the blissful serenity consuming her. The rest of the room blinked away, leaving only the two of them, floating in an endless void.
“Why did you lie to me?” His thoughts grew hazy. He could feel the heat against her skin, the weightlessness of her body in the water.
“What would you have done if I’d told you?” Thorax’s anxiety washed over hers.
“Probably tell Twilight.”
“I should have told her you didn’t know. I can only imagine what she put you through.”
“She wasn’t thrilled.”
“I didn’t want you doing anything stupid. I know how much you love to.”
The two of them shared a synchronized chuckle.
“I’ve matured a great deal since then.” Thorax feigned insult.
“I’m still your elder. Several lifetimes of experience trump whatever you’ve got.” She smiled. “Did you hear anything from Luna?”
“She keeps her guard up around me. She is better at hiding her emotions than you are. Most of the time, at least. I was pretty confident Celestia trusted me. I even convinced her to bring you home. I genuinely don’t know with Luna, though.”
“Of course, that was your handiwork. You never cease to make things hard on me, do you?”
“I like to make your life interesting.”
“She probably hates me. I wouldn’t blame her.”
Thorax didn’t have an answer. As the crowned Princess of Friendship, it would take a serious mean streak to break Twilight’s confidence. Unfortunately, a serious mean streak described Chrysalis perfectly, especially for the ponies.
Years’ worth of dialogue had built in the distance between them. The questions haunting Thorax weighed on his tongue. Questions of her life, of where she’d been, of what had injured her, but he couldn’t find the resolve to break the sacred silence that had settled.
Not a single soul could predict what horrors awaited them past dawn’s horizon. Here, in Chrysalis’ company, they didn’t matter.
Twilight loved stargazing. They flickered like candles in the dark, using all their might to shine across galaxies to greet her when she felt loneliest. During many of her late study sessions, she had watched the moon arc through the glittering veil of night, her constant companion. Now, its off-white glow held no solace for her, as if it had heard Luna’s anger from where it listened high above.
“Twilight?” Fluttershy’s calm voice drew Twilight back down to the earth.
“Fluttershy.” She hid behind a simple smile.
“Is everything alright?”
The pegasus had her saddlebags slung across her back. They looked considerably more packed than Twilight’s but felt far lighter.
“Of course. Just a bad mood. I feel much better now.” It wasn’t a complete lie. “Did the kitchen staff make you something for the road?”
“Cupcakes,” Fluttershy said proudly. “I planned on bringing them back to share with the rest of the girls.” She poked at the box of sweets sticking from the top of her pack.
“I’m sure they’ll love them.”
Twilight started the journey out through those golden gates, onto the main street that bisected Canterlot.
“My train doesn’t leave for a few more hours,” Fluttershy said. “I made sure to get the last one, so we could visit a little longer.”
“Well, was there anywhere you wanted to go in particular?” Twilight asked. In Ponyville, most of the shops would be closed by this time. Canterlot worked by a different set of rules, though. Down the length of the street, windows cast their warm glow out onto the sidewalk, offering shelter from the cold autumn air.
“I don’t really know what’s around here.” Fluttershy tapped a hoof on her chin.
“I know a place,” Twilight offered.
“Is it a library?” Fluttershy raised an eyebrow.
“No,” Twilight said defensively. “It’s a bookstore.”
Fluttershy giggled. The sweet sound drowned out Twilight’s uncertainty.
“Sounds like a plan.” Fluttershy hopped to Twilight’s side. “Lead the way.”
The two continued down the main road a short way. Dozens of small side streets broke away, stretching out from the castle like the branches of an ancient tree with the castle as its roots. The deeper into the tangle of cobblestone they went, the smaller the shops became. Other ponies marveled at the princess as she passed. Twilight had seen a few of them around the city before, either from the parades or parties she sometimes attended.
The few faces she knew familiarly belonged to the nobles often seen within royal court hearings. A few of them stopped to converse. Celestia had tried to teach her the important names, but Twilight found herself blanking on this particular blue stallion.
“Will you be attending the Gala this year?” he asked.
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Twilight cooed.
“Everyone is clamoring to learn the theme for this year,” The mare beside him explained. “We’ve been meaning to speak with Celestia about our ideas, but she hasn’t held her court for a few days now. Is she well?”
The finely dressed entourage was far too enamored with the princess’ answer to notice Fluttershy wince. Twilight didn’t have to see it; she could feel it. Luckily, she had been training to mingle with high society. In public, Twilight’s royal visage never wavered.
“She’s been rather busy with her duties,” Twilight lied.
“I see. That’s certainly understandable,” The stallion agreed. “It can be a thankless job. Give her our regards when you see her, would you?”
“Of course.” The two groups exchanged a low bow before being on their way. Fluttershy’s pace had slowed dramatically.
“How do you do that?” Fluttershy asked, planting her hooves firmly on the ground.
“Do what?” Twilight made it a few feet further before realizing she didn’t hear a second set of steps beside hers on the empty avenue.
“Hide the truth like that.” Fluttershy examined her reflection in the glass of a nearby storefront.
“It’s something you learn as a princess,” Twilight shrugged nonchalantly.
“You make it look so easy.” She turned to face herself head-on.
“It’s not easy.” Twilight joined her in staring into the abyss. “It takes a lot of practice. What’s the real question you want to ask?”
“What should I tell everyone else back home? I don’t think I can hide it like that.”
Twilight watched the mannequins in the window. Silk finery lined the shop’s window, each piece hand-stitched and fitted with gemstones. A signature Twilight recognized almost instantly. She understood Fluttershy’s sudden shift.
“I don’t know. Luna wants to keep this all hidden.”
“I think it’ll be a lot worse if everypony has to find out the hard way,” Fluttershy shifted her saddle to one side.
“Maybe.” Twilight took a deep breath.
“Your friends care about you. We wouldn’t want you to have to deal with all of this by yourself.” Fluttershy inched closer to Twilight.
“I know, but you all have your own worries. Besides, Luna’s already mad at me as it is.”
The concerned pegasus filed a mental note to ask about Luna later, once all of this had blown over.
“We’re your friends, Twilight. We’re always going to worry about you.” She wrapped a wing over the princess. “You know that, don’t you?”
“I do.” Twilight leaned on Fluttershy’s shoulder.
“I’ll do my best to keep quiet if that’s what you really want.”
Twilight weighed her options. While she saw it more as an occupational hazard, she didn’t like lying to other ponies. That disdain increased a thousand-fold where her friends were involved. Stressing them out over something like this didn’t seem to be the best choice, either.
“I think that would be best.” Twilight pulled away. “Now, we should keep moving. I don’t want us to be late.”
“Alright.” Fluttershy perked up.
The road continued a little further before ending in a small court. Several of the buildings on the block had switched off their lights, leaving only the iron lamps lining the street to guide the way.
“Shoot,” Twilight frowned at the gate drawn over the bookstore’s front door as if it would spontaneously spring open at her spite. “The store is already closed for the night. I was hoping to send you back with the newest copy of Daring Do for Rainbow. Looks like that plan is shot.”
“You can always bring it when you come home,” Fluttershy suggested, secretly relieved.
“I guess so.” A startling thought gnawed at Twilight. “Well, we’ve still got time to waste. Any ideas?”
Fluttershy answered her question by pointing to a white brick building across the street from a short way back. A red-and-white striped awning above the door reminded them of a circus tent. Twilight didn’t have anywhere else to be. As they drew closer, she realized the strange décor of the building marked it as an ice cream vendor. Even the refrigerated air of the frozen goods shop felt warmer than it did outside.
The inside looked as stereotypical as Twilight could imagine an ice cream parlor: empty red booths lined two of the four walls. A small section of the back corner had been cordoned off by a countertop, complete with a glass display containing over a dozen multi-gallon cylinders, each with their own flavor of icy delicacy. Behind the bar, an older green stallion waited. Lost within a thousand-yard stare, the worker wiped a wet rag lazily over a clean section of marble.
“Mister Swirl?” Twilight asked.
Pistachio Swirl, as the nametag on his collar displayed, snapped to attention, shocked from his slumber. Noticing his new customers, he straightened himself, smoothing the wrinkles in his apron with a free hoof.
“Princess Twilight? Lady Fluttershy? What can I do for you fine young mares this evening?” He struggled to rise from a shallow bow.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been called Lady Fluttershy,” She said, blushing behind her wing.
“Apologies, I didn’t mean to offend, you just caught me a little bit off guard.” He laughed nervously.
“No worries.” Twilight waved a hoof in his direction. “We just stopped by for a treat before Fluttershy went home.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place. We’ve got the best ice cream in Canterlot, all made right here in this shop,” He announced proudly, then quickly added, “No offense to your staff in the palace, of course.”
“It’s certainly an impressive array.” Twilight admired the rainbow of different colors stored behind the glass, almost identically to how she had when her mother would take her and her brother out for their birthday to a shop just like this one. “Our staff in the castle can’t compete.”
“So, what’ll it be?” He retrieved a scoop from a bucket of fresh water.
“Do you know what you want?” Twilight turned to Fluttershy.
“I’ll just have a scoop of chocolate on a cone, please.”
“Right away.” He produced a waffle cone from one of the cupboards. The lump of chocolate fit snugly on top of it, sinking slowly down further toward the bottom point. “And you, Princess?”
“Vanilla. Two scoops in a bowl, if that’s alright.”
“Sure thing.” He rinsed the remaining chocolate off in the sink before adding the princess’ order to a clear plastic bowl. All three of the ponies made their way to the register at the end of the bar. The two mares accepted their respective desserts from the server.
“How much?” Twilight asked, fishing a coin purse from her bag while her dish floated nearby.
“Oh, Princess, you don’t have to . . .” He adjusted his hat.
“I insist.”
“Six bits,” He admitted, ashamed.
Twilight deposited the small golden coins on the counter with a friendly, “Thank you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Princess. You two enjoy your night.”
The two of them found a table closer to the door. The small white table wobbled slightly, but not enough to endanger their meal. The two chairs tucked beneath it were framed with curly silver metal with a red cushion for a seat.
Twilight settled in her seat, shifting momentarily to find the most comfortable spot. As she shoveled the first bite into her mouth, tension shed from her like snakeskin. Relaxing for the first time since waking, Twilight finally realized the beating inflicted on her from the day’s events. Her legs felt heavy, battered by this unrealized exhaustion.
“You look happy.” Fluttershy smiled.
“Can’t you at least try not to sound so surprised?” Twilight joked.
“I mean it. You’ve been on edge the whole time I’ve been here. Not that I blame you. You’ve got a lot to deal with right now.” She had chocolate stuck in the fur around her lips.
“Yeah. I feel like this is the first moment of normalcy I’ve had in days.”
“I’m happy I could help.”
“So, has anything happened while I’ve been gone?” Twilight didn’t feel like dwelling on recent events.
“Without you around to stir up trouble, there isn’t much to do.” Fluttershy laughed.
“I can’t even argue with that.” Twilight shook her head. “How’s Angel?”
“He’s doing well. He and Discord have been getting along.”
“Speaking of the chaos spirit . . .” She interrupted herself with another spoonful.
“It’s been fun being with Discord. I don’t feel so nervous around him anymore. He’s doing his best to stay within the rules the princesses gave him. He hasn’t broken any of them yet.”
“Yet?” Twilight asked.
Fluttershy didn’t seem to hear the last question.
“Rarity has released some sketches for her Autumn Collection. She wants me to model a few of them for her.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“I think so.”
“It sounds like fun.”
“I’m sure it will be.”
They lapsed in and out of conversation several times. Twilight expounded about a few new spells she’d been dying to try out. Fluttershy debated the subtle differences in the types of birdseed the market had started selling. Neither of them realized how long their conversation had stretched until Mister Swirl started to close shop.
“Stay as long as you like, I don’t mind.” He tried to tell them.
“Thanks for the offer, but we really need to be going anyway. We’ve got a train to catch.” Twilight said.
“I thought the food was delicious.” Fluttershy praised.
“Come on back anytime, then.”
Little more than an hour separated the two friends from the end of their time together. The rapidly dwindling number of open stores suggested they should start making their way towards the station. Twilight knew the tracks ran along the outer rim of Canterlot, meaning their destination waited at the distant edge of town. Far enough to rival the stars, the castle shone like a beacon. The tall golden spires were visible for miles in every direction, dwarfed only by the mountains to the east.
The quickest route to the station led them back across the main road. A few carriages were still out and about, even this late. Twilight watched a stallion pull open a door for his mare. The two were dressed in a tuxedo and dress, respectively. Her gaze followed them inside, where half a dozen equally fancy couples were enjoying their meals in the candlelight.
Twilight focused on the newcomers. The mare’s warm pink fur clashed nicely with her purple dress. Two slots had been added into the dress for her wings. Across from her, a golden unicorn tucked a stray lock of his mane back into place. Twilight couldn’t read his silent words. The mare laughed, sliding a hoof across the table to take his. They watched one another longingly.
The world faded away from Twilight as she closed her eyes. She could feel the silk of the dress, the heavy weight of the sapphire necklace around her neck. The candle’s warm radiance brushed against her face, piercing deeper into her soul to chase away the chill that had settled there. She could hear the empty conversations of the other ponies all around her. She felt a hoof take her own, drawing her gaze upward.
She sat alone at her table. The empty seat was tucked under the table, where it had sat for far too long. Numbness settled into Twilight. She was alone. Completely alone in this little fantasy. She wished anyone would appear to mend her shattered heart.
“Twilight?” A voice called from all around. None of the other ponies in the restaurant noticed. The signature echo drilled dread into Twilight’s soul. She heard it in her nightmares. She heard it in her recent daydreams. Tears welled in her eyes.
“Twilight?” Fluttershy tapped a hoof into the princess’ shoulder, shattering the illusion. The candle’s heat faded, taking that voice with it. Twilight clung desperately to the memory, but even that began to melt.
“Hmm?” Twilight grunted.
“Twilight, can you hear me?” Fluttershy took Twilight’s head in her hooves, forcing the alicorn to face her.
“Yes, I can hear you,” Twilight mumbled between her squished cheeks.
“You just stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I made it to the end of the block before I realized you weren’t with me.” Fluttershy released her grip.
“Sorry. I got lost in thought.” Twilight shook her head.
“What about?”
About her. About how much she wanted the beast here, by her side. About how much she regretted the resentment building inside.
“About food.” Twilight forced a laugh. “I guess that’s what I get for skipping dinner.”
“I’m sorry, Twilight. An actual meal probably would have done more good than just dessert.” Fluttershy frowned.
“It’s not your fault. It would have been a better idea to eat before I left. Come on, time’s wasting. Let’s get you on your way home.” She brushed past the pegasus to take the lead, eager to leave.
The remainder of their journey happened in silence. Before long, they finally arrived at the train depot. The small brick building looked abandoned. This far from the busier roads, the only light fell from the brass lamps hanging on the platform. Metal shutters had been drawn over the ticket booth. Fluttershy slipped from her saddle and hovered up onto a wooden bench. Twilight joined her.
“It feels like it all went by so quickly,” Fluttershy said.
“Time flies when you’re with your friends.” Twilight shrugged.
“Time flies when you’re having fun, Twilight,” Fluttershy corrected.
“That’s what I said.”
“Is it?” Her voice sounded far away.
“What do you mean? You don’t have fun hanging out with me?” Twilight sounded a little sad, a little angry.
“It’s not that. It’s that I don’t know if you were having fun. Everything’s just a little crazy right now, is all.”
“You can say that again.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “But yes. I did enjoy your company, Fluttershy. It might be the only thing I’ve enjoyed the last few days.”
“If you say so.”
The sound of the approaching train sickened Twilight. The screech of brakes brought the locomotive gliding up to the platform.
“Are you ready?” Twilight asked. She used her magic to lift Fluttershy’s bags onto their owner’s back.
“As I’ll ever be.”
The doors opened, spilling luminance out onto the bare stone. The passenger section looked empty, save now for Fluttershy. The soft red seats and carpet brought a small sense of comfort to the car.
Twilight bid her friend goodbye, waving madly as the pegasus stepped up to the threshold. She couldn’t bring herself to step inside. Twilight’s smile faded slowly.
“You know,” Fluttershy’s voice sounded ready to break, but she held herself together. “I can stay a little longer if you need me.”
“That’s a kind offer.” Twilight forced herself to grin. “But I’ll be alright. You take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will.” She boarded the train.
“Fluttershy.” Twilight’s voice cracked. The other pony froze mid-step. “Tell the girls about this, if you think that’s best. If it comes to it, I’ll deal with Luna.”
“Alright, Twilight.” The doors closed. Fluttershy claimed a seat by the window, allowing one final wave to the princess. Twilight could see the tears start to flow as the metal carriage pulled away with a lonely whistle. Twilight continued waving far longer than Fluttershy could see.
Standing by herself on an empty platform, Twilight finally let her guard fall.
The moon and stars watched, an unforgiving audience to the actor playing Twilight Sparkle. She felt the burn of the spotlight on her fur as she dropped to her knees, the hostile gaze of the universe searing into her skin worse than any magic burn could hope to rival. Her lungs refused to drink the winter’s gale, crushed beneath an unknowable, invisible thing. She lowered her head between her legs, letting her chin and horn rest against the concrete.
Her eyes wanted to weep, but she wouldn’t let them. A princess didn’t cry. The eye of the storm had finally passed, giving way to roaring thunder and crackling lightning. The endless din of pouring rain drowned Twilight’s thoughts, her hopes, her dreams. It threatened to drown her as well. Her chest pulled tight, shuddering through brief gasps.
“Chrysalis?” Twilight hammered on the changeling’s bedroom door. “Hurry up, we’ve got things to do today. Chrysalis?” As she reached for the handle, the door burst open, sending the alicorn and her two guards scrambling back. Chrysalis strode stoically from the dark, ignoring the reeling trio opposite her.
“About time,” Twilight growled. Beside her, the two sentries regained their senses, sharing in their princess’ anger.
“You said we have plans, right? Why’re you just standing there?” Chrysalis turned away with a righteous huff. She started toward the study alone. Twilight took to the air after her.
“What’s got you in such a bad mood today?” She whispered, hopefully loud enough for Chrysalis to hear. If she did, she didn’t show it. Twilight frowned. After yesterday’s revelations, she should be the one angrily clomping down the hallways of Canterlot Castle. She added it to her rapidly growing list of issues to deal with later.
“So, what’s the plan today? Taking some blood samples? Need a few chitinous plates to run tests on? Maybe an autopsy?” She asked in a mocking tone. The feigned smile on her face faded just as quickly as she’d summoned it.
Something seemed off about Twilight’s guest. Sure, the attitude had been an unwelcome addition to her morning, but not a wholly unexpected one whenever the queen became involved. As Twilight glided past her, it finally dawned on her.
“What’s wrong with your wings?” Twilight asked, attempting to sound sincere.
“They’re fine,” Chrysalis snapped.
“Where’s your leg brace?”
“It was getting too tight.”
“It’s supposed to help you,” Twilight chided.
“Apologies. I didn’t realize you cared so much,” she mocked.
The study appeared in the hallway in front of them. The armored stallions took their places on either side of the door as the two mares stepped inside. Chrysalis returned to her nest in the small storage area on the far side of the room, while Twilight checked on her experiments scattered across the table. Neither of them spoke for nearly an hour.
Twilight ached. Occasionally, she found herself watching Chrysalis out of the corner of her eye, not out of suspicion, but worry. At one point, she almost missed the flask bubbling over. She pushed the burner away, narrowly avoiding the pink fizz spilling onto the table. The wood appeared undamaged by the solution. She scratched a note about that on a nearby strip of parchment.
“So, what’s that?” Chrysalis asked. Twilight wondered if she’d been caught staring.
“She does speak,” Twilight mused.
“I can go back to sitting silently in the corner if that’s what you wish.” Chrysalis shrugged and curled back up.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Twilight shook her head.
“Then how did you mean it?” Chrysalis rose to her feet, forcing Twilight to step back involuntarily. The small gesture didn’t go unnoticed.
“It’s my newest creation. I’m hoping it can counteract your magic.”
“What?”
“This.” Twilight held out the potion for her to see. “Want to help me test it?”
“No. I really don’t.”
Twilight set the brew back on its holder. “Alright, we need to talk.”
“Convenient isn’t it? Please tell me, what brilliant thoughts are rattling around in the royal little head of yours.”
“What is wrong with you today? What do you have to be so upset about?” Twilight stepped forward, trying her best to stand up to the creature over a head taller than her.
“You told Luna, didn’t you?” A little flicker of spit accompanied the words.
“Of course, I told Luna,” Twilight roared. “What did you expect me to do with that information? Maybe next time just shouldn’t lie to me, and we wouldn’t have this problem.”
Chrysalis scoffed, throwing her hoof into the air. “So, you’re willing to kill my changelings because of that?”
“We’re not going to hurt your changelings. Luna’s not like that.”
“Not yet. Just wait until she’s desperate.” Chrysalis turned her back to Twilight, finished.
“Hey, I’m not done talking to you.” Twilight circled around the changeling, trying to go around to face her. She reached forward.
Chrysalis turned fast. Too fast for Twilight’s comfort. The alicorn jumped back, a flap of her wings carrying her farther than intended. Chrysalis’ face turned from anger to shock as she watched Twilight crash into the table, the sound of breaking glass echoing through the empty rafters.
The force of her retreat carried her through one of her glass displays, knocking it to the ground and sending it scattering in every direction at once. As she fell, she hit a shelf on the other side, slamming her horn into the wood hard enough to send a hairline fissure through both objects. A dream-like fuzz settled over the waking world.
“What’s going on in here?” A voice called from outside. The guards threw the doors open. “Get back.”
One of the stallions spied the princess, dazed and bleeding on the floor. He ordered for his partner to restrain Chrysalis while he inquired about Twilight’s condition.
“What did you do?” The second pony asked, leveling his spear.
“Is she alright?” Chrysalis tried to maneuver herself for a better view of the wounded, but an iron blade pressed her back.
“Princess Twilight, can you hear me?”
“Yeah, I’m alright.” Twilight sat up, pressing a hoof to the base of her horn. Through blurred vision, she watched her escort threaten Chrysalis. The changeling seemed to be looking at her, though.
“It’s alright, Princess. We’ve got Chrysalis under control.” He sounded far too happy about this.
“She didn’t do anything. I tripped.” Twilight heard armor clink as she pushed the soldier away. With the help of the table responsible for this, she wrested herself back up onto her hooves.
“Let me help you, Princess,” The guard insisted.
“I said I’m fine,” Twilight said through gritted teeth.
“Here, let me help you.” He reached for her, but she brushed him off.
“Just go get a doctor. Tell him I’ll be in my room.” She shoved the guard aside and made her way out into the hall. The younger stallion hurried to attend to her orders.
“Let me through,” Chrysalis warned the one pony left in the room with her.
“No way. You’re staying right here until we figure out what happened here.”
From where she stood, Chrysalis noticed a trail of blood out the door. Her anger built. “This is your final warning. Get out of my way.”
The guard lurched forward, his spear in hoof. He intended to drop the changeling with a quick jab, but she moved faster. He had only a moment to register his mistake before Chrysalis lunged. She feigned to the side, lurching like a cornered serpent, only to catch the shaft of the spear between her teeth. With a tug, she pulled the weapon free from its master, shattering it between her jaws. She spat a small collection of splinters onto the floor.
Chrysalis knocked the stunned warrior aside, following Twilight out into the hallway. Despite how often she found herself here, she couldn’t remember the path back to the bedrooms. She stood for a moment, calling every memory she had of her time hostage here. The result was underwhelming. In the end, she decided her best lay in following the splatter of blood that shimmered against the marble floor.
Twilight staggered forward. At the moment, she didn’t feel the glass puncturing her body. The pain in her head outclassed it by a mile. She staggered down the hallway, wobbling back and forth as her limbs threatened to give way. The buzzing that had started in her ear seemed to be growing louder.
“Wait up.” The voice sounded distant.
Chrysalis hovered past Twilight, blocking her forward path.
“Move,” Twilight commanded.
“Let me help you.”
“I don’t want your help.”
Twilight had faced down the changeling queen before. In the past, merely standing in Chrysalis’ presence would challenge Twilight’s resolve. When side-by-side, there was less than a foot of difference between their heights. In combat, the changeling’s form towered over her own. Now, as they waited in the hall of Canterlot Castle, that nagging dread in the back of her mind never arrived. While her instincts may have been knocked loose in the fall, Twilight chose to believe she knew better.
“Maybe you don’t want it, but you need it. Have you seen yourself? You can barely walk.”
“I just need to get to my room and lay down, then I’ll be fine.”
“You have shards of glass in your flank and wing,” Chrysalis stated matter-of-factly. “Moving around this much will only make things worse.”
Twilight tried to stretch her wing out to see the evidence herself, but the slightest movement sent a searing spike through her back. The jolt sobered her just enough to feel her wounds. She tried to deny assistance again, but her tongue didn’t cooperate.
Rather than wait for an answer, Chrysalis drew a deep breath. Her body twisted, lowering her right shoulder to the ground facing toward Twilight.
“What are you doing?”
“Climb up. I’ll carry you.”
Even in her delusional anger, Twilight’s gaze moved to Chrysalis’ wounded leg.
“Don’t worry about me,” Chrysalis said, reading her mind.
Twilight wanted to argue about this. She wanted to be angry at the changeling, to pin the blame on her somehow. She wanted Chrysalis to leave, not just now. She wanted to pretend that Celestia had never found her in the hive, had never tried to save her life. Twilight wanted things to return to normal. Her desires would go unheeded. Defeated, Twilight reached a foreleg around Chrysalis’ neck.
“You alright up there?” Chrysalis asked. She shifted, ensuring Twilight’s weight would keep her balanced. Her wounds groaned beneath the added weight, but she was happy to ignore them. Twilight kept her herself locked around Chrysalis’ neck, hooves hooked together to keep her from falling.
“I’m fine.”
“Hold tight.” Chrysalis took her first step.
Twilight buried her face into the changeling’s green mane. She’d expected it to smell as earthen as it looked, but found herself intrigued by its sweet, honey-like scent.
As they moved deeper into the labyrinthine layout of the upper floors, Twilight’s thoughts of her youth superseded her reality. She remembered the nights she fell asleep at her desk or on the living room couch. She would wake later in the night, as her father clambered up the stairs, Twilight held firmly on his back. As she grew older, she hadn’t realized how much she missed those times.
Chrysalis felt Twilight’s grip around her neck tighten. She felt the warm breath on her neck.
“Twilight.” Chrysalis stopped. “There’s something I need to tell you. I need you to listen closely. I’m worried I won’t be able to repeat it.”
“I’m listening, Chrysalis.”
“I’ve done a lot of terrible things in my life. I brainwashed your brother, I invaded your home, I stole you away in the middle of the night. I’ve done a lot of terrible things. If I’m being honest, I don’t regret it. If I could do it all over again, the same as before, I would.”
Twilight opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it.
“At least, that’s what I thought. I hated Celestia for what she did. If she were smart, she would have left me to die on that godforsaken rock. It would’ve been easier for both of us. Now she’s dying, and I’m here, leashed like an animal.
“I doubt Celestia will be too happy when she wakes up. Luna’s probably already picked out a nice gutter to dump my body in when she’s finished with me. Your guards are watching me with nothing but suspicion or terror. My changelings mostly hate me, and I doubt there’s any pony alive who would bat an eye if they received my head on a silver platter.
“And I deserve every little piece of that. I’m a monster, Twilight, and they all know it.”
“What about me?” Twilight asked timidly.
“You? I don’t know what to think about you. I don’t know if you’ll ever look at me and see anything other than the monster I’ve tried so hard to be. In my time here, I’ve learned a few things: Celestia’s an idiot. Luna’s obnoxious. I broke the mirror in my room because I couldn’t stand to look at myself in it. I learned that I’m sick of hurting you, Twilight.”
They allowed her final words to fade through the empty halls.
“So where does that leave us?” Chrysalis glanced over her shoulder, to the soft little thing clutching onto her back.
“You’ve hurt so many innocent ponies. You hurt my subjects, my friends, and my family. You hurt me. Toyed with me. You made me another pawn in your twisted game. I should have let Luna deal with you back in the hospital. I should have left you to rot in a cramped dungeon. I should hate you.”
Chrysalis felt a warm tear sink into her mane.
“But I can’t.”
“I see.” Hours passed in only a few seconds.
“That’s that,” Twilight finished. She expected Chrysalis’ hard exterior to be less comfortable.
“I can’t hate you either, Twilight.”
“I thought I was just another pony,” Twilight chuckled, wiping her eyes.
Chrysalis’ face twisted into a mischievous smile. “I lied, Twilight. It’s what I’m good at.” The sound of Twilight’s joy renewed her making her weightless.
“Thank you for saying that.”
“While we’re being so honest, though . . . “ Chrysalis swung her head in a wide arc.
“What?” Twilight asked, dreading another turning of the tables.
“I have no idea where we are.”
The two of them glanced around at the featureless archways and empty passages around them.
A puff of feathers shot into the air as Twilight fell flat onto her bed, belly-first. The burning wounds across her flank were finally setting in, only compounding with the anguish in her head. As she welcomed the sweet embrace of death, she felt a strange comfort in having Chrysalis beside her.
“It feels worse than it looks,” Twilight moaned, a slowly expanding bloodstain on the sheets beneath her. She felt a pang of pity for the maid forced to clean up this mess.
“Is there anything I can do?” Chrysalis asked.
“Like I said, knock me out. Smack me right upside the head. I won’t even hold it against you.”
“I think that would just make your horn hurt worse.”
“Then what about that time you knocked me out and replaced me with a changeling. That didn’t hurt. Can’t you do that again?”
“If I had my horn, maybe.”
“Excuses.”
Chrysalis bit the inside of her lip to stifle a laugh, but she couldn’t hide the strange concoction of worry and amusement plastered across her visage. Twilight responded with an upset glare.
“Sorry,” Chrysalis snickered. “I just never thought I’d hear you ask me to attack you.”
Twilight sank into her pillow unamused.
“What ever happened to that doctor?”
As if on cue, Doctor Heart’s voice rang from outside. “Hello?”
“Come on in, Doctor. She’s expecting you.” As Heart made his way inside, Chrysalis planted herself near the fireplace, hoping the embers would suddenly burst to life.
“Ah. Miss Chrysalis. I see you’ve shed my brace.”
“It was uncomfortable.” Chrysalis shrugged. “Besides, I’m not your patient today, Doctor.”
“I heard.” He turned to the guard currently advancing toward the oblivious changeling, the same one who left her with his partner up in the study. “Would you be so kind as to fetch me a seat, Sir?”
The gold-clad stallion tore himself from scrutinizing Chrysalis long enough to register the doctor’s request. He returned a few moments later carrying a chair in his teeth.
“Thank you.” Doctor Heart dragged the wooden seat to the edge of his patient’s bed before settling in and relinquishing his tools onto the nightstand. “That will be all.”
“Doctor, what about her?” The soldier aimed his weapon toward Chrysalis.
“Yes, you may be right. That wounded creature barely capable of standing on her own four legs is quite the threat. At this rate, she might bleed on me, and then what would I do? It’d be such a mess.” He searched vigorously for a pair of forceps.
“Very well, Sir.” The jangling of armor signaled his departure.
Chrysalis examined her body. She hadn’t noticed the wound open on her leg.
“Now, Twilight, would you care to explain yourself?”
“I flew through a bunch of glass and hit my horn.” Twilight turned her head to give her examiner a better view of her injuries.
“The wounds on your back are a simple fix. You may need stitches in a few of them. The horn is a more serious matter, though I imagine as a one-time unicorn yourself, you don’t need to be told that.”
“Maybe we’ll match,” Chrysalis said.
“With that said,” Doctor Heart continued, ignoring the sly comment, “it doesn’t look too bad. A small fracture. If you can manage not to hit it again, I’d say there shouldn’t be any permanent damage. I’d also avoid casting any higher power spells if I were you. Miss Chrysalis, would you mind lending me a hoof.” He sprinkled a pinch of dust over the princess.
Chrysalis took her place opposite the medical pony. “Tell me what to do.”
“I need you to hold her wing in place. Twilight, I’ve applied a local anesthetic, but it doesn’t have the best track record on alicorn biology. This might sting a bit, but I need you to try not to move too much. Alright?”
“Alright.”
“Good. Chrysalis?”
The changeling queen climbed halfway onto the bed, using her forelegs to pin Twilight’s feathers down.
“That feel okay?” She asked Twilight.
“It’s fine,” Twilight braced herself.
“Here we go.” Doctor Heart closed the forceps around one of the smaller shards. A gentle tug made Twilight’s skin crawl. Her short time spent as a princess had yet to bless her with an alicorn’s legendary tolerance, so the numbness kept her from feeling any intense pain. It didn’t make the sensation any less strange.
Heart levitated a small metal tray over his shoulder. The shard clattered against the bottom with a hollow sound. He repeated the process for three other similar wounds. Twilight’s wing struggled against its restraint, but Chrysalis kept her grip firm.
“You’re doing well, Twilight. Only one more to go.”
The largest of the cuts brought little more challenge than the others. With the last piece withdrawn, the doctor exchanged his tools for bandages. Generous portions of the cotton strips were applied over the purple fur, leaving only the largest laceration exposed. Twilight watched the doctor nervously as he retrieved a needle and spool of thread.
“You may not wish to watch this,” he recommended.
Twilight maneuvered herself toward Chrysalis, who offered a sympathetic smile. The pony gasped as the doctor started his work.
“Does it hurt?” Chrysalis asked.
“No. It’s cold,” Twilight replied with a shiver.
Chrysalis took Twilight’s hoof in her own, resting her head at the edge of the mattress.
“Done,” Doctor Heart announced. He sliced the thread with a pair of scissors before returning his tools back to their proper places. A second set of bandages were set in place.
“How’s that feel?”
“Better?” Twilight wondered aloud.
“What about her horn?” Chrysalis studied the damaged protrusion.
“That one depends on the princess.” Doctor Heart motioned toward Twilight. “I can try a cast that’ll hold it in place, but it’ll interfere with her magic.”
“Not an option. I need my magic.”
“Otherwise, she’ll just need to avoid exacerbating the crack.”
“That’ll be fine, Doctor. This isn’t the first time I’ve nearly broken my horn.”
“As you say, Princess.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Chrysalis released Twilight.
“You know, it’s nice to see you two are getting along. I must say, I found myself a little worried when you removed Chrysalis from my care. It seems my worries were ill-founded.”
“You and me, both.” Chrysalis returned to her invisible fire.
“Is there anything else either of you need?” He kicked the chair into the corner of the room and rested his medical kit on his back. “I can get you a new brace if you think you need it.”
“Truthfully, I think it started doing more harm than good. If I put it back on, my new chitin plates might grow back misshapen,” Chrysalis explained.
“You know more about changelings than I do, Miss.”
“You can call me Chrysalis. It might sound strange to you, I know, but it is my name.”
“I’ll consider it, Miss. If you change your mind, or if Princess Twilight needs further attention, you both know where to find me. Or at least your guards do.” With that, the doctor returned home for the day.
“How are you feeling?” Chrysalis asked once they were alone.
“I’d kill for a cup of tea right now,” Twilight admitted.
Chrysalis tapped the closed door.
“Princess?” A stallion’s voice.
“The Princess requests tea be brought up to her room.” Chrysalis waited a moment, listening intently. “I don’t hear you going to get it. Are you going to make me ask again?” She wore her most indignant tone.
“I’ll return shortly with the Princess’ request.” Now she heard the steps receding.
“Your drink will be here shortly.” Chrysalis looked far too proud of herself.
“Is that how you talked to your changelings?” Twilight had settled beneath her sheets, careful to avoid pressure on her horn or stitches.
Chrysalis found a comfortable spot on the rug to lay. “Sometimes. When I was impatient enough.”
“I can’t imagine they took kindly to that.”
“Why wouldn’t they? My changelings aren’t like your ponies. Do you know why we lie so well?” She waited for an answer, but Twilight simply shook her head.
“Because words mean nothing to us.”
“I don’t get your meaning.”
Chrysalis reconsidered her words. “Changelings don’t need to talk. We have an inherent understanding of each other. No matter what tone I use with them, they know the truth of my feelings. Like reading each other’s minds. In a similar vein, they never called me their queen.”
“I heard Thorax call you that the other day.”
“He didn’t back in our hive. They didn’t need to call me by such petty titles. They knew I was their queen, and I knew that they knew. We had no need for words.”
“But things changed?”
Chrysalis shifted uncomfortably. “We can’t hear one another anymore. I’m not part of their hive, so I’m not part of the hivemind.”
“I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
“It’s lonely, Twilight. I know they’re all still alive and well, but it’s like they’re lost to me, still.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”
“I helped dethrone you.” For the first time, Twilight felt bad about defeating a villain.
“I gave you a pretty good reason to dethrone me. And either way, my changelings chose their own path. If that doesn’t involve me, then I won’t stand in their way.”
“Do you miss them?”
“More than you’d ever know.”
“I used to be pretty lonely when I was younger, too.”
“With friends like yours, I find that difficult to believe.” Twilight thought she heard envy in Chrysalis’ voice.
“It’s true. I didn’t meet the girls until I moved to Ponyville only a few years ago. Princess Celestia sent me there to learn about friendship. That was back when Nightmare Moon returned. We defeated her and rescued Luna.” In her head, the memories of her friends’ first meeting played on loop.
“It must be nice to have friends like that.”
“If Princess Celestia hadn’t helped me, I doubt I would ever have met them. And now you’ve got a princess helping you out, too.”
“I suppose. She sounds like quite the pony.”
“I thought she sounded like an idiot?”
“She can be both. Regardless, I want to save her, Twilight.”
“I believe you.”
A rapping at the door interrupted their conversation. Twilight found a great deal of trouble trying to sit up, let alone rise from her bed. She allowed Chrysalis to answer in her place.
“Tea is served.” A young, sky-blue earth pony waited eagerly outside. A tray on her head balanced a fragile-looking teapot and two equally fragile engraved teacups.
Pulling the portal open, Chrysalis allowed the mare inside.
She deposited her burden on a table set up in the center of the room.
“Is there anything else you need, Princess?”
“No. Thank you, Mist.”
With a polite curtsy, the pony vanished just as quickly as she appeared. Chrysalis plucked the handle of the teapot between her hooves. Though unnerved by the easily-broken dish cradled in her hooves, she successfully poured two doses of the brilliant bitter brew.
“Here.” She set the cup and its accompanying saucer on Twilight’s bedside table.
“Would you like some? There’s plenty,” Twilight offered. “You can drink, can’t you?”
Chrysalis responded by filling her own glass and taking a light sip. Pulling herself to a seated position, Twilight gathered the glassware.
“Come to think of it,” She started, “I really don’t know that much about changelings.”
“There’s a very good chance that’s intentional.”
“Well, if we’re going to be . . . friends, then I want to know more about you.”
“Telling you about myself violates every espionage instinct I’ve got.” She sighed. “What do you want to know?”
Twilight weighed her options. “Tell me about your kind. Just in general.”
“Picked a fun topic to start. Let’s see.” Chrysalis pressed a hoof to her chin. “I guess the best place to start would be how we survive.”
“Sounds like as good a place to start as any.” Twilight took another drink.
“Changelings are magical creatures. While you ponies can tap into the magic of the world, we changelings need it to survive. To cut off our supply of magic would kill us.”
Twilight thought of the brew sitting on the table in her study. “What do you mean by cutting off the supply?”
“Unicorns have their spells, pegasi channel their magic through their wings to fly and control weather, and earth ponies have their . . . earth . . . magic. For changelings, though, our magic is an inherent part of us. Cut off a pegasus’ wings or break a unicorn’s horn,” she gestured to Twilight, “and you’ll live. Changelings wouldn’t.”
“You don’t have a horn.”
“I meant it figuratively. Our horn is not quite as necessary as it would be for a unicorn. While yes, missing my horn means I can’t channel my magic as well, that doesn’t mean I’m completely without it. Remember how I healed my wings?”
“I think that makes sense.”
“Part of that magic is how we sense emotion. In my current state, it’s like losing an eye. You can still see, but it’s much harder. I can still taste the emotion in the air, but it's muted.”
“You can still feed, though?”
“I can. A changeling doesn’t even need to think to feed off latent emotion in the air. Just standing near two ponies in love can provide us with the energy we need to live, barely. We can also forcibly drain the energy, which is more effective, but can emotionally stunt the victim.”
Twilight flinched at the word “victim”.
“But we can also be given emotion freely. Like Thorax does to feed me. This is the most fulfilling method of feeding.”
“That’s how Thorax’s changelings feed each other, don’t they?”
“Love doesn’t work for us the same way it does for you. To changelings, their magic is their emotion. It’s why we must keep our emotions in check. Show too much emotion, you’re releasing too much energy. So, while the new changelings feed one another their love, it really doesn’t mean much. Eventually, there won’t be enough emotion for them to all feed off. Of course, they visit ponies enough that they’ll likely never realize it.”
“That’s horrible.” Twilight finished her tea. Chrysalis dragged herself over to refill it.
“It’s how changelings are.”
“So, you need to feed on emotion to survive, but you can eat and drink normally?” Twilight wished she had a quill and inkpot to keep notes.
“We can, but it doesn’t do anything for us. We don’t have to eat or drink like ponies do. We’re sustained purely through magical energy. We don’t need to breathe, either.”
“What about sleeping?”
“It helps conserve energy. We’ll still get drowsy if we don’t sleep, but we’ll never pass out or die from it. That disconnect from our physical form is why we’re able to shapeshift so easily. Do you want me to write this down for you? It will make the book I know you’re thinking of writing much simpler.”
“I wasn’t thinking that,” Twilight lied. She decided it would be best to switch the subject. “It’s amazing just how different our species are.”
Her mind churned out questions faster than Chrysalis could answer them, and she spent over an hour quizzing her guest. For her part, the changeling royal didn’t seem to mind. The questioning continued until the sun finally sank.
“How’re you holding up? Still hurt?”
“No, I’m doing better. Mostly just tired.” Twilight interrupted herself with a yawn. “Would you mind getting the lights?”
“I’ll have your guard escort me back to my quarters,” Chrysalis said, darkening the room with the click of a light switch.
“You don’t have to go. You can stay here for tonight.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you up.”
“I’m sure.” Twilight gripped her covers with her magic, pulling the sheet up high enough to ward off the coolness of the night.
Twilight pressed a foreleg over her face, blocking whatever light seeped in beneath her eyelids. Any other night, she would simply have rolled her back toward the source. Unfortunately, her current condition made that impossible. Still beneath her covers, she arched her back, listening as her bones popped into place one-by-one. Her undamaged wing unfurled to its full length.
“Did I wake you?” Chrysalis apologized.
Instead of answering, Twilight slipped out of her bed, her hooves recoiling at the touch of the freezing tile. Once her eyes adjusted to the light pouring in, she noticed what exactly she had been trying to block out. Her balcony doors had been pulled inward, their purple curtains billowing in the morning wind. Chrysalis waited on the stone beyond, hooves up on the stone railing. Past her, the top half of the sun poked over the mountains.
“What are you doing up this early?” Twilight’s dry throat made her voice rather raspy.
“I’m usually up this early.” Chrysalis kept her focus on the horizon.
Drawn forth by the hidden hand of magic, Twilight’s covers lifted from her bed, wrapping around her like a coat as she joined her friend on the terrace. Below, the gardeners had already started on their daily chores. Guards in varying colors of armor patrolled the walkways, watching the skies for incoming threats or departing changelings.
“Why?” Twilight asked, craning her neck.
“I like mornings like this,” She said with a shrug.
Above, a team of pegasi gathered silver clouds over the castle. They zipped to-and-fro, building the towering grey fluff like fillies piecing together a puzzle. Twilight watched a pegasus laugh at an unheard joke as he worked.
“It’s probably going to rain,” She pointed out.
“Must be nice to control the weather.”
“It’s not as easy as it looks.” Twilight thought back to her days of flight training with Dash. She briefly covered weather control but lacked the necessary intuition of a pegasus to do well. How long had it been since she practiced? Any other teacher than Dash would probably have been disappointed.
Their perfect morning ended with the sound of Twilight’s grumbling stomach. Her cheeks burned bright red as cowered into her repurposed bedsheet.
“Time for breakfast already?” Chrysalis laughed, noticing the other mare’s embarrassment.
“It’s not my fault. I didn’t eat dinner last night,” Twilight explained in an unusually squeaky tone.
“Well, if you’re heading downstairs, I guess I should head back to my room.”
The two of them moved back inside, closing off the sunlight behind them. Twilight shed her quilt, tossing it haphazardly onto the bed with the thought to fix it later.
“You could join me.”
“I feel as though that would get us both in trouble,” Chrysalis watched Twilight from the corner of her eye.
“From who? The crowd in the dining hall is usually sparse this early in the morning. Besides, we can take the long way if you’re worried about disturbing the guards.”
“It’s your castle. Or at least more your castle than mine. Either way, I’ll follow your lead.” Chrysalis waved a hoof.
“Good. Maybe we can even continue our discussion from last night.”
With their plans settled, Twilight started for the dining hall, Chrysalis just behind her. As they left, the two sentries fell into line wordlessly. Excluding Twilight, the group watched one another closely. Still, neither faction intended on starting a confrontation this early.
Growing weary of contesting her escort, Chrysalis inspected the world around her in quiet contemplation. She didn’t recognize this section of the castle. Still, no other guards were here to pester her, so she didn’t mind. Twilight’s confident strut meant that at the very least, she knew where they were going.
“Why are you so curious about changelings?” Chrysalis asked as they turned down a much thinner passage.
“I’m curious about a lot of things.” Twilight shrugged. “And anything I can learn about your kind could be the key to helping Celestia.”
“How did anything you learned last night help with that?”
A staircase led down several stories. The sound of rattling armor superseded their echoing steps.
“Any little bit might help form a new hypothesis.”
“Does that mean you’ve given up on that idea you were working on before yesterday’s . . . accident.”
“My potion? I’m hoping it might be able to counter a changeling’s magic. If I’m right, it might be able to neutralize the poison killing Celestia.”
“If it doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll have to make a few changes. Or we’ll have to come up with a new idea.”
“What about the method we discussed in the Gardens. Have you given that any consideration?”
Twilight sighed. “I told you, I have no intention of sacrificing a changeling to save Celestia.”
“And Luna?”
“Neither does she. I know the two of you don’t see eye-to-eye, but can you try to have a bit of faith in her? For me?” Twilight pleaded.
“I suppose I can try, though I doubt she’ll show me the same courtesy.”
The purple princess frowned. “That’s not a great start.”
“I’m sorry.” Chrysalis spent a moment calming herself. “I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you.” Twilight rolled the words around her head. “And I’ll try to make sure Luna does that same for you. Is that fair?”
“I suppose.”
“Thank you.”
With their conversation finished, the four travelers finally reached the bottom of the stairs. A thin brick archway opened into the dining hall. In her place at the head of the table, Luna resided over the remains of her breakfast, cradling a novelty rainbow mug. She indulged in a long sip of her freshly brewed coffee.
“Good morning, Luna,” Twilight announced, leading her entourage into the room.
“Morning, Twilight. I didn’t think you would be up so early. Doctor Heart specifically instructed me to let you sleep in. How are you feeling?”
Twilight nestled into position beside Luna. She adjusted her bandages and presented her damaged wing. “A little beat up. Nothing to be worried about. Don’t know how long it’ll be before I can fly right again.”
“And your horn?”
“Still in one piece.”
“Good to hear. I was worried about you.”
“That’s kind of you to say, Princess. Really, it wasn’t anything serious.”
Chrysalis and her guards still waited near the entryway, unwilling to approach the royal duo conversing at the table. Twilight, noticing their apprehension, motioned for them to join her with a delighted grin.
“I see you brought company,” Luna said, watching as the rest of the group filed in.
“I didn’t know if you would be here, so I invited Chrysalis to join me. The guards just follow her everywhere.”
Chrysalis planted herself at Twilight’s side, making sure to give Luna a wide berth as she passed, and endeavored to keep the smaller alicorn between them at all times. Her precise movements didn’t go unnoticed by a worried Twilight.
“I must apologize on behalf of the kitchen staff,” Luna said after a long drink, “I admit, I am unsure if they have any experience serving a changeling.”
“That’s quite alright.” Chrysalis gripped tight to the visage of a desperately pleading Twilight. “I haven’t managed to work up an appetite yet this morning.” She gave the sincerest smile she could manage. The pride written across Twilight’s face told her she had done well.
“You and Twilight have been spending quite a bit of time together, recently. Have you uncovered anything of note?” Luna watched their reactions.
“If we’re getting on to business,” Twilight began, “I think we’d best do so in private.” She motioned to the guards waiting nearby.
“If you think it best, then go ahead.”
“You two.”
“Yes, Princess?” The stallions snapped to attention.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“No, Princess.”
“Then you’re dismissed for the rest of the morning. Go enjoy breakfast. We’ll send word if we require any assistance.”
The two stallions looked to Luna for permission. She responded with a bored nod; the lower half of her face hidden by her cup. They shuffled off noisily to join their brothers-in-arms in the next room.
“You were saying?” Luna asked.
“I think I might have figured out a way to help Celestia.” Twilight beamed. “We know that whatever is doing this to her is some kind of changeling magic. I’ve been trying to work from that angle. I think I may have found a way to nullify the magic, and by hopeful extension, the poison.”
“Have you tested it yet?”
“No. I was hoping to get that done today.”
Chrysalis’ focus shifted from the conversation. A young blue mare dressed in a pristine servant’s uniform watched her from the kitchen window. The mare kept her gaze locked on Chrysalis, flavoring the surrounding air with the horrid taste of fear. The changeling rested her head on the table, avoiding visual contact with her observer.
Eventually, the small mare gathered enough courage to reveal herself. She produced a small notebook from one of the myriad pockets on her apron and retrieved the pencil tucked behind her ear.
“Can I take your order, Princess?” Her voice was practically a whisper.
“Oatmeal. With blueberries and a little drizzle of honey,” Twilight said with a practiced familiarity.
“And for y- you?” She turned to Chrysalis, terrified.
“Nothing for me.” She shooed the waiter away. The poor pony radiated relief.
The waitress scribbled a quick word on her notepad before leaving to fill the orders.
“I had hoped the castle staff would have warmed up to you a little by now,” Luna sighed.
Chrysalis snorted. “You said that so confidently I almost believed you.”
The attitude earned her an angry frown from Twilight. “You said you’d try to be nice,” she scolded under her breath.
Luna hid a smirk behind another sip.
“I’m sorry, Princess. We’re still working on her etiquette.”
Luna emptied her mug and set it aside. “There are some things that can’t be taught, Twilight. It doesn’t bother me.”
“Well it bothers me,” Twilight explained.
“Now that she has found her voice, maybe she would be willing to answer a few questions I have been pondering over for the last few days.” Luna’s smile tightened.
“Ask away.” Chrysalis refused to meet either pony’s gaze.
“I wanted to ask about your little revelation to Twilight the other day. The one about a possible cure for my sister.”
“Anything specific?”
“Well, there are a few . . . hazy details I would like clarified. If it is not too much trouble, of course.”
Twilight’s nerves visibly rattled.
“I have nothing left to hide,” Chrysalis admitted as innocently as she could.
“How does it work?”
“I believe I explained fairly clearly.”
“Humor me.”
Chrysalis exhaled slowly. “Then I’ll do my best to keep it simple for you. It’s a trick we changelings are capable of. By utilizing a heavy dose of magic, we can heal other creatures. For most changelings, the excessive drain is enough to kill them.”
“Is any changeling capable of such feats?”
“Why do you want to know?” Chrysalis inquired.
“I simply want to know why this was kept a secret from us. I can understand you would lie, but Thorax and Pharynx? They both know the dire ramifications of my sister’s situation, yet they opted to help hide your secret. I suppose if you can’t answer, I can always . . . ask the two of them.” Luna twirled the silver spoon in her dish.
Chrysalis studied the other two. Every instinct in her regarded Luna as a threat, and the hesitation in her voice struck a nerve. Given Twilight’s absent stare, Chrysalis figured she hadn’t noticed it. “I’m more than happy to answer your questions. I’m simply . . . curious.” This only drew more ire from both.
“So then, do you intend on answering my question?” Luna tried again.
“Theoretically, any of them should be capable of it with the right training and emotional control. The bigger issue is that I’m the only changeling alive that meets either of those criteria.”
“Sacrificing you is the only way to save my sister?” Luna sounded dour.
“Before you go getting your hopes up, I should tell you that I’ve never done it either. More importantly, I can’t do it.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Hostility crept into the princess’ voice.
“Can’t,” Chrysalis said, tapping a hoof against the broken nub she once called a horn.
Luna’s mask dropped, revealing a tired, broken mare underneath. Her guard down, the room flooded with a bitter taste comprised equally of pain and sorrow.
“I’m sorry,” Chrysalis admitted. Perhaps she had misjudged Luna. Or maybe she simply wore a second mask beneath the first. It didn’t really matter at this point; the damage had been done.
“Are you lying to me again, Chrysalis? Is this another of your games?” Luna asked, her voice inching closer to her Royal Canterlot voice. Twilight drew inward, unwilling to take any further part in this conversation.
“No. It’s why I didn’t tell you at first. Either of you. I didn’t think an impossible task worthy of mentioning. Worse, I believed you would force one of my changelings to try and do it in my place. Such an undertaking would accomplish nothing but more death. Perhaps I made the wrong decision.”
Chrysalis couldn’t vocalize her feelings. She felt guilt bubbling deep inside. She had done this to them. She had put them in this position. If she were able to trade her life for Celestia, she would gladly have done it. She would have done it simply for Twilight’s sake.
The kitchen staff returned, Twilight’s breakfast and Luna’s coffee in tow. They cleared away the old dishes and left hastily. They didn’t need to be changelings to feel the emotion running hot in the air. Luna downed her drink in record time, as if doing so would wake her from this nightmare. Twilight had lost her appetite, preferring instead to simply turn the grey slop over in the bowl endlessly.
Luna eventually recovered. “For your sake, I hope you find another way to save my sister.”
“I’m doing my best,” Chrysalis defended.
“I don’t care. Regardless of Twilight’s lax treatment of you, I urge you to remember that you are still a prisoner here, Chrysalis. If my sister does not recover, your punishment falls to me, and I will be more than happy to see it through.” With that, the dark princess rose, making her way to the exit with a pair of her thestrals appearing behind her.
“Twilight?” Luna stopped just shy of reaching the handle.
“Yes?” Her voice sounded tiny. Terrified. She looked far more worried than she ever had facing Chrysalis.
“We have guests arriving sometime today.”
“Who?”
“Princess Cadence and Shining Armor. I asked them here to help you and keep an eye on Chrysalis. Prepare yourself for their arrival.” And with those parting words, Luna vanished into the mess hall.
“I can’t believe she did that.” Twilight paced back and forth down the center aisle of her study. She had been at this for nearly half an hour now. Chrysalis curled up in her old nest in the storage area, exhausted simply from watching the back-and-forth motion. A few moments were spent rearranging the boxes into a more comfortable position before settling in, breaking down what little barriers remained between the two sections of the room.
“Which part are we upset about?” Chrysalis asked.
“The way she threatened you like that. She called you a prisoner.”
“I am a prisoner, Twilight. Did you think those guards following us all day every day were there for show?”
“That’s not what I mean. You offered to help of your own free will. She should remember that. Maybe you did do some terrible things in your life, but you’re trying your best to make up for it now. After everything with Nightmare Moon, I thought Luna would be a little more sympathetic to your cause.”
“Who are you trying to convince, you or me?”
“I have no idea. I’m not trying to convince anypony. I’m just . . . venting frustration,” Twilight’s wing jittered rapidly, threatening to open her old wounds.
“Just sit down and take a deep breath before you hurt yourself.” Chrysalis’s voice evoked images of a babbling brook: gentle and soothing.
Twilight acted on the advice, settling into one of the chairs. She leaned her forelegs on the table and dropped her head into her hooves, drawing in a long, slow breath. Releasing the air from her lungs, Twilight’s body visibly relaxed. A small bead of blood dripped down her fur.
Chrysalis made her way to the shelves lining the wall, choosing the cleanest looking rag from the pile, inferred from the lack of dirt and its floral scent. Pinching the cloth between her teeth, she approached Twilight from behind, dabbing the red stain from her coat, and eliciting a yelp of pained surprise from the mare.
“What are you doing?” Twilight craned her neck for a better view.
“You’re bleeding.” The words were muffled through grit teeth.
“Oh,” Twilight remained still, allowing the wound to be cleaned.
When the blood dried, Chrysalis took a seat at Twilight’s side. She dropped the rag on the table, the red spots on it clashing violently with the pristine white fibers.
“There. It’s stopped for now. Do you feel better?”
“No,” Twilight groaned.
“I thought you would be happier to see your brother and sister. Don’t you miss them?”
“I do. I really do. But at the same time, I have no idea what they’ll think of you.”
“Aww, you’re worried about little old me?” Chrysalis stuck her tongue out playfully.
“Of course I’m worried about you.” Twilight appreciated her attempt to lighten the mood, but that hardly lessened the impact of reality.
“I think you worry too much, Twilight.” Chrysalis leaned back, the chair groaning under her weight. The wooden frame had been designed to hold an adult pony, not a changeling queen.
“I do tend to overreact. In any other situation, I would probably agree with you. Not this time, though. You do remember who my brother and sister-in-law are, right? Princess Cadence and Shining Armor.”
“Yes, Twilight.”
“They don’t like you, Chrysalis.”
“I figured.”
“I mean, like, full-on hatred. An unhealthy amount of hatred.”
“I figured, Twilight.”
“Oh. Sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean it like that,” Twilight panicked again. “I just meant—”
“Deep breaths,” Chrysalis announced slowly.
“Right.” Twilight complied.
“Now. I know that Shining and Cadence are going to be tough to deal with. I know they’re not going to be happy to see me. I’m prepared for it, Twilight. I’ll deal with the consequences of my actions, whatever they might be.” Chrysalis felt far too calm for her current predicament. Hopefully, some of that unnatural stillness could help Twilight cope.
“I just . . . I know it’ll be bad.”
“You should have more faith in your loved ones.”
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
Twilight rested her chin on the table. The changeling placed her hoof gently on the princess’ shoulder. Centuries of experience accrued during her long life held no answers for Chrysalis. She had never been in a bind like this. She meant what she said to Twilight, though. If she would have to suffer for the choices she made, she would do so with a smile on her face.
“Either way, fussing over it does little to delay the inevitable,” Chrysalis observed.
“I guess. Maybe it’ll help take our minds off it.”
With the aid of her magic, Twilight lifted her experiments into the air, replacing them on the table hosting the two of them. She retrieved the bubble-gum pink flask from its ring. Even cold, it still fizzed slightly like an old soft drink.
“This is a potion designed to counter changeling magic, correct?” Chrysalis clarified.
“I wouldn’t call it a potion, exactly. More of a scientific solution—”
“So, this is a potion designed to counter changeling magic, correct?” Chrysalis repeated.
“Sure,” Twilight capitulated flatly.
“Then what’s the plan for testing it?”
“The best source of magic to test it on would be Celestia herself but proceeding directly to high level trials is more often than not a bad idea. Do you know of any other sources of changeling magic to try?” Her previous episode already forgotten, Twilight adopted her usual cheery demeanor she reserved for giving lectures.
“I think I qualify,” Chrysalis answered proudly.
“But you’re missing your horn.”
“I don’t necessarily need it.”
“Oh?” A curious glance from Twilight prompted her to elaborate.
“We are like unicorns in that our horn is the best focus for our magic, but it isn’t the only method we have. In a pinch, we can focus the magic through our chitin instead.” She tapped at the armor on her neck to emphasize her point. “It’s nowhere near as powerful or simple to pull off, but I assure you it is possible.”
“I had no idea.” Twilight said, adding the information to an ever-expanding list of changeling facts that formed the basis for her impending scientific report. “Show me.”
“Stand back,” Chrysalis warned.
With a flurry of spells, Twilight removed anything valuable from the zone, replacing it with an off-white crystal.
Chrysalis spilled herself across the small intersection. Her plates clicked as energy wormed through her skin. The pulse echoed from her tail, from her hooves, from the base of her broken horn. Her face twisted in discomfort, gradually evolving into pain as the green luster of her magic coursed through her. A vortex of emerald gathered in the air near the gemstone.
Twilight leaned forward, drinking in every detail of the show. At her command, a quill scratched observations on parchment. Static building in the air pricked her fur. Curiosity emerged victorious over self-preservation.
A viridian glow blotted out the white tile of the floor and rustic wood of the bookshelves. In a flash, the spell erupted. A blast of power reverberated, rattling glass and metal instruments. Then silence. Chrysalis collapsed. Beads of sweat speckled her heaving form.
“That’s amazing.” Twilight inspected the target crystal. In its place, at the center of a newly scorched ring, sat a plain purple teacup. The long-drawn scrape of a metal quill-point broke the silence as it traced an intricate sketch of the transformation.
“Well someone’s easily impressed.” Chrysalis paused to breathe. “I’m sure you could do a spell like that in your sleep.”
“Well, yeah.” The drawn handle of the cup arched too far outward. “But I need my horn for that. Are you alright?”
“Just . . . need a moment. Go ahead and test out your solution.” Chrysalis sounded the world slowly, as if she had never used it before.
“In a moment.” The teacup’s rim had a small crack in it. She added this detail to the image. “When I’m finished with this.”
“It’s a teacup, Twilight.”
Twilight believed her. Every sense told her the same thing. Her mind told her more. “Not just any teacup. It’s your teacup. It’s identical to the one you used last night. They’re even damaged at the same points. That’s . . . awesome.”
“I’m detail-oriented,” Chrysalis moaned. “I think I might have overdone it a little.” She let her head rest on the cold tile.
“I know. Just give me a second to finish this.” A vine-like engraving had been scratched into the glass. Perfectly. “You can rest while I work.”
She refused to argue. She lacked the fortitude for it. Twilight had devolved, obsessing over every detail of the glass like a filly with a new toy. Meanwhile, Chrysalis let her heavy lids close, surrendering to the darkness. As the clock hanging on the wall ticked the seconds away, feeling crept back into her extremities.
“How does it look?” Twilight forced the drawing into Chrysalis’ face. “Did I get it right?”
The changeling studied the image for only a single tick. The crack was wrong. The ink curved, adding a small tail at the end as compared to its physical counterpart. She opted to ignore the small inconsistency, for the sake of Twilight’s enthusiasm.
“Looks good. Can we get this underway? I think I’m going to pass out or be sick. Maybe both. Probably both.” Her tongue felt heavy and awkward.
“Right.” Twilight nodded, suddenly switching gears back into a fervent focus. She gripped the solution in her magic, hovering it over to where they could both see it. A fresh leaf of parchment settled nearby, quill freshly inked and eager to write.
“Here we go.”
A single drop of the pink liquid drooled from the edge of the flask, pooling at the bottom of the teacup. Nothing happened.
“Was it supposed to do something?” Chrysalis asked. A slight murmur in the back of her mind craved a freshly brewed spot of tea.
“It was supposed to change back. Why didn’t it change back? It was a crystal before, right? Did I imagine that?”
“It was indeed a crystal.”
More nothing.
“I don’t get it.” Twilight made a face at the experiment, trying to taunt it into working. “It should have worked. It did work. Earlier. With your horn. So, what happened?” A hint of panic crept into her words.
“Does it just need time?”
“I thought that—”
A flash of red light sent both observers flailing backwards as the force of the magic blasted outward. Chrysalis pushed Twilight behind her, protecting her from any harm while simultaneously ensuring she stayed on the ground. Last thing she needed was more stitches.
As quickly as it appeared, the red light faded. There, sitting amidst a second ring burned into the wood, a beige crystal levitated slightly in the air for a moment before dropping down and plopping onto its side.
A second page of notes, a second detailed sketch, and a second confirmation of her artistic skills later, Twilight was finally satisfied with the results.
“Should we take it to Celestia now?” Chrysalis asked. The last remnants of numbness fled her body.
“Not just yet,” Twilight started. “I want to let it sit overnight. See if there’s any long-lasting effects we should be worried about. We can check back in the morning.”
“So, then what should we do for now?” Chrysalis checked the clock. “It’s barely past noon.”
“We could go for a walk, but only if you promise not to shatter my hopes and dreams this time.”
Chrysalis laughed. “I’ll try my best.”
With their new schedule decided, the two cleaned up their mess. New tables would have to be ordered, but that could wait. Chrysalis rinsed the bloody rag in a sink and hung in on a line to dry. Once they found the room sufficiently tidy, they left.
Standing side-to-side with the changeling queen and sharing her company, Twilight almost missed her pulse quicken. She recognized the feeling but never gave it much thought. Lost in her own thoughts, she failed to notice Chrysalis’ body petrify.
“Maybe, if you behave yourself in the gardens, we can try to actually go outside the castle walls. I could show you around Canterlot. I know this great bookstore not too far from here. Maybe I could introduce you to the Daring Do books.”
Chrysalis shuddered. The air tasted sweet. Sickeningly sweet.
“My friend Rainbow loves them. They actually might be the only thing she reads.”
She wanted to be sick. Her head throbbed.
“But that’s only if you want to, I mean—”
Twilight pulled open the door to her study. The words died somewhere in her throat. One had been dressed in the finest golden suit of armor money could buy, his blue mane slicked back only to flare out beneath the helmet. The other wore a glittering silver tiara and a matching dress fitted with enough gems to make Rarity jealous, assuming she hadn’t made it in the first place.
“Hello, Twilight.” Princess Cadence and Shining Armor beamed at their little sister. “Did you miss us?”
“Shining Armor? Princess Cadence?” What are you doing here so soon? I wasn’t expecting you until later tonight.” Twilight positioned herself between her two guests and the doorway behind her, blocking their sight as effectively as possible.
“When we heard about Celestia,” Cadence started, “we came as quickly as we could.”
“We barely had enough time to find a sitter for Flurry,” Shining continued.
“Aww, you didn’t bring little Flurry? I was hoping to see her. I bet she’s gotten so big. It’s been too long since I visited you guys up in the Crystal Empire.” Despite her tone, relief washed over Twilight. She crossed that potential disaster off the list. The long, long list.
“So, are you going to show us what you’ve been up to?” Cadence motioned toward the study.
“Nothing that interesting,” Twilight said. Her haste roused Cadence’s suspicion. She tried to inquire further but Shining intervened.
“I get it. Working on some nerd stuff?” He asked, nodding.
“Yup. Just a whole bunch of nerd stuff.” She chuckled nervously.
“We’ll leave you to it, then. We’ll be sure to check back in with you later.” Shining wrapped a muscular foreleg around his sister and giving her a tight squeeze. As he pulled away, he winked, quickly enough that Twilight missed it at first.
Cadence’s pout melted away. She likewise hauled Twilight in close.
“I’ll see you both at dinner tonight. Deal?” Twilight proposed.
“Deal,” Cadence confirmed.
The two of them left, heading back in the general direction of the throne room. A herd of crystal ponies followed close behind, cloaking in their glossy armor and glossier coats. Before disappearing around the corner, Shining Armor cast one final, worried smile in her direction. Then they were gone.
Twilight’s muscles slackened.
“It’s safe for you to come out now,” Twilight whispered, peeking her head back into the study.
“Did they notice me?” Twilight’s attention drew upward, to where Chrysalis had curled up in the gap between two of the exposed rafters.
“I think you’re clear.”
The changeling buzzed down from her hidey-hole. “That was too close.”
“I thought we would have more time before they arrived.”
“It looks like our date will have to wait.”
Twilight’s cheeks turned bright red. “What date?”
“Our plans,” Chrysalis explained. “We were going to go for a stroll through the gardens.”
“Oh. That. I don’t know if I’d call that a . . . date.”
“Our appointment, then. Or our meeting. Our rendezvous. Whatever you wish to call it. You ponies are so particular with your word choice,” She huffed.
“Oh . . . you meant it like . . .” Twilight cleared the awkwardness from her throat. “Anyway, you’re right. It seems like we’ll have to postpone our . . . date.”
Chrysalis waited for Twilight to turn away before she let a smirk crawl across her lips.
“What’s the plan?” She asked. “For dealing with those two, I mean.”
“I’ll just have to convince them to go easy on you.”
Chrysalis could feel the chains weighing her down already.
“You really think that’ll work?”
“No. We aren’t exactly swimming in alternatives, though,” Twilight pointed out. “Luna has already told them about Celestia, so I assume she told them about your presence, too. You can’t hide from them forever.”
Chrysalis sighed, throwing her head back in defeat. “If that’s what you think is best, then I trust you. Can we at least put off telling them until tonight? Let me enjoy the free time I have left.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Twilight consoled. “Any suggestions for how to spend today? You have until dinner.”
“I think I’ll just head back to my room. Enjoy the comforts for a bit.” Chrysalis lowered her head.
“Want me to come with you?” Twilight sank down to her level.
“I think that would be lovely.”
Twilight made sure to take the lead on their exodus back to the bedrooms. Every corner they crossed, she rounded first, ensuring a clean break for Chrysalis. Neither hide nor hair of a single crystal pony could be found on the way. If Cadence and Shining had not clued Twilight to their presence, she never would have guessed they had arrived yet. Except, of course, for the door at the end of the hall, emblazoned with a crystal heart and purple shield.
Twilight felt an odd twinge of discomfort at the sight of her brother’s mark, so much like her own. It had been a comfort to her for as long as she could remember. Now, it felt cold.
“Perhaps you could start a fire for me?” Chrysalis asked, once they were safely in her room.
“No. I’m not burning the castle down to help you,” Twilight scoffed.
Chrysalis turned to look at the smaller pony, her face twisted in disbelief. “I meant the fireplace, Twilight.”
“Oh,” She squeaked. “Right.”
Chrysalis shook her head, laughing quietly to herself. “How did you beat me? You might be the dumbest genius I’ve ever met.”
“What? You’re telling me you would never burn down a building,” Twilight half-shouted half-whispered.
“We’re changelings, dear. We don’t need to start fires to tear down a kingdom.”
“Yeah, you’d just . . .” Twilight trailed off as a realization struck her square in the forehead. “You’d just seduce the royalty.”
Chrysalis clicked her tongue affirmatively.
“Is that . . . Am I . . .?” Twilight narrowed her eyes.
Chrysalis couldn’t contain the hearty chuckle that broke from her lips. The sound died when she realized Twilight was still watching her. Her face shifted to anger, then to pain.
“After everything, you really think I’m still playing some sort of angle?” She asked.
“It is exactly what you’d do, isn’t it? I’m the most naive princess. The newest one. The easiest to manipulate. I guess . . . it’s a possibility.”
“I thought we were past this.”
“I believe you,” Twilight said sorrowfully. “They don’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I trust you, Chrysalis. Maybe that’s the angle you’re playing. You get my trust and I act as a shield for you.”
“Twilight, I wouldn’t—”
The princess demanded silence with a wave of her hoof. “But is it what you would do? If you meant to infiltrate Equestria? Celestia would be dead and I’d be your puppet”
“I . . . suppose. But I’m telling you things are different now. You have to trust me.” Chrysalis pleaded.
“I do, Chrysalis. But that’s why Cadence and my brother are here.” Twilight pressed her hooves to her temples, massaging the impending rage with tight little circles. “Luna doesn’t trust you. You’ve been spending a lot of time with me. Which means Luna doesn’t trust me. She asked Cadence and Shining here to protect me.
“She’s using my own flesh and blood against me.”
Chrysalis’ features hardened. “That sounds like something I’d do. Clever. I guess I can’t really blame her.”
“Then we have to convince them that you’ve changed. I have to convince them that you’ve changed.”
“No.” Chrysalis practically whispered, but her voice carried enough force to rival Celestia herself.
“No what?”
“I don’t think any force in Equestria could convince them I meant no harm. We’d have to look to the heavens.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“Celestia.”
The mental fog cleared.
“Celestia saved me,” Chrysalis explained. “She must have some faith in me. She could make Luna believe.”
Twilight sighed. “Then it’s a good thing we’ve already made some progress on that front.”
“That’s not all, Twilight.”
“What else is there?”
“You need to stay away from me.” Chrysalis’ words tasted foul.
Twilight wanted to argue, but on a deeper level, she knew the truth.
“We’ve still got today.”
The room brightened as Chrysalis beamed.
“That depends. It might take you all day just to light that fire for me.”
* * *
After she saved her life, Twilight would need to have a chat with Celestia. Days moved too quickly. She realized that as the sun started to set. With a solemn goodbye, Chrysalis and Twilight parted. Her loved ones would be waiting for her at dinner. The thought of calling them herloved ones filled Twilight with an unexpected anger. If they loved her, they wouldn’t treat her like this.
No.
Their love for Twilight is why they treated her like this; it’s what kept them from believing Chrysalis. They were trying to defend her. That idea brought less comfort than it should have but succeeded in extinguishing her vexation. She believed any of her friends would have done the same if they felt it necessary.
Twilight stepped into the throne room. The last vestiges of daylight poured through the skylight, erecting a burning halo around the empty royal seats. Here, the aroma of the nearby mess hall finally reached her. Sudden regret filled her empty stomach. How long had it been since she ate a proper meal?
None of the ponies glanced up from their evening meals to notice the princess as she entered. Nearly every seat had been filled. They drew into close huddles, discussing their adventures of the day over a variety of meals set out for them. In the farthest corner, a stallion and mare spoke gently to one another between each bite.
The longing gaze that accompanied each word told their story. While nothing in the rules forbade fraternization between soldiers, that didn’t mean it was blindly accepted. Regardless, Twilight had no intention of denying them companionship.
Twilight opened the door just wide enough to slip through, letting it fall shut behind her with a soft thud. Cadence, Shining, and Luna were already here, prattling on about a new law to be introduced across the Crystal Empire. The room fell silent as Twilight entered. All three greeted her with a mix of joy and familiarity only used for old friends.
“About time you got here,” Shining Armor started, “I’m starving.”
“No breakfast, no lunch, late to dinner, and your brother is still the one who has worked up more of an appetite.” Luna joked. “Why am I not surprised?”
The three of them laughed. Even Twilight couldn’t stop her gentle smile. She trotted over to her regular seat. Luna clapped her hooves twice in rapid succession, summoning a troupe of servants from the kitchens. In perfect synchronization, they placed a silver tray before each diner, bowed, and returned to the kitchen.
The chefs had prepared a salad for the first course. Cherry-red tomatoes and slices of carrot nestled beneath the sliced crisped greens. Twilight drooled at the sight.
“Twilight?”
She snapped her head toward Luna. “Huh?”
“Did you hear me?”
“No . . . I was . . . focused on something else?” Twilight blinked.
“I think we should probably just let her eat, Princess.” Shining teased.
His comment turned Twilight’s cheeks red, but she knew better than to take offense to it.
“I heard you two went to visit Twilight in her little lab this morning,” Luna said.
“Yeah, we caught her on her way out,” Shining explained.
“Apparently, someone was more interested in seeing the renovations out back than Twilight’s ‘nerd stuff’.” Cadence explained, elbowing Shining in the shoulder.
“Nerd stuff?” Luna inquired.
“I was testing my hypothesis,” Twilight expounded. “I’m letting the experiment sit overnight to see if there are any long-term effects I need to try and iron out before we try it on something a little more advanced.”
“Tell us what you found,” Cadence commanded, skewering a utensil through several leaves and a small cucumber slice.
“It’s a solution meant to nullify changeling magic. I’m hoping it will work to heal Celestia.”
The temperature of the room dropped just enough to notice. Cadence turned away, pretending to take interest in something on the far side of the room. Shining shoveled away a mouthful of food, chewing slowly enough to avoid any conversational responsibility.
Twilight and Luna shared a brief glance, simultaneously aware that while they’d grown numb to the pain of hearing Celestia’s name, the newcomers had not.
“Tell me, what did you think of the renovations?” Luna changed the subject.
“Oh? They were quite beautiful. I can see the new Gardens becoming quite the hotspot for tourists.” Cadence latched eagerly on to the sudden shift.
“That was the plan.” Luna grinned proudly.
Shining finally rejoined the conversation. “I couldn’t help but notice a few missing decorations, though.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“There’s these strange stone blocks over the fountain. Seems kind of plain and out of place compared to the rest of the Gardens. Almost like the statue just got up and left.”
“He did get up and leave. That was Discord’s pedestal,” Luna explained.
Shining and Cadence nodded in mutual understanding. Cadence was the first to speak. “So, any plans to build a new statue for it?”
“I have a few ideas of what to put there.” Luna scowled.
Twilight choked, covering her mouth with a napkin to hide the insistent coughing fit.
“That’s what happens when you eat too fast,” Shining chuckled.
“You should listen to him. He’s an expert on the subject.” Cadence mocked.
“Yeah. I can’t deny that.” Shining shrugged contentedly.
As soon as their first course finished, the second arrived, carted in by the same servants as before. This time, elaborately decorated porcelain bowls were brought in, filled nearly to the brim with a golden-brown soup. The salty broth warmed Twilight as she downed a spoonful. This portion of the meal passed silently, save for the rabble of soldiers on the other side of the wall.
“I suppose we’d better get to the reason you asked us here, Aunt Luna.” Cadence pushed her empty bowl away, silver spoon clattering against it as it moved.
“If you wish.” Luna dabbed her lips with a white cloth.
For the third and final time, the servants poured from the kitchen, clearing away the remnants of the meal. Four tall crystal glasses were left before Luna, along with a bottle of red wine. When the others denied her offer, she poured a glass for herself. Her magic curled around it as the same dark claw it always did.
“What exactly is the reason you asked them here?” Twilight inquired.
Luna inhaled deeply, catching the scent of the wine in the air. “We must decide what should be done with Chrysalis.”
Twilight watched Shining’s features curl into a snarl at the sound of her name.
Cadence reconsidered Luna’s suggestion, filling her own glass without ever slipping the relaxed demeanor of a dignified princess.
“She is your prisoner, Luna. That’s outside of our jurisdiction,” She said.
“Then consider it as advice. The two of you know Chrysalis best, so I decided it best to hear your suggestions before reaching my decision,” Luna insisted.
“The first thing to establish is where she is,” Shining began. “We haven’t seen her around here, so I assume she’s down in the dungeon.”
“You assume incorrectly. She is in one of the guest bedrooms for the moment, under constant guard by two sentries.” A mystical claw tapped against the wineglass.
“The guest rooms?” Shining questioned. “As in, the rooms right beside yours and Twilight’s?
“The very same. Her mark is on the door. I did take the liberty of moving you as far away from her as I could.” Luna frowned.
“Forgive my disrespect, Luna, but I think that’s a bad idea. If I might offer some military advice?” Shining waited for permission before continuing. “I would suggest a far more secure cell and more guards. I’d say a bare minimum of six.”
“I agree,” Cadence added.
“As do I.” Luna huffed. “But the decision was not mine to make.”
“Then whose?” Shining and Cadence asked in unison. As the dots connected, they turned to Twilight.
“Twily?” Shining assumed in a hurt voice.
“I needed her help,” Twilight defended.
“With what?” Cadence didn’t sound angry, just disappointed. Anger would be easier to deal with.
“I told you I’d designed something to counter changeling magic. She knows the most about it. She’s been helping me design a countermeasure.”
Twilight flinched at the sound of a wooden chair scraping against the stone. Shining rose from his seat, hooves flat on the table.
“What were you thinking, Twilight? She’s the once responsible for all of this. What makes you believe she would ever help?”
“Because she did,” Twilight burst. “She’s the one who helped me make the one I’m testing now. It shows promise. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without her help.”
“And what did she ask for in return? What deal did you make with her, Twilight?”
“I . . . A favor. I offered her a favor.” Twilight sighed, defeated.
Shining fell back into his chair, a look of horror plain on his face. Cadence frowned, but her whole body tensed, as if holding herself back.
“That’s a dangerous game, Twilight. One you won’t win.”
“And what if it’s not a game? What if she really does want to help?”
“Did Chrysalis tell you that?” He yelled.
“No, I—”
“Princess Luna.” Shining turned to the reigning monarch. “I’m requesting that Chrysalis be put under my watch. I brought guards with me that I trust to do the job.”
“No, Shining. I can handle this,” Twilight pleaded.
“You don’t know Chrysalis like I do.”
“And maybe that’s the problem.” Twilight slammed a hoof into the table.
All present took a moment to gather themselves.
“It looks like you were right, Aunt Luna,” Cadence said. The red liquid in her glass rippled gently in her grasp.
“Unfortunately. I was hoping you might be able to talk some sense into her.” Luna shook her head.
“I knew it.” Twilight ground her teeth. “You asked them here to keep an eye on me.”
Luna assumed a neutral appearance. She didn’t need to answer.
“I can’t believe this.” Shining pinched the bridge of his nose.
“If I may, Aunt Luna.” Cadence set her glass down.
Luna nodded.
“Twilight, you said you were testing your experiment. I take it that means you’ve finished?”
“I have.”
“Good. Shining Armor and I will be dealing with her from now on. Shining, I want your guards watching her at all times. If necessary, I expect you to step in. Twilight, you are not to go near her again. Is that understood?”
“No.” Twilight growled.
“Twilight, you need to let me and Cadence handle this. We have experience dealing with Chrysalis. We know how she operates.” Shining ordered.
“You don’t know anything about her.”
The eerie ring of shattering glass ushered silence into the dining hall. The occupants drew their attention to Cadence’s pink magic aura. Or rather, to the shattered, wine-soaked shards of her crystal contained within it.
Twilight retracted, regretting her words.
“I think we know all too well, Twilight,” Shining whispered.
“Perhaps it would be best if we postponed this conversation for another time,” Luna suggested. “I can have the kitchen staff bring dessert to your rooms.”
“Don’t bother.” Twilight rose, knocking her chair over.
“Twilight,” Luna glowered.
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
“We’re doing this for your own good, Twilight,” Shining offered.
“I know. I just need to be alone right now.”
And with a purple flash, Twilight appeared in her bedroom. Rage and regret swirled within the moonlight reaching in through the curtains. With a sigh, she pressed her body to the cold floor tile. She needed to relax. She needed to think. She needed a shower.
Tonight’s icy breath carried a candied flavor. Chrysalis sipped it in slowly, careful to restrain the power drain. Even the little bit she took made her feel lightheaded. Luckily, it seemed to be diluted by hatred. The venom tasted awful but worked to balance out the richness of it. Only one pony could manage a feat like that.
“Open this door,” Cadence commanded the sentry.
He fumbled for a key and slipped it into the lock. With a click, the door swung open, spreading light into Chrysalis’ dismal lair. Cadence strode forward over the threshold, swaying confidently as she did, a half-dozen crystal soldiers at her flanks.
“Get out here, Chrysalis.” She spat the name like an insult.
“It’s been so long, Cadence. How have you been?” Chrysalis snarled but kept her voice plump with mock cheer.
“I’ve no time for games, Changeling.” Cadence’s horn flashed bright, illuminating every shadowy edge. Her entourage visibly stirred as they noticed Chrysalis hanging from the ceiling over her bed canopy. They never took their gaze off her.
“I’m here to speak with you,” Cadence explained.
“You came all the way up here just to talk with little old me?” Chrysalis sniffled. “I’m touched.”
“Can’t we be civil about this, Chrysalis?”
“Must you ponies insist on making everything boring? Very well.” She clattered across the ceiling to an open space before dropping. The guards drew their blades, startled by the swift movement. They formed a perimeter around her, trapping her in the center of the room.
“So much for civil.” Chrysalis mused.
“Forgive me if I don’t have the most faith in you.”
“I hate to disappoint —” Chrysalis snickered. “Actually, I love to disappoint you. Nevertheless, I’m not playing a game this time, Cadence. Celestia made sure I lost before I even arrived here.”
“Is that why she’s dying in the next room? She won?”
“That was . . . an unfortunate consequence.”
“I think that’s a bit of an understatement. Don’t you?”
Chrysalis frowned. Cadence felt a hint of satisfaction at watching her squirm.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to get the point of this visit so? I’d like to get back to sleeping.”
“Are you comfortable here?” Cadence asked. She kept strict visual contact with Chrysalis as she wandered aimlessly about the room.
“I was.”
“That’s a shame. You see, I’m here to tell you that you’re moving out, tomorrow. We’ve picked out a nice cozy cell for you down in the dungeons. Personally, I think it’s much more your style than this.”
“What did Twilight say about this?” Chrysalis raised her guard.
“Doesn’t matter what Twilight thinks. You’re my responsibility now.” Cadence stifled a smirk.
“And our work?”
“Finished. Twilight told me she’d figured it out earlier today. Luna and I can aid her with whatever she needs from now on.”
“And the deal we had?”
“You and Twilight had a deal. I have no obligation to honor it.”
Chrysalis threw her head back and laughed uproariously. “My dear Cadence. I must say you’ve certainly changed over the years.”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about what you did.” Cadence studied a picture sitting on the shelf. Twilight and Shining sat on stone steps outside the castle. Shining still wore the suit from his recent wedding.
“And this is your revenge? I admit, you’ve piqued my interest.”
“I’m not here to amuse you.”
“And yet here I am, thoroughly entertained.” Chrysalis shrugged.
“Enjoy it while you can; it won’t last forever.”
“I intend to.”
Cadence turned to leave, her soldiers falling back into formation as she did. Chrysalis rolled her eyes, fluttering back to her little nook above the bed.
“One last thing.” The Princess stopped just before crossing the frame.
“You are not to speak with Twilight again. Under any circumstances. Failure to heed this warning will result in severe punishment. Do I make myself clear?”
Though she knew Cadence could see the look on her face, Chrysalis beamed.
“Perhaps I was a little hasty in my previous judgment. Severe punishment? That’s the best you could muster?”
A small crack erupted underhoof as Chrysalis slammed to the floor.
“You think I care if you threaten my life? Threaten to kill me? I’ll let you in on a little secret: I starved. I broke. I begged. Nothing you can do to me will ever measure up to things I’ve lived with. Dying would be a kindness to me now.”
“What’s your point?” Cadence and her followers faced the changeling queen. The guards reached for their weapons as Chrysalis approached, but she didn’t falter.
“There is only one thing in this world that I still care about: the one who saved me from myself. The one who showed me that I could still be loved, even after everything I’ve done. And nothing you do to me will change that.”
Chrysalis had reached the defensive formation, close enough that a blade pressed against her neck.
“Don’t speak to me of love, Changeling. Whatever perverted schemes you have in place for Twilight will fail. I won’t let you corrupt Twilight any more than you already have.”
Cadence and Chrysalis stood muzzle-to-muzzle, waiting for the other to move. The crystal guards tensed; their grips tightened.
“Princess Cadence?” A young stallion interrupted.
The film of tension over the world peeled away. Cadence snapped to her senses, backing away from the tall creature. Likewise, Chrysalis retreated into the shadows.
“Do you have a message for me, Soldier?” Cadence wiped a lock of her mane back into place.
“Something’s happened with Princess Celestia.”
* * *
The walls moaned as the pipes within sprang to life. Twilight shut the bathroom door while she waited for the water to warm.
She studied the figure in the mirror. In the back of her mind, she knew this all made some sort of perverted sense. Chrysalis herself admitted to herself a monster. This would be the exact kind of stunt she’d pull if she were still evil. That line of reasoning did little to ease the ache.
The edges of her reflection blurred behind the fog. Twilight drew the shower curtain close and tugged the chain hanging from the base of the faucet. The pipes shifted and the water ceased. A second later, it began again trickling from the showerhead, building slowly to a rainy drizzle. She stepped over the edge of the tub.
Water seeped into her fur. Heat settled into her muscles. Like hot butter, she felt today’s stress melt away with the rain.
She replayed the last several days in her head. This roller-coaster of emotion had plagued her long enough. She lamented how much longer it would last.
Sufficiently tired with her past, she thought about the future. When this was over, what would become of Chrysalis? Celestia had never been the vengeful type, but Twilight had also never seen a villain drag her to the edge of death. If Celestia woke and demanded justice against Chrysalis, she would do so uncontested. If she never recovered, it would be even worse.
Sheets splashed over her face, caressed through her mane as she dipped her head into the stream.
Cadence and Shining Armor took their place at the forefront of the mind. She hadn’t known what to expect from Luna. After all, Twilight had never actually seen the lunar princess rule on her own. The casual dismissal from her own family hurt.
And then there was Chrysalis.
Twilight contemplated whether she wanted to light the fuse on that firework. Even after everything that had happened between the two of them, she still couldn’t quell the nagging voice tickling her subconscious. How could she expect others to understand her when she remained a mystery to herself? The excitement of her companionship, the thrill of her smile. Were any of them real? Or had Twilight jumped at the first opportunity for comfort during her trial.
A clump of purple fur circled the basin, swirling incessantly. Each new lap inched it closer to the void-like maw of the drain.
Had Twilight ever felt love?
She blinked, her hooves ceasing their instinctive lathering in her mane. Where had that come from?
Despite her disapproval of it, she considered the question.
She loved spike, she decided. He’d been alongside her for long enough she couldn’t imagine life without him. Well, she could, she just didn’t want to.
She loved her friends. They shared their sorrows and their successes with one another. They’d performed impossible feats and seen wonders the world would never believe. Each of them felt more like true family rather than friends.
And she loved her family. Even Shining Armor and Princess Cadence, regardless of their recent choices. Siblings may grow upset with one another, but the bonds between them held stronger than any pain they could inflict.
She loved Celestia. And Luna too, she supposed. The lone princess had mentored Twilight through most of her younger life, taught her everything she knew and the tools to learn what she didn’t. Without her, Twilight would be nothing like the mare she had become.
Luna terrified her. On a primal level, every pony feared the creature once-known as Nightmare Moon. Beneath that royal veneer waited a mare of stout heart and steel courage. And below that remained a terrified filly, scared of the world and desperate to find a place for themselves in it. Even now, she sought redemption for the sins of her past.
And Chrysalis?
Chrysalis.
Chrysalis.
A knock at the door dredged Twilight from her trance. No, not a knock. It didn’t have the repetition or force to be a hoof hitting the door. Instead, it sounded like a lone thud, as if someone had piled something against the solid oak.
Twilight rinsed the suds from her coat before twisting the faucet handle. She waited for the water to peter out before shaking off the excess gathering on her. A towel snatched from the metal rack dried her head and mane before wrapping over her horn like a makeshift crown. A second the rest of her body. A heavy wool bathrobe encompassed her, tying itself in a knot around her waist.
Sufficiently clean yet hardly soothed, Twilight pulled the brass handle on the door. When it didn’t open, she leaned a little into it. The material groaned in protest, held in place by whatever weight had been slumped against it. Short on patience, Twilight allowed herself a little room to build up speed. With a running start, she threw her body against the obstacle, sending her sprawling out onto her bedroom floor.
“Sheesh. Take it easy, will you?” Shining Armor lay in a heap nearby, rudely interrupted from his rest and rubbing the first stages of a bruise behind his ear.
“What are you doing in here?” Twilight demanded.
“I came to talk to you.” He explained.
“I’m not in the mood for talking.”
“Yeah, Cadence told me the same thing. That’s why she asked me to leave you alone.” A stack of seasoned wood had been piled into the fireplace. After a brief search, Shining found a matchbook tucked away beneath a framed picture of their parents.
“Then would you please leave? I’d like to get some sleep.”
“You talk to mom and dad?”
“Not nearly as much as I should.” Twilight frowned.
Shining plucked a match with his magic, striking it. He hovered it gently through the air, stepping back once the first few embers caught on the dry bark.
“I was thinking about going to see them tomorrow. Catch up a bit. Would you like to come?”
“Shining, this is my last warning. You can leave voluntarily through the door, or you can leave involuntarily through that window.” Twilight motioned toward the thin crescent moon hanging low in the starless sky.
At this point, neither of them could accurately judge the legitimacy of the threat. Taking his chances, Shining Armor tapped the open space on the couch beside him, challenging his sister to sit.
“You’re awful. Do you know that?” Twilight capitulated, dragging herself over to join him.
He defused her snark with a cocky grin.
“Did you enjoy your shower?”
“No.”
“How come?”
“I thought having some time to myself to think things through would help put me at ease a little bit. I’m not making that mistake again. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. I almost raised my voice at Cadence and Luna tonight.”
“That’s why I try my best not to think.” Shining shrugged.
Twilight glared at him, but the stupid look he returned forced a giggle from her. Amused by her response, he joined with a hearty chuckle of his own.
“I’ve missed you, Shiny.”
“I’ve missed you too, Twily.”
She scooted closer to him, resting her head on his broad shoulder.
“It feels like the whole world was turned upside-down. I feel like I can’t catch my breath.”
“You’re tougher than you think, Twilight. I can’t imagine many ponies who would have lasted this long under all that stress.”
“Thanks . . . I think.”
“Tell me what’s been bothering you, Twilight.”
She rubbed the back of her head against him, scratching the itch behind her ear.
“Everything. Everything has been bothering me. Celestia’s dying, Luna’s got probably a few more days before she snaps, and all of Equestria is relying on me to fix all of it.”
Shining hooked a foreleg over her neck.
“Shouldn’t Equestria relying on you to save the day be old news by now? I mean, Celestia’s running out of space to hang new murals in the throne room. We might have to build another wing of the castle for all the artistic representations of you saving the world.”
“I usually have help.”
A light blue magic shifted a piece of wood, swelling the flames.
“You’ve got Luna. Cadence and I are here for you too.”
“You three are part of the problem.” Twilight snapped.
“What about your other friends?”
Twilight exhaled slowly. “Fluttershy visited the other day.”
“And?”
“I was happy to have her here . . . at first. She made it tougher to choose.”
“Did she say something to you?”
“She reminded me of what Chrysalis really is.” The problem becomes blindingly obvious. Twilight wiped her face with a foreleg.
“And so, we get to the root of the problem.” Shining nodded. “Chrysalis.”
“Yes.”
Shining Armor pulled his sister in tight.
“It’s just me here. Go ahead and let it all out. It’s alright.”
Twilight buried her face into his coat, the soft white hairs tickling her skin. She started to tremble as her defenses wore away, letting her emotions pour free. She held her brother as the tears streaked down her cheeks.
“A princess . . . isn’t supposed to cry,” Twilight whispered when she stopped to breathe.
“Well, I don’t see any princesses around here.” Shining felt warm drops soak into his fur. “Just my little sister. The same sister whose crib I stood guard at during the night. The same sister who used to wake me up in the middle of the night and make me check for monsters under the bed. The same little sister I’ve loved more than anything since the moment my mom and dad brought her home.”
He ruffled Twilight’s mane.
She waited for him to continue. To ask another question or offer some insincere platitude telling her everything would be okay. Such beliefs didn’t last in his line of work. Instead, he let Twilight mourn at her own pace.
The fire grew to its apex before burning out. As the fuel lessened, the flames fell cold, leaving only a few sputtering embers among the ash. Only then, did Twilight’s anguish finally drain, compelled by the desperate cry for air from her lungs and stinging in her eyes.
“Feel better?” Shining asked, once the tears had stopped.
“A bit. I’m not any closer to sorting this mess out, though.”
“One step at a time. Do you feel well enough to talk about it?”
Twilight rubbed her face, only exaggerating the wet streaks in her fur. “If I tell you, you’ll hate me.”
“Like how you thought I’d hate you when you tore that page from my comic book. You spent all night crying and trying to fix it because you were afraid of what I’d say.”
“You bought two new copies. One for each of us.” A faint joy flickered as the scene played out in Twilight’s head.
“So, are you going to tell me, or are you going to make me guess?”
“It’s Chrysalis.”
“I gathered that much. What did she do that made you this upset?” Shining leaned forward for a clearer view of his sister’s face.
Shining Armor had trained for the Royal Guard since he was old enough to dream. Every day brought intense training and new hurdles to overcome. He ran until his legs broke; he slung spells until his horn blackened. He loved every moment of it. Shining Armor was born to be a soldier. But no training regimen or battlefield trauma could ever match the agony of those three words.
“You . . . fell for her?”
Twilight sat up straight. “I like her.”
“Chrysalis. The changeling Chrysalis.”
“The very same.”
She peeked at her brother in the corner of her vision, the pain on his face clear as day.
“What did she do to you, Twilight?”
“And there’s the reason I didn’t want to talk about it. I shouldn’t have wasted my breath.”
“What did she do, Twilight?”
The princess started at the beginning, telling the story of Celestia’s sudden departure, of Twilight finding the two injured creatures in the changeling hive, of saving her life from Luna’s wrath. The night she made her offer to Chrysalis. Her betrayal in the Gardens. Carrying Twilight to her room after the accident. She told him of the changeling’s regret and solitude, and of the softer side she observed over their time spent together. Of the struggle Twilight felt between her own desires and the desires of those around her.
Shining drank it all in with a stone-faced grimace worthy of a Royal Guard.
“She’s exploiting your weakness, Twilight.”
“She cares about me, Shining.”
“She just wants you to believe she cares about you.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m your older brother . . .” Shining gestured madly. “I just know, okay. I’ve seen what she can do, Twilight.”
“And you’ve seen what I can do. I can get through to her. I can help her.”
“This isn’t up for debate.”
“I thought you had my back?”
Shining flinched. “It’s more important that I protect you, Twilight. And Equestria.”
“And what if she really has changed?”
“She hasn’t,” He frowned.
“You don’t know that.” Twilight crossed her arms.
Twilight watched the last orange charcoal grey, blending into the cold around it. She chewed her tongue thoughtfully, slowly digesting the blend of emotions on her mind. Shining had helped her, though probably not the way he’d intended.
“Are you going to tell Cadence about this?” she asked. “I’m sure she’d love the chance to be disappointed in me, too.”
“She wouldn’t . . . I’m not . . . ?” he clambered desperately for the right words. “I have to tell Cadence. She needs to know you’ve been compromised like this. In the meantime, the two of us will be handling affairs with Chrysalis. Is that understood, Twilight?”
“I think I love her, Shiny.”
Shining Armor stopped. He stopped breathing, blinking, thinking, feeling. Everything stopped. Years could have passed in the silence. Twilight didn’t look at him and he wouldn’t have noticed if she did.
A knock at the door echoed. “Princess Twilight? Captain Armor? Luna requested your immediate assistance in Celestia’s quarters. There’s been a change in her condition.”
Twilight stumbled off the couch, pushing past her brother with a shoulder bump.
The force stirred him from his stupor. He took in the view of her face as she brushed past, expecting bitterness. Instead, he saw the lines etched into her features, the bags under her eyes, the stiff upper lip. Twilight had matured, had grown older in both body and spirit.
But behind that, he saw the worry, the kindness, and the determination he knew far too well as his little sister, Twilight Sparkle.
Shining Armor and the celestial guard lagged, unable to keep pace with the adrenaline-fueled alicorn. Stomping hooves echoed through the marble arches of the palace upper floors.
“I’m not entirely sure, Princess. Doctor Heart told us to fetch Luna. She ordered us to gather the rest of you as quickly as we could.”
Twilight’s pace quickened with her heartbeat. A mob of soldiers stood guard at Celestia’s door alongside Luna. They parted to allow the princess easy passage. Luna glanced over her shoulder at the new arrivals.
“We are waiting for Princess Cadence. Doctor Heart requested our presence. It seems there has been an issue with Celestia.”
“An issue?” Shining asked. He braced for the inevitable.
“I do not know. For now, we wait patiently.” Luna rose to her full height, radiating a forced confidence. A show for the guards and servants gathered around, Twilight guessed.
“I’m here. What happened?” Cadence called, pushing through to join the rest of the royal entourage waiting for her. Her crystal guards fell into line with the rest of the armored ponies.
Without answering the question, Luna’s magic pushed the door open. She vanished into the darkness of the room, followed closely by Twilight, Cadence, and Shining Armor. Inside, the lights had been switched off, allowing only for what little light the fire cast. At the wounded princess’ bedside, Doctor Heart lazed in a chair, his breathing heavy. A few of his medical staff leaned against the wall behind him, their heads in their hooves.
“How is she?” Luna studied the occupied bed with a steely resolve. Her voice captured the medical staff’s attention, drawing them from their stupor.
“Bad,” the doctor admitted. With a lazy wave of his foreleg, he dismissed his underlings. He waited for their exhausted exodus to take them out of earshot before continuing. “We lost her for a bit.”
“Lost her? As in . . .” Cadence bit her tongue.
Doctor Heart nodded. “Luckily, we managed to resuscitate her. No telling if there’s any lasting damage, though. And that’s not even the worst part.”
“Speak plainly, Doctor. There is no need for formality now.” Luna commanded.
“We have no idea what caused it.”
Twilight scrutinized the doctor’s features. She took some cruel comfort in his ragged state. It reminded her that others struggled to bear the same weight of responsibility laden upon her.
“I thought you said we would have more time.” Luna moved to her sister’s bedside, drawing back the covers to examine the damage. The blackened wound stretched the length of her flank. Her shimmering mane, a symbol of regality and hope for the ponies of Equestria, had faded. The rise and fall of her breathing looked rapid, as if forced to fight for each gasp.
“We still do.”
“Meaning?”
“Princess Celestia’s condition has been degrading ever since we brought her home. It’s been slow, but steady. Given that information, I drew up that timeline. I can’t be sure that any of our treatments bought us time. Tonight, her vitals crashed. Like I said, she died in her sleep. With the help of my nurses, we managed to bring her back, but she’s still in rough shape.”
The doctor climbed stiffly from his chair, his joints slow and unresponsive. He took his place at Luna’s side.
“So how much time do we have now?” The three audience members could hear the trepidation in the question.
“I can’t say for sure. We might still have a few weeks . . .”
“Or?” Trepidation turned to terror.
“Or it could be tomorrow. Tonight, even. There’s no way to say for sure.”
Luna hit her limit, dropping to her knees and pressing her trembling forehead to her sister’s body.
“I’m sorry.” Doctor Heart turned away, refusing to witness the edges of her breakdown, a familiar guilt etched onto his face
“I know you have done your best, Doctor. Go rest.”
“Princess, I think it would be best if—”
“I’ll send for you if anything happens, but I also won’t have you taking care of her unless you’re at your best.” Luna strained her words, trying to speak clearly enough to hide the false bravado within.
“Very well,” Doctor Heart sighed. He started for the door but stopped before leaving. “I know you intend to keep this secret, Princess, but I must make a request: when I return, I’d like to bring a team with me from the hospital. They’re skilled, and I’d wager my life that they’re to be trusted.”
Despite his word to the contrary, he hadn’t meant it as a question, and he didn’t wait for an answer. He shut the door gently behind him.
Shining Armor stepped back, his horror masked behind a stoicism only known to an elite royal guard. Cadence and Twilight flanked their elder, kneeling beside her and covering her in a feathery sheet with their wings. Twilight bowed her head, comforting Luna with an affectionate nuzzle. Cadence instead leaned forward, bracing her horn against her aunt’s. Both could feel Luna shiver.
“It’s getting late. You three should go get some sleep, too,” Luna said.
Outside, the moon had only just risen. Still, none of the younger royals resisted her suggestion. Instead, they offered one final embrace before taking the long walk back to their own rooms.
Alone, Luna finally let her walls drop. She plunged her muzzle into her sister’s fur, staining the radiant white coat with little raindrops.
“I’m sorry,” were the only words she could think to say.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“I can’t do this, Celestia.”
She wrapped her hooves around her sister’s neck, pulling her limp form into a shaky hug.
“I never wanted it to end like this,” She sobbed, choking on each word as she forced them from her chest.
The fire darkened. Shadows creeped closer, snaking through the gaps in the moonlight.
“Is this how you felt? After I abandoned you? After I left you alone all those centuries? How did you do it?”
“Answer me. Please?” she begged.
“I don’t know what to do,” she screamed.
“I can’t do this without you,” she cried.
Safe in the sacred privacy of his guest suite, Shining Armor finally allowed himself to breathe easy. Cadence made for the bathroom, eager to begin her nighttime rituals and say goodbye to this long day.
Shining clicked the lock, sliding the deadbolt into place. Behind him, he could hear the scratching of his wife’s brush through her mane. After all the hardships, he decided she deserved a bit of a break, at least. Tomorrow during breakfast would be better to clue her in on his enlightening discussion with Twilight. Over breakfast, maybe? Or maybe that would just ruin tomorrow for her as well.
Before he could choose, Cadence interrupted his thoughts.
“Is the door really that interesting?” she mumbled through her teeth, a toothbrush handle hanging from the edge of her mouth.
“Huh?” Shining Armor turned toward the silhouette of his wife leaning against the door frame. She bobbed her head back and forth slowly as she brushed.
“Why are you just standing by the door?” She asked, circling her free hoof at him.
“Oh. Nothing, I just . . .” Shining glanced around, searching for a plausible alibi.
“I’m going to pout until you tell me,” she threatened, raising her eyebrows, amused.
“It can wait until tomorrow. No point in rushing from one headache to the next.” Shining finally peeled himself away from the door, lowering himself onto the edge of the bed. Cadence slunk back into the bathroom. After a quick spray of water from the faucet, she returned, killing the lights behind her and plunging them into the dark. She removed her tiara, setting it cautiously on its stand atop her table before easing into the bed.
“You’re afraid to tell me,” she whispered.
“It’s not that. It’s just that today’s been stressful enough.” He shrugged. “Get some sleep, we can talk about it another time.”
“Shiny . . .” The springs creaked as Cadence rose from her side of the bed, wrapping her forelegs around Shining. “I want you to tell me. In good times and bad, remember?” True to her word, she wore an overdramatic pout.
“You know, one day that won’t work on me.” Shining cast a glance over his shoulder at his wife.
“I’m sure I’ll have something new to use against you by then.” She smiled, easing his troubled mind.
With a deep breath, Shining began his story. “I went to Twilight’s room. To talk.”
“After I specifically told you not to.” Cadence corrected.
He nodded. “After you specifically told me not to.”
“And?” she asked impatiently.
“She believes Chrysalis’ story. Turned over a new leaf and left her evil ways behind. She says that Chrysalis has changed since her arrival here.”
“Do you believe her?”
“After everything she put you through? I doubt I’ll ever be able to trust her.”
“I meant Twilight.”
“Oh.” He flicked the question around on his tongue. “Maybe. I think she certainly believes it.”
“But you worry she’s being tricked.”
“I do. I did. Until I saw her tonight.”
The two of them settled onto their sides of the bed. Shining laid on his back, staring up at the painted ceiling. Cadence rested on her side; her head held up in a hoof for a better view of her husband.
“What happened tonight?” Cadence prodded.
“I told her that I didn’t want her going near Chrysalis anymore.”
“I’m guessing she didn’t take it well.”
Shining shook his head. “That’s when Luna’s summons arrived. I think Twilight was just getting started.”
“She seems adamant.”
“When I looked at her, though, she seemed . . . normal. Well, for Twilight. You know what I mean?”
“Determined, overwhelmed, and slightly off her rocker? ”Cadence suggested.
“Yeah. I think she’s just as lost as we are.”
“What’s your point?”
Shining sighed. “I don’t think she knows how to feel about Chrysalis. She seems unsure of her own decisions.”
“Like they’re not her decisions, or . . .?”
“Like she’s conflicted. Her logical side tells her one thing, her emotional side tells her the other, and she ends up caught in the middle of their feud. It’s not the first time she’s done this.”
“So, what’s your final verdict?” Cadence asked, nuzzling his arm.
“I want to believe in Twilight. She’s capable of things I can’t even fathom. If she says Chrysalis has changed, who am I to argue with her?”
“That’s usually a pretty good bet.”
“But I’m not letting my guard down around Chrysalis. Not until I’ve seen proof of her conversion.”
“That’s also probably a good idea.”
When Shining closed his eyes, he could still see his sister’s face. Angry at him, sure, but with a hint of betrayal underneath. He didn’t blame her. He had betrayed her, sort of.
“Can I say something?” Cadence scrutinized her front hoof.
“Of course.”
“I think Luna made a mistake.”
Shining turned toward Cadence. “And what mistake is that?”
“Asking the two of us to help with this. Our history with Chrysalis hardly makes us fair judges. I still think about that day. Lying down there, trapped in the caves beneath to starve while she plays pretend.”
“It’s not your fault.” Shining scooted over until their flanks met. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Shining, if Twilight hadn’t figured out her plan, we’d both probably be dead right now. She’s proved time and time again to be one of the most capable ponies I know. And we refused to even listen to her. I’m a terrible sister.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I threatened Chrysalis, Shiny,” Cadence blurted.
She paused, allowing him a moment to process that information.
“I went to her room tonight with a small battalion of guards, and I threatened her.”
“You threaten me all the time,” Shining frowned.
She ignored him. “And the worst part is . . . I enjoyed it. Watching her, knowing she was powerless to stop me from doing whatever I wanted to her. It felt intoxicating.”
“You’re not the first pony to feel that way.”
“I’m the Princess of Love, Shiny. I don’t threaten. Period. I just wanted justice for all the wrongs she’s done to us. But I guess I went a little too far.”
“We both did,” Shining admitted.
“I think we should let Twilight see Chrysalis.”
“So do I.”
“But I think they still need to be supervised.”
“I’ll see to it personally.”
Shining wanted to mention Twilight’s final words. She thought she loved Chrysalis. No. Not tonight. He needed to observe their time together, then decide on that issue. No need to bother Cadence with that tonight.
“I love you, Shiny.” Cadence whispered, pressing her head against his chest.
“I love you, too.” Shining held her tight. In moments, he could hear the soft snoring emanating from Cadence. Chuckling silently to himself, he finally closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
The clock ticked away from its stage on the wall. In the hearth, the flames burned down to cold ash. Moonlight crawled across the tile, inching toward the far wall. Before long, the first rays of sunlight would reach over the horizon, marking a new day of torture for the umbral princess. Eventually, her tears ran dry, her throat hoarse from her pained cries.
“It should’ve been me,” she decided. “Equestria would survive without me. It has before. It will after I’m gone. But what will your ponies do without you? What Twilight would do without you?”
A knot of guilt twisted in her chest at the thought of her sister’s prized student.
“She and Chrysalis have been spending quite a bit of time together. I’m worried that changeling is starting to poison her mind. She’s far too friendly to that criminal.” Luna sighed. “But perhaps I’m simply being paranoid. The two of them are working together to save you. Think of it, one of our mortal enemies trying to save your life. It would almost be funny, were it not so tragic.”
She laid her head on Celestia’s bed.
“Am I wrong? Each day, I find my thoughts twisting further. I don’t know what I believe anymore. For the first time in my life, I’m at a loss.”
Even if Celestia couldn’t hear her, finally admitting the truth to somepony brought Luna a sliver of peace.
“I don’t know what I’ll do without you. But if the worst should come to pass, know I’ll do my best to live up to the example you set.
“Remember, dear sister, that I love you, and I know you’ll be watching over me, no matter what, just as you always do.”
Twilight raised a foreleg over her mouth, hiding a yawn strong enough to bring tears to her eyes. Her free hoof tapped rhythmically against the marble tabletop. Throughout the morning, a few other ponies had shuffled through the door. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee emanated from the small collection of brewing stands behind the counter. The inane chatter of morning pleasantries seemed to echo from every corner of the room.
“May I take your order on this fine morning?” A waitress asked, her enthusiasm far too eager for such an early time. She produced a pencil and notepad from a front pocket of her white apron.
“The coffee smells great. I’ll take a cup.”
The server scratched the pencil tip against her notepad.
“Is that all?”
“For now. Thanks.”
With an eager nod, the waitress moved on to the next table, starting their order on a new page.
Twilight drooped her head onto the table, feeling the chilly metal against her warm skin. As the front door opened to allow another customer, it struck the brass bell hanging above, sending a crisp chime through the building.
“Sorry I’m late. Cadence needed my help with something this morning.” Shining scratched the back of his neck nervously as he took his seat across from Twilight.
“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up,” Twilight muttered.
“You really thought I’d leave my favorite little sister hanging?”
“Remember that time when you and Cadence took me to the park back when she was my foalsitter?”
“You really thought I’d do it twice?” Shining corrected.
“Whatever.” Twilight turned to rest her cheek on the tabletop.
“Did you already order?”
“A coffee. I’d rather not eat on an upset stomach.”
“But coffee is better?”
“No, but I am not going without it today.” Twilight yawned.
“Late night?”
“You could say that. I was up sick all night.”
“Think you might be coming down with something?” Shining leaned forward to comfort his sister, while simultaneously trying to back away from the potentially diseased pony.
“I don’t think so. It’s probably just the stress finally getting to me. My nerves are going to need a vacation when all this is over.”
“I don’t doubt it. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry if Cadence and I had something to do with this.”
Twilight studied her elder sibling, her tired expression hardened as the flood of emotions left over from the previous night returned. She clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth to the rhythm of her pulse.
“What makes you think the two of you had anything to do with this? It’s not like the two of you were directly responsible for insulting and threatening one of my newest friends and starting a fight with me last night,” Twilight stated flatly. Her healthy wing twitched erratically.
Shining scanned the room, checking if anyone had noticed Twilight’s outburst. “This really isn’t the time or place to talk about this.”
“It never is, Shining.” Twilight returned to sulking.
They sat silently, together, yet miles apart. The waitress returned with Twilight’s drink, setting the mug on a small white napkin. A silver spoon balanced on the rim of the glass.
“Thank you,” Twilight squeaked.
“And what can I get for you, Sir?” She turned to Shining.
“I guess I’m kind of in the mood for a . . .” He studied the menu, tapping a hoof against his chin. “A blueberry muffin sounds pretty good,” he decided, snapping the menu shut and returned it to its small space on the table’s centerpiece.
“Coming right up,” She sang as she hurried to the next order.
“You sure you don’t want anything? It’s my treat.” Shining offered.
Twilight answered with an annoyed stare.
Clearing his throat, Shining attempted to steer the one-sided conversation. “So, have you ever eaten here before?”
“A few times. Apparently, they open early enough for Luna to enjoy it.”
“Huh. I can’t imagine Luna sitting in a little restaurant like this, eating breakfast by herself. To be fair, there are a lot of things I never imagined Luna would do.”
“Like betraying her sister’s favorite student?” Twilight tossed.
“She didn’t betray you, Twilight. She’s worried about you. We are too.”
“That makes it okay?” she exclaimed.
“I told you before. I’m not talking about this right now. If you really think we need to discuss this again, we’ll talk tonight. Privately.” His annoyed, almost angry tone forced Twilight to concede.
This time, when the waitress returned, she carried a lone plate. A fluffy brown muffin sat in the center, decorated with an overwhelming number of miniscule blue dots.
“Thank you, this looks amazing.”
The server returned his cheery smile. Her pencil had been tucked behind her ear.
Shining ate his meal hastily, the sweetness of the baked good clashing with the sour presence of his current company. Twilight sipped thoughtfully at her drink, trying her best to hide in her chair.
When he finished, Shining wiped the crumbs from his place and emptied a small pile of bits beside the dirtied dishes.
“You ready?” Shining rose from his seat.
“Yeah.” Twilight followed him out, leaving behind a half-empty cup.
“Things really haven’t changed much around here, have they?” Shining sifted through memories of his youth, comparing each insignificant detail to the street laid out in front of him.
“I think that’s why they like it here.”
The two of them had been walking for nearly fifteen minutes. The caffeine had finally kicked in, lessening Twilight’s malaise. Together, they strode down the residential road, pointing out each familiar home as they passed. Eventually, they arrived at the most familiar of them all.
“After you.” Twilight stepped aside.
Shining started up the stone path to the front patio. Though many of the flowers had started wilting in the cold nights, they still shed a splash of color through the garden. Little statues depicting adorable rabbits and daredevil birds were littered throughout the finely honed greenery.
Three wooden steps led onto the concrete porch. A duo of wicker rocking chairs tilted in the breeze. Shining pulled open the screen with his magic and knocked.
“They are home, right?” Twilight inquired.
“They should be. Where would they be this early in the morning?”
As if to answer Twilight’s question, the front door swung inward, revealing an older mare, grayed by birth, rather than age. Sharp locks of her purple and white mane spilled over her shoulders.
“Hey, Mom.” Shining and Twilight shouted in unison.
“Shining? Twilight? What are you two doing here?” Twilight Velvet asked with a mix of surprise and confusion.
“Just wanted to stop by. See how you were doing,” Shining said.
“We can come back later, if you’re busy,” Twilight offered.
“No. Your father and I were just finishing up breakfast. Come in.” She stepped out of the way, allowing her children into the front hall. Each child greeted their mother with a short squeeze as they piled in.
They continued through the short hallway next to the stairs. Polished family portraits watched from their golden frames as Twilight crossed them.
“Night Light, we have guests.” Twilight Velvet announced, relinquishing her children into the kitchen.
Twilight noted the black and white checkered tile on the floor, complete with a faded pink stain. A casualty of one of her first experiments.
Their father, a handsome blue stallion, had yet to move from the breakfast nook. He chewed the eraser of his pencil, enamored by the half-finished crossword in the morning paper.
Their mother cleared her throat, drawing her husband from its mental gymnastics.
“Twilight? Shining?” He rocketed from his seat, nearly knocking his children off their balance as he rushed to greet them.
“Morning, Dad.” Shining reached an arm around his father, clapping him on the back.
“Hi, Dad.” Twilight stepped forward, joining the other two in their group hug.
“What are you two doing here? We didn’t even know you were in Canterlot.” Night Light released them.
“Luna asked us to come. We would have sent you a letter first, but this was kind of short notice.” Shining shrugged nervously.
“What about?”
“Hold that thought,” Twilight Velvet interrupted. “What do you say we take this little get-together to the living room?”
At the matriarch’s orders, the family shuffled into the cozy living room. Night Light took his customary place in his recliner, while Twilight and Shining hurled themselves onto the sofa. The ancient springs groaned in protest. Though her young had left her a spot on the couch, Twilight Velvet preferred to rest her hooves against the mantlepiece, allowing her easier access to the conversation.
“You were saying?” Night Light continued.
“Just a royal thing. Luna wanted me and Cadence to help her with some foreign guests, or something like that.” Twilight was impressed with how quickly her brother had grasped the royal art of the lie.
“Anyone interesting?” Night Light asked, leaning forward.
“I don’t know.”
“Shouldn’t you be helping them with that, Twilight?” Concern bled into his words.
“I offered, they told me they didn’t need my help with the preparation but wanted me here for when our guests actually arrived.”
Shining gave his sister a knowing look before jumping in. “What about you two? What have you guys been up to?”
Time ticked away as the family huddled around their conversation, delighted in each other’s company. They listened attentively to Night Light’s tale of his latest bingo championship. Shining Armor wooed them with stories of absent little Flurry Heart. Both parents melted at the thought of their precious grandchild. Twilight shared some local gossip around the castle, careful to skirt any topic that might lead to a difficult line of questioning.
Night Light made that goal far more difficult with his next question. “How is Princess Celestia? We haven’t seen much of her these days.”
Twilight opened her mouth, letting an awkward silence permeate the air before stammering, “She’s fine. Been busy with . . . princess stuff.”
Before her father could press the topic, Twilight’s mother jumped up, interrupting any further questions. “Would either of you like a drink, or a snack, maybe? I can’t believe I forgot to ask. What kind of host am I?”
“No, thank you.” Shining shook his head.
“Are you sure.” his mother raised an eyebrow. “We’ve still got a few of those juice boxes you like.”
Shining reconsidered.
“I’ll take a glass of tea, if you wouldn’t mind,” Night Light said.
“Twilight, why don’t you come help me in the kitchen.” Twilight Velvet nodded toward the kitchen.
“Sure.” Twilight followed her mother away, sharing a final confused stare with her brother.
Twilight raided the fridge, searching for the small yellow juice box while her mother retrieved the kettle from the top shelf of a cabinet above the sink. She hovered it into the sink, twisting the faucet until the stream of water poured out.
“Remember this?” Twilight’s mother tapped the cookie jar sitting on the counter. The tempered glass, molded into the shape of a gingerbread house, had a crack down the side where it had been pieced together with paste.
“Yeah?” Twilight retreated, unsure of her mother’s point.
“Shining Armor broke it years ago. He told us you did it.” She laughed.
“And he hasn’t gotten any better at lying to me in all these years. And neither have you, Missy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Are you in trouble? Did something happen?”
In her youth, whenever Twilight had been scared or nervous, her mother would speak in a soft, gentle voice. Hearing it again, after all these years, sent a warmth through her body, bringing with it a comfort only a caring parent could manage.
“We’re not supposed to talk about it.”
“You can tell me.”
“Fine.” Twilight cycled through the myriad issues in her life, trying to decide which would be best to sate her mother’s curiosity. “How did you know you loved Dad?”
The magic holding the kettle in place faltered for a moment, though Twilight Velvet herself didn’t budge an inch.
“Are you trying to change the subject?”
“No. I want to know.”
Her mother weighed her response with pursed lips. “Your father and I met at a young age. Our families were close friends, so we saw each other often. We attended school together, went to parties together. It just sort of . . . happened. Gradually. I don’t think either of us even realized until the night of the school dance, when we shared our first kiss. Why are you so interested?”
“I think I met someone special.”
“Oh? Spill it. I want to hear everything.”
“Well, there’s an issue with it. There’s an issue with . . . her.”
Twilight reddened.
“Do I know her?”
“Kind of.”
“You can’t dance around the question forever, Twilight.” She turned to face her daughter.
“The problem is: she’s a bit of a troublemaker. Okay, a serious troublemaker.”
“Everyone enjoys a bit of trouble now and again. So, when do we get to meet this special pony that’s captured my daughter’s heart?”
“She’s not a pony.”
The kettle slipped again.
“A griffin? A dragon?”
“A changeling.”
“Oh . . .”
Twilight groaned, drawing in a deep breath. Her mother braced for whatever shock Twilight could deliver.
“It’s Chrysalis.”
The kettle dropped, crashing into the dishes piled in the sink, cracking a plate in two.
“You alright in there?” Night Light’s voice emanated from the other room.
“We’re alright.” Twilight yelled. “Mom just dropped the kettle.”
The young princess turned to her mother, unable to look her in the eyes.
“Chrysalis? The Changeling Queen, Chrysalis? The one who brainwashed your brother and replaced your sister.”
“Yes.” She couldn’t read the blank expression on her mother’s face. She readied her magic, ready to flee, if necessary.
“How did that happen?”
“I don’t know. She just seemed so . . . lonely. I wanted to help her.”
“Start at the beginning, Twilight.”
And she told everything. She paused constantly, allowing her mother time to process the information. Celestia’s condition. Chrysalis’ imprisonment. Begging her for help. The brief friendship that formed between them. The confusing emotions Twilight had never faced before. With the dam broken, the words spilled faster than she could think. Laying everything out on the table lifted a weight from Twilight’s soul.
“ . . . and now Shining and Cadence are here to keep an eye on me. They think I’ve been corrupted by Chrysalis. Maybe I have. I spent all morning mad at him. I know he’s trying to protect me, but he won’t listen.”
“It’s a complicated situation.” Twilight Velvet noted, ignoring the overflowing kettle behind her.
“What do I do?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“It’s a decision you have to make, Twilight.”
“I thought moms were supposed to have all the answers.”
A gleam sparkled in the older mare’s eye. “Want to know a secret, Sweetie?”
“Sure,” Twilight consented, falling back into her slump.
“I had this same conversation with your grandmother before I married. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to tie the knot. Maybe I’d hate it. Maybe my husband would change afterwards. I had terrible nightmares before the wedding.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not in the slightest. That’s not my point, though. My grandmother imparted this little bit of wisdom to me: Sometimes, there is no right or wrong answer. You want to know if falling for Chrysalis is dangerous? It’s very possible that she is. Is it a bad idea? Also, possible.”
Twilight visibly wilted. Her mother continued.
“But none of that is what matters. The question you should ask is: Can you live with the consequences of your choice? If you want to be with someone like Chrysalis, it could very well be a dangerous trick. That’s a possibility you must live with. Well, hopefully live with. On the contrary, what if you say no? If she’s really special to you, sending her away might be worse.”
“That’s nice and all, but I’d prefer if you could just say yes or no.”
Twilight Velvet finally shut off the water, setting the kettle on the stove to heat.
“I know. I’m not the one that has to live with the consequences. Shining knows this. He’s decided the consequences of breaking his little sister’s heart is easier than letting a villain take over the world.”
“So that’s a no, I shouldn’t.”
“It means he’s made up hismind. He wants to choose for you. Are you going to let him?”
Twilight considered the question.
“No. Whatever decision I make, it’ll be my choice.”
The two mares waited in silence until the kettle started to whistle.
“Love rarely makes sense. That’s why you follow your heart, not your head.”
“Thanks, Mom. You took all of that a lot better than I thought you would.”
“Twilight, I’ve lived a pretty long time. You pick up a trick or two in that time. If I’ve learned anything, it's that life can be crazy. And as far as I can tell, you’ve got a good heart, and a solid head on your shoulders. I know you’ll make the right decision, for you, and Equestria.”
“That means a lot coming from you.”
“Oh, and pass on a message for me, will you? If she messes with my daughter, I’ll make sure the princesses are the least of her problems.” Her mother winked playfully.
“I’ll tell her.” Twilight held her mother tight, blissful in her shielding embrace.
“If you ever need someone to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on, your father and I will be here for you, no matter what. Now let’s get back before your father sends Shining on a search and rescue.
“Oh, and before you leave, we have a gift for you.”
“Sorry that took so long.” Twilight Velvet blushed as she passed drinks to her gathered guests.
“No apologies needed. Dad and I were just discussing a few of the more interesting things happening up at the castle.” Shining Armor tore the straw from the side of the juice box, plunging the sharpened edge into the small cutout on top.
“Like what?” Velvet returned to her place on the dusty brick.
“Did you hear about the renovations going on in the Gardens?”
“I did. I haven’t been able to go up and see it lately, though. Maybe the two of you could give us a tour, when you have time,” she suggested.
“Sounds like fun.” Twilight fluttered her wings, landing softly on the couch cushion. “It seems like we’ll never have free time, though. Not if the ponies of Equestria have any say in it.”
Her parents laughed. Shining smiled, though it looked a little strained.
“Mom, Dad told me that you guys have been cleaning out the attic lately.”
“I’ve been cleaning up the attic. Your father has been digging through every little nook and cranny looking for anything interesting in the clutter.”
“And I found some neat little mementos.”
“Which reminds me. I already told Twilight. Shiny, your father and I have a gift for you.”
“Sounds like fun.” Shining slurped greedily at his juice.
“Night Light, would you be a dear and fetch them from our room?”
“Of course.” He set his drink on the table, making sure to position it properly on one of the coasters laid out across the glass. The chair swayed slightly as he pushed himself up and out of the seat. Each stair creaked as he made his way to the second level of the house.
“Shining,” Velvet started, “have you been taking care of your sister?”
“We worry about you two. You understand how parents can be now, don’t you?”
“A lot changed when Flurry arrived. Needless to say, I understand you and Dad a lot better now. It’s a whole new world.”
“And Cadence?”
“She’s been handling parenthood with a bit more grace. It’s like she was made to be a mother.”
“Speaking of which.” She turned to her daughter. “How have you been handling things lately?”
“I . . . can’t complain, I guess.” Twilight shrugged. “Being a princess isn’t always as glorious as it looks. If it weren’t for the wings and castle, I’m not sure I’d even notice half the time.”
“I’m back,” Night Light announced as he strode confidently through the kitchen archway, two thick, leather-bound books tucked under a foreleg. “What’d I miss?”
“Mom was asking me about Flurry and Cadence,” Shining explained.
“They’re doing well, I hope.” Night Light laid the book out on the table before settling back into his plushy seat.
Shining nodded. “I was saying that parenthood is quite an experience.”
“I can only imagine. You and Twilight were tough enough to raise, and you didn’t have wings. What about you, Twilight? Any stallions in your life I should be aware of?” He raised an eyebrow threateningly.
Twilight giggled at her father’s attempt at intimidation. “No stallions, Dad.”
The specificity of the answer didn’t offer much comfort, but he didn’t ask a follow-up.
“Enough of that.” Velvet dismissed him with a wave. “Why don’t you two take a look at your gifts.”
Shining and Twilight plucked their presents from the table. He tried to look enthused but had far less experience than Twilight when it came to receiving books as gifts. Meanwhile, Twilight admired the fine craftsmanship of the cover. Fake leather, obviously, but extremely well-made fake leather. The spine felt solid beneath her touch.
“Go on, open them up,” Velvet pushed.
While Shining simply chose a page at random, Twilight opened the front cover to admire the first page. The only mark looked like a photograph. Her parents, her brother, and she herself all beamed up from the photo, trapped forever in a moment of youthful joy.
“A scrapbook?” Shining asked, flipping to the next page.
“We found our old family scrapbook in the attic. We decided to have copies made, so both of you could take it with you. Something to remember your doddering old parents while you’re off ruling the country.” Night Light motioned with a hoof, trying to play cool while hiding the misty look in his eyes. Velvet wore her emotions on her sleeves, her hooves pressed together in front of her face, partially hiding the enthusiastic grin splayed out across her features.
“They’re wonderful,” Twilight exclaimed, marveling at every new memory unlocked by the details in each picture.
“We thought you’d like them,” Velvet nodded.
“I hate to say it, but we might need to be heading out, Twilight,” Shining interrupted.
Twilight glanced toward the clock. A bit past midday. Luna would be expecting her soon.
“Aww, already?” Night Light frowned.
“Sorry.” Twilight closed her book, tucking it beneath her wing. “Shining is right. We should be getting back. We’ll try to visit again before we leave.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Velvet nodded as she and Night Light led their children back into the entry hall.
“We love you guys. Promise us you’ll take care of yourselves,” Night Light added.
“We will,” Shining promised.
“And don’t forget what we talked about, Twilight.” Velvet and her daughter locked eyes, a simple understanding passing between them, causing Shining a little discomfort.
“I won’t. You can count on it.” Twilight smiled rebelliously.
And with a final parting goodbye and affirmations of love, the family split. Velvet and Night Light waited on their porch, waving madly until their children were out of sight around the next corner.
At this time, the streets of Canterlot were flooded with ponies of varying class. Groups of nobles congregated on the sidewalks, blocking traffic while they discussed whatever gossip had broken that very morning. Store owners and workers called out for customers, shouting about the daily specials and sales. More than once, Twilight felt the urge to stop in at a restaurant, curious about whatever new dish they’d prepared. Carriages rolled through the street, bobbing on the uneven cobblestone.
More than a few ponies recognized the two royal siblings on their exodus. Despite the unease between them, they managed to put their differences aside to keep the illusion of peace. Only when the golden palace gates came into view, when the crowds had dispersed to attend to whatever important errands needed doing, did Twilight and Shining drop their act.
“You told Mom, didn’t you?” Shining asked, not bothering to look at his sister.
“Is that a question or an accusation?”
Shining stepped to the side, blocking Twilight’s path, forcing her to notice him.
“It’s supposed to be a secret. Luna’s orders.”
“She knew you were lying. She figured she had a better chance asking me about it.”
“The cookie jar story?” Shining sighed.
“The cookie jar story,” Twilight confirmed.
“So, what exactly did you tell her?”
“Everything.”
“For Celestia’s sake, Twilight. Why would you do that?” Shining pressed a hoof to his forehead, quelling an ache forming between his eyes.
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Just tell her a bit? Change the subject? Tell a better lie?” Shining suggested.
“I wanted someone to talk to, alright? I’m going crazy lying to everyone.” Twilight emphasized her point by rising on her hind legs, throwing the rest wildly into the air.
“You should’ve talked to me.”
“Oh no. I’m not falling for that one again.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” He asked, offended.
“What do you think it means, Shiny?” Twilight barked. “I tried talking to you, remember? It didn’t end well for either of us.” Twilight ducked past him.
“Look at me, Twilight.”
With a groan, she did as she was told. The spark of rivalry in their shared glares could melt metal.
“What, Shining? Have more orders for me? Another line in the sand? Or are you just going to send me to my room for disobeying you?” Twilight advanced on Shining, forcing him back through sheer frustration.
“It’s not like that, Twilight,” he argued.
“Then what is it like, Shining? I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not a little filly anymore. I’m a princess of Equestria. The Princess of Friendship. You don’t get to order me around.”
“Calm down, Twilight.” Shining scanned his surroundings, praying no other ponies walked close enough to overhear his sister’s meltdown.
“No. I’m tired of being calm. I’m tired of being told what to do. From you. From Cadence. From Luna. I’m sick of it. I’m taking charge of my life, Shining Armor. I’m making my own decisions.”
She pressed a hoof into her brother’s chest-plate, producing a hollow ring.
“And right now, I’m making my choice. I choose Chrysalis.”
“Enough,” Shining snapped.
With Twilight’s fury subsiding, she realized what she’d done, evident by the look of pained terror on her brother’s visage. She slunk backwards, trying her best to ignore the nagging sense of guilt in her stomach.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that,” Twilight apologized.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re right. I’ve been treating you like a child.”
Shining lowered his head.
“In my mind, you’re still just my baby sister. I guess I haven’t been paying attention, though.”
“Shining . . . “
“Chrysalis is dangerous, Twilight. I didn’t want to see you hurt. But you’re grown up: that’s your mistake to make.”
“It’s not a mistake.”
“If you say so. I don’t expect Luna will take the news well.”
“I’ll deal with Luna myself.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Twilight.”
With that, Shining pressed past his sister, into the front courtyard of the Castle. Twilight stood on the sidewalk, her knees shaky, her stomach turning. On the verge of a nervous breakdown, Twilight squeezed her eyes shut.
In the darkness of her head, she saw the creature that had once haunted her nightmares. The blackened shell and piercing green eyes of the changeling queen. Even her image brought comfort. Her nerves settled, reinforced with a steeled determination.
“I won’t let them take you from me, Chrysalis. I promise.”
Cadence’s melodic voice bounced between the vaulted arches of the castle foyer. She sat at the top of the stairs, positioned perfectly to separate Twilight from her room.
“Cadence?” Twilight greeted, not bothering to slow as she brushed past her sister.
“Shiny just came storming through. I assume you had something to do with that.” Cadence fell in step beside Twilight, obviously intent on pushing the conversation.
“Possibly,” she answered curtly.
“I take it the two of you had another . . . civil discussion?”
“If you want to put it that way.”
Two gold-clad guards opened the way forward, allowing Twilight into the throne room. A crowd of nobles were gathered within, debating the costs and benefits of a new set of economic sanctions. Luna presided over the mass from Celestia’s throne. They seemed too enamored with their work to notice the new arrivals.
“Did this discussion happen to involve her?” Cadence made a face like she ate something rancid.
“Potentially,” Twilight growled.
“And what did you decide?”
“I’m really not in the mood for this, Cadence.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
Twilight stopped, heaving her shoulders with a deep breath.
“Would you just spit it out?” Twilight snarled, loud enough to draw the notice of several nobles as well as Luna.
The lunar princess cleared her throat, reclaiming the attention of the distracted ponies. Her unamused expression sent a clear message to the intruders. They hurried away, desperate to avoid any more ire from the court.
Once in the privacy of the castle passageway, their conversation resumed.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Twilight.”
Frustrated, Twilight twirled, putting herself face-to-face with Cadence.
“Don’t play coy with me, Cadence. Ever since you and Shining arrived, you’ve done nothing but boss me around and threaten my friends. I’m sick of it.”
“We’re not bossing you around, Twilight, we’re—”
“Doing what’s best for me, right? Just keeping me safe.”
“We are,” she assured.
“And here’s the part where you tell me Chrysalis is dangerous and can’t be trusted.”
“She is dangerous.”
“Stop. Just stop, Cadence. I don’t want to hear it.”
Cadence waited for the angry echo to fade before continuing.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Why are you so fixated on that? I’m able to take care of myself”
“Then answer the question.”
The kind smile and soothing tone finally managed to overwhelm Twilight, quenching the fire burning in her chest. Sickness infected the newly formed void within her.
“Fine. You win. I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I think. I haven’t had much of an appetite, lately.”
“A whole day, Twilight?”
“Don’t patronize me, Cadence.”
“Look. I know times are tough right now. So, how about we put our differences aside for today? We can grab lunch and spend some time relaxing in the baths. Just take some time for us. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Twilight’s hunger-weakened defenses crumbled. She smiled weakly, already losing herself in the warm touch of the Royal Baths.
“I guess that does sound kind of nice.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Cadence turned away, skipping down the carpeted path toward the mess hall. Twilight gathered her strength to follow. She closed her eyes, relying on instinct to lead her down the familiar path.
Another set of guards hoisted the oak gate open. Inside, over two dozen pony guards were situated around the room, split into smaller groups. Conversations fell silent as the princesses hovered past.
Cadence paused a short way down the center aisle. An inattentive Twilight failed to notice the sudden stop until she crashed into the older princess, knocking herself to the floor. She looked up at Cadence, ready to ask, but hesitated when she saw the mischievous grin.
“Why don’t we mix things up today?” Cadence suggested.
Twilight frowned.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. It’s fun to change things up occasionally. Come on. Please?” she begged.
“Fine,” Twilight capitulated, rolling her eyes. “I’m following you.”
Taking her sister’s offered hoof, Twilight recovered, trying and failing to ignore the confused stares assaulting her from every direction.
Humming a light tune, Cadence led Twilight to the last of the six tables set out for the guards. A trio of crystal ponies was sitting. Their conversation hushed as the princesses approached.
“Would you mind if we joined you for lunch?” Cadence asked.
Several of the soldiers exchanged confused, possibly concerned glances.
“Of course, Princess. You don’t need to ask.” An older stallion nodded to the others. Given his advanced age and hardened gaze, Twilight guessed he must have been the officer of the troupe.
“She wants to eat with us?” A younger, sky-blue stallion piped up, earning a slap from the mare beside him. Cadence raised a hoof over her mouth, hiding a smirk.
Both sides of the table scooted farther down the bench, opening a space for the mares.
Cadence took her place at the end of the bench. Twilight settled in opposite her.
“What was that for?” The pegasus seated next to Twilight rubbed at the red mark on the back of his head.
“Don’t be rude to the princesses,” the unicorn mare scolded.
“I wasn’t being rude,” he argued.
“Can it, you two,” the captain ordered.
“She started it.” He crossed his forelegs, pouting.
“So,” Cadence interrupted, “what were you talking about?”
“We were just discussing our assignment. No specifics, so you don’t need to worry about rumors spreading from us.” The captain kept his head bowed as he addressed his monarch.
“Too boring for you, Captain Shield?”
“Not at all, Ma’am.”
“Enough with the honorifics, Captain. Treat us like you would any other member of your troops while we’re here.”
He nodded, turning to his soldiers. “At ease, you two.”
“You’re the only one still sitting up straight, Captain,” the mare pointed out.
The pegasus turned toward Twilight, his pain apparently forgotten. “Name’s Glaze. Quartz Glaze. The pleasure’s mine, Princess.” He winked.
Before Twilight could respond to his chipper introduction, a yellow aura of magic grabbed him by the ear, dragging his head down to the table.
“That’s Private Quartz Glaze. Apologies. We’re still trying to teach him basic etiquette.” The unicorn took a bite from her sandwich, her horn still ablaze. “You can call me Dusti Diamond.”
“Let go of me.” Glaze flailed his wings.
“And this is Captain Iron Shield.” Cadence wrapped a foreleg around the Captain. The grizzled veteran didn’t try to escape her sudden headlock, despite his obvious discomfort. “He’s one of Shining Armor’s most trusted soldiers.”
“That’s kind of you to say, Princess Cadence.”
She released him, allowing him a moment to press his short-cropped silver mane back into shape.
“It’s nice to meet you all. I’m Twilight Sparkle.” Twilight reddened. “But you probably already knew that, being in the Royal Guard and all.”
“We’ve all been training under your brother since he arrived,” Glaze said, still struggling against Dusti’s mystic grip. “He’s the whole reason I joined up with the Guard.”
“He speaks highly of you, Twilight,” Dusti noted.
“That’s enough, Dusti. The Princesses aren’t here to listen to us chat about our superiors. Glaze, why don’t you grab them something to eat,” Shield said.
“Because I’m still nailed to the table,” Glaze whined.
“Seriously? That’s your excuse?” Dusti released the spell. “Fine, but you just earned yourself an extra week of training. I’ll teach you personally how to deal with magical threats.”
“Sounds like fun.” Glaze stretched upward, massaging his abused ear. “What can I get you two?”
“I’ll take the same as Dusti.” Cadence motioned toward the Lieutenant’s sandwich.
“And you, Twilight?”
“A sandwich sounds fine.” Twilight smiled.
Glaze flapped his wings, soaring over the other tables to the stand where the kitchen staff was doling out lunch to the most recent wave of arrivals.
“So, are there any particular gripes you had with your assignment, Captain?” Cadence questioned.
“Don’t worry. It won’t be a problem.”
“I will pull rank on you if I must, Captain.”
Dusti chuckled, watching the officer squirm under Cadence’s authority.
“The Captain’s Crystal Empire, born and bred,” the unicorn explained. “Getting him to leave is like pulling teeth.”
“Is that so, Captain?”
Cadence waited for the stallion’s reluctant nod.
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind for future assignments.”
“It’s not something to worry about, Princess. I promise.”
Dusti closed the gap between herself and Twilight, injecting herself into the conversation.
“I’ll tell you what’s strange about it. Our prisoner.” The group gathered around the table turned their attention to the mare. “I was in Canterlot during the invasion. Those bugs seemed to just pop out of thin air. It only took them minutes to take the city. I feel like we’re just sitting here, waiting for them to try again.”
“The Changelings are our allies, Lieutenant,” Shield corrected her.
“I believe King Thorax. But her? I don’t know. Feels like she’s planning something.”
“Maybe she’s changed,” Twilight whispered, drawing two confused glances from the soldier and a third more akin to concern.
“Maybe. Questions like that are above my pay grade.” The unicorn threw her forelegs up in surrender, scooting back to her seat as Glaze returned, two plates balancing precariously in his hooves.
“Did I miss anything?” He asked playfully as he distributed the food.
“We were informing the princess of our opinions on the prisoner,” Dusti spoke through the final bite of her meal.
“You mean Chrysalis?” His brazenness earned him another magical berating, courtesy of his superior. She held him by the nose, rubbing his face into the placemat.
“Shut it, Moron,” she scolded.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a nasally tone.
“What about you, Glaze? Do you think she’s a monster?” Twilight wondered aloud, bracing for another round of insults for her possible lover.
In preparation for his answer, Dusti released her hold.
“She scared me something fierce the first time I saw her.” He scrunched his features, double-checking to see if his face still worked properly. “But also, I feel a little bad for her.”
The slight glow of hope appeared in Twilight’s eyes.
“You feel bad for her? After everything she did?”
“Yeah. I was standing guard outside her door the other night. She just sits in there quietly all day. No visitors, no friends, no family. It’s got to be awful.”
“That’s not a very popular opinion,” Twilight mused. Cadence’s smile wavered briefly.
“Probably. I guess that’s part of it, too. If I don’t feel for her, who will?”
The Captain cleared his throat. “Perhaps we’d be better off with a . . . happier topic for our lunch conversations.”
“How about those new swords we were promised last year?” Glaze accused, drawing the group’s attention to Cadence and Iron. The two of them evaded the question.
Meanwhile, Twilight sank inward. She scrutinized the sandwich set out at her place. Two slices of wheat bread containing a wide variety of greens. Colorful flower petals occasionally peeked out between gaps in the foliage. A small speck of drool formed at the corner of her mouth.
With the aid of her magic, she raised her lunch to her face, nibbling the edge. An irate growl emanated from her stomach. She experimented with a more sizable bite. The inherent sweetness of the petals was kept in check by a pinch of bitter spice: a common, yet delicious blend. To Twilight, the simple taste burned her tongue.
Overwhelmed by the sudden nausea, she gagged, spitting her food back onto her plate and dropping the sandwich. Had she eaten recently, she would probably be sick right there.
“Twilight? Are you alright?” Cadence leaned over the table, settling a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder.
“I’m fine,” Twilight gasped.
The soldiers watched, trying to piece together the mystery based on what little evidence they saw.
“The food here’s not that bad, is it?” Glaze asked, genuinely curious.
“Shut up, Glaze,” Dusti ordered.
“Cadence, I think I’m ready to get on with our day.” Twilight pushed her plate away, still splattered with the disassembled remains of her lunch.
Cadence stood, circling around to Twilight’s side.
“You need to eat something, Twilight. Maybe there’s something better on the menu.”
“I don’t want to eat.”
“This isn’t healthy.”
“Princess?” The group looked to the Captain.
Cadence frowned. “Princess Twilight isn’t feeling too well.”
The looks on their faces made it clear they didn’t buy the excuse, but they weren’t in any position to question royalty.
“Did I do something?” Glaze asked Dusti.
She shook her head in dismay.
“Why don’t you two get a head start on our training drills for this afternoon?” Captain Shield suggested.
“We’re still off duty, Sir,” Glaze argued.
“Not anymore. Get going, or I’ll have you running laps around the castle until sundown.” The two underlings flinched. The Captain wasn’t known for bluffing.
“Well, we’d best get going, then.” Dusti rose and started for the door, dragging Glaze behind her.
“It was nice to meet you, Princess,” Glaze called.
Now alone with only the two princesses, Captain Iron slid closer. “What’s going on here?”
“Like I said, Princess Twilight just isn’t feeling well.”
“Princess Cadence. I don’t mean to overstep, but I would like to speak with Princess Twilight privately, if possible.”
Cadence stepped closer, hesitant to leave her sister in her current state.
“It’s alright, Cadence,” Twilight assured her. She rubbed Cadence’s pink foreleg with her hoof.
“I suppose I’ll be over there, then,” Cadence whined as she sulked over to the corner.
“I’m fine, Captain,” Twilight promised.
“Permission to speak freely?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t believe you, Princess.”
“Your concern is noted, Captain, but I’m telling you to drop it.”
The old stallion turned toward the window, staring at the sea of clouds cluttering the sky.
“Would you mind if I told you a story, Ma’am?”
Twilight shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “A story?”
“Just humor an old man.”
“Fine.”
Twilight rested her head against the table. Her stomach’s demands still clawed at her mind. She prodded the bread slices halfheartedly.
“I’ve been a member of the Crystal Empire Guard for a long time. Even before Sombra’s takeover. Upon my promotion to Captain, my superior officers decided that my talents would be most useful in one of the fortresses that lined the Empire’s borders. Wanted me to whip the soldiers there into shape. With such a long period of peace, most of the soldiers were just fresh recruits.”
He studied the passing white fluff, as if portraits of the past were painted across them.
“Why are you telling me this, Captain?” Twilight flipped one of the slices of bread, considering another attempt to sate her appetite.
“I’m getting there. I’d been there about a month when a whole mess of ponies showed up. They claimed to be fighting on behalf of some rebel group and demanded we hand over our weapons and food stocks. I have no idea who they really were. I never heard anything about any rebellion in the area. Didn’t really matter at the time. There must’ve been thousands of stallions waiting for us.
“Anyway, I’ve got just a small army of soldiers in the keep with me. Winter’s setting in, so luckily, we were already bunkered down. They beat against those walls for days. Supplies started to dwindle. For most of those recruits, that was their first battle, and it wasn’t going well.”
“Captain, I really don’t want to hear—”
“You have the same hollow look in your eyes those recruits did, Princess.”
The verbal punch struck Twilight square in the gut.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Terror. Those soldiers were ready to die. Most of them refused to eat. A few of them forced themselves, and it just made them sick. In their heads, they lost the fight before they even started.”
“And you think that’s my problem.”
“It fits.”
“Except I’m not a soldier at war, Captain.”
“I’d argue that’s exactly what you are, Princess. A lot of the ponies in here don’t realize just how rough the situation is. I’m not one of them. You’re not one of them. We know the stakes, Princess. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that you’re handling this perfectly fine, and I’ll drop it and continue on my way.”
“You’re . . .”
Twilight tried to deny it, but her words crumbled.
“Pardon my saying so, Twilight, but you’re a damn fine Princess. If even half of what Captain Shining says is true, then I think you’re Equestria’s best chance for making it through these troubled times. What about you? What do you believe?”
“I don’t have the same confidence you do, Captain.”
“And that’s your problem. You’ve already given up. Same as my old recruits.”
“I haven’t. I swear,” she protested.
“Prove it, Princess. Stay strong. No matter what happens, you must see this through to the end. You have to believe in yourself, or you’ll never be able to do it.”
Twilight digested the story quietly, but it wouldn’t quell her hunger.
“You’re a wise stallion, Captain.”
“Take care of yourself, Princess. For Equestria.”
The soldier’s old bones creaked as he rose from the bench. He motioned to Cadence, who had been watching with rapt attention. Before he could go forward and gather his squad, Twilight called to him.
“Captain? What happened to your recruits?”
He marched onward, never looking back.
“Are you alright, Twilight?” Cadence asked, hovering over her shoulder like a doting mother.
Twilight wasn’t listening. With the Captain’s words still fresh in her mind, she retrieved her lunch, shuffling it back into a recognizable state.
“Twilight?” Cadence repeated.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Twilight took a bite.
“I need to make a note to give the Captain a pay bump.” Cadence lifted her tiara from her head, offering it to the uniformed mare on the other side of the desk.
The attendant took the crown with utmost reverence, cradling it like her own child. She relinquished it to the cold security of a safe behind the counter.
“I see why Shining likes him. He seems like someone useful to have around.” Twilight still felt discomfort in her belly, but her hunger had been satisfied, if only for the moment.
The attendant returned, a pair of white bathrobes and a pile of towels draped over her back. The princesses slipped into the soft wool, floating their towels beside them as they pressed deeper into the Baths.
Through the door at the end of the hallway, a private bath awaited them, reserved specifically for the two of them. Sometimes, Twilight enjoyed flaunting her royal status, reveling in the perks it offered.
“Welcome to the Royal Bathhouse, Twilight Sparkle,” Cadence announced.
The new room felt rather austere. Plain white walls surrounded them. The bath itself consumed the center of the room. A flight of stairs on each edge of the pool led down into the bubbles. An ornate white pillar protruded from the center, spilling sparkling hot water. Clouds of steam billowed from the surface of the pool.
“So, is it everything you hoped it would be?” Cadence asked, dancing with excitement.
“It’s a lot nicer when you’re not sharing with a bunch of strangers.”
“Yup. Just you and your favorite sister.”
“My only sister,” Twilight barked.
“Your favorite only sister,” Cadence returned.
Twilight tossed her towels onto a lounge chair sitting nearby. As she peeled her robe off, she tested the water with a free hoof. A perfect balmy warmth soaked into her fur.
“How is it?”
“Hot.”
Cadence tested it herself. Disrobing, she plunged into the water, sinking up to her neck as she beelined for the center of the pool.
Unlike her sister, Twilight preferred the slow burn as she dipped into the tub. The bubbles tickled her skin as she lowered herself below the surface.
“Over here.” Twilight could see Cadence waving through the bank of fog.
Splashing over to her sister’s side, Twilight noticed the ridge sticking out from the wall. She rested her tired haunches on the stone bench, her troubles bleeding away already.
“See? My conversations are a lot more relaxing,” Cadence pointed out.
“Cadence, did you lure me in here so you could lecture me?” The room went dark as Twilight nestled down into the bubbles, her heavy eyelids drawing shut.
“The opposite, in fact. I brought you here so you could lecture me.”
“Cadence, no one loves lecturing others more than I do, but can’t we just . . . not talk.”
“Nope,” she sang, adamant.
“I tried,” Twilight shrugged.
“I want you to tell me everything about Chrysalis.”
“Well, as it happens, she’s actually a Changeling Queen. Crazy, right?” Twilight snarked.
“Come on, Twilight. I want you to take this seriously,” Cadence whined.
“If you wanted me to be serious, you shouldn’t have brought me here.”
“Fair enough.”
“Thank you,” Twilight said pointedly.
The alicorn stretched her limbs, sending small ripples through the surf. She slid forward to the edge of her seat, letting her wings flare to their full span. The injured one still felt a little stiff. It wouldn’t hold her weight for long if she tried to fly, but she could finally move it without hurting herself.
“Do you love Chrysalis?”
Lost in the ecstasy of her limbered body, she almost forgot Cadence. The sudden question caused her to jump, sliding her fully off her seat and flat onto the floor. She surfaced, shaking the water from her mane.
“For Celestia’s sake, Cadence. What kind of question is that?” She turned to her sister, startled by the shaking form of the elder princess.
“One you’re avoiding,” Cadence noted.
“You just caught me off guard is all,” Twilight argued.
Cadence sighed. “You don’t have to answer. I already know.”
Twilight clambered back onto the bench, widening the gap between Cadence and herself.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Twilight lied.
“I’m the Princess of Love, Twilight. Did you really think you could hide it from me?”
“So, what if I am? Are you going to try to talk me out of it? Shining already tried. Think you could do better than him?” Twilight challenged.
Cadence leaned back against the pillar, letting a sheet of water wash over her shoulders as she laughed.
“I know I could do better than him. Like I said, though, I’m not here to talk you out of it. I know better. You’ve got it bad.”
Twilight pouted.
“I felt your love that first day, when me and Shining ambushed you in your study. I was so excited that my Twily found love. Of course, I didn’t know it was Chrysalis at that point.”
“Try not to sound too disappointed.”
Cadence turned to Twilight, suddenly serious. “I thought the changeling was screwing with my magic. When Shining went to talk to you, I paid a visit to Chrysalis. I threatened her, trying to get her to release her spell on you.”
“You threatened her?” Twilight squeaked, injured.
“I’m not proud of it,” Cadence snapped. “I thought she was trying to take advantage of you. Just being near her scrambled my magic.”
“Did it accomplish anything?”
Cadence snorted. “Of course not. I would’ve had better luck convincing a dragon to part with his treasure. I had a complement of guards with me. She faced them down like they were scared fillies.”
Cadence looked far too invested in a bubble bobbing in the water.
“That got me to thinking.”
Twilight scoffed. “And what did you think?”
“Maybe she wasn’t messing with me. I couldn’t know for sure. Even without my magic, every instinct I had told me she was serious. I didn’t know what to think. It wouldn’t be the first time she misled me. I needed to get you away from her for a bit, to a place where I could wash my magic from Chrysalis’ influence.”
“And?” Twilight found herself leaning forward, eager to hear the answer.
“I believe you love her, Twilight. I believe she loves you.”
Twilight’s body numbed. Her pulse hastened.
“Really?”
Cadence smashed her hoof into the water, creating a small geyser. “I can’t shake this doubt, Twilight. Something’s missing from the puzzle, but I don’t have the slightest clue what.” A tear soaked into one of the few dry patches left on her face.
“Cadence?” Twilight reached a comforting hoof toward her sister.
“It just couldn’t have been anyone else? You had to fall for the one creature I hated most in this world.”
“I’m sorry.” Twilight shrank.
“As if life wasn’t tough enough. Haven’t we suffered enough, Twilight?”
Over the course of a minute, Cadence had aged years.
“I guess you have,” Twilight whispered.
Turning her back to Cadence, Twilight ascended the stairs. Even trapped within the cloud of steam, the air felt cold.
“Wait, Twilight, I didn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what you meant, Cadence. Celestia forbid I get what I want.”
“No—”
“Be quiet,” Twilight commanded.
“Let me explain—”
“This was a mistake, Cadence.”
“Twilight—”
“If you hate it here with me, why don’t the two of you just go home already? In fact, maybe I should leave. Luna has the cure, what does she care if I go home?”
“I—”
“This is torture, Cadence. Do you get that? I’ve spent the last week trying to wrap my head around everything that’s happened. You think it’s difficult for you, that I fell for Chrysalis? Did you stop to consider how I felt? Celestia’s dying. Luna’s abandoned me. Worse than that she sent for my brother and sister to try to leash me. And that’s exactly what you two did.
“I looked everywhere for solace, Cadence. My loved ones ordered me around and took what little comfort I had left. That monster is the only one to offer me any kind of solace. And you couldn’t even let me have that, could you?”
Twilight’s fur bristled with rage. She struggled to breathe; her stomach pain redoubled.
“Twilight?” Cadence held herself, eyes wide with fear.
“What?” Twilight snapped.
“We tortured you?”
The question hung in the air, thicker than the steam.
“We tortured you?” she repeated.
“Yeah, Cadence. Torture. That’s what this has been. And I’m tired of having to apologize for it. I tried to bear it as long as I could, but I’ve hit my limit.” Twilight slammed her hoof.
“I didn’t . . . I hadn’t . . .” she stammered.
“Just stop.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Now you do. What are you going to do about it?”
“I’ll trust you.”
“You what?”
“I’ll trust you. I owe you that much, don’t I?”
“I want to be with Chrysalis. I won’t change my mind.”
“I know. I’ll . . . do my best to live with that.”
A bank of clouds drifted past the afternoon sun, darkening the skylight.
“So, what now?” Twilight asked, her frustration thoroughly vented.
“If I’m still worthy of your company,” Cadence started. “We’ve still got this bath for the rest of the hour.” She offered a pained smile.
Twilight locked eyes with her sister. She wanted to cry, or scream. She wanted to hold Cadence tight and listen to that lullaby voice console her. She wanted to flee, tossing her crown into the wind as she escaped.
In the end, she settled for a bath.
Twilight soaked at Cadence’s side. The water felt much colder now.
“I love her, Cadence.”
“I believe you, Twilight. And I’ll stand by you, no matter what. Like a good sister should. Even if that means that I have to get along with Chrysalis.” She shuddered.
“You think she loves me?”
“It’s almost impossible to tell with Changelings. From what I’ve seen, I think so.”
Twilight’s core froze, even in the heat of the bath.
“What’s wrong, Twilight? Are you going to be sick?” Cadence scooted away.
“Probably.”
Only one more confession to go. In her head, Twilight compiled a list of things she would rather do: Cursed by Discord, kidnapped by rogue changelings, even facing down Celestia’s wrath.
Chrysalis stared at the map drawn on the ceiling. Her lack of focus caused lines in the paint to blur. Fictional borders melted away, swirling the image into a colorful and nondescript blob. In her boredom, she hummed an eerie lullaby. As surreal as the melody sounded, she couldn’t remember where she heard it.
A flash of purple light startled her, snapping the world back into focus. Twilight stood in the center of the room; a leather-bound tome snuggled against her chest.
“Twilight?” Chrysalis rolled onto her stomach, allowing her wings to lift her off the floor.
“Did you miss me?” Twilight smiled impishly.
“What are you doing here? If Luna hears about this, she’ll—”
“If Luna hears about what? I just decided to take a break and do some light reading. I’m being a perfect little princess.” The alicorn’s eye twinkled. She treated her deceit like a badge of honor.
Chrysalis felt a slight tingle of excitement at the sudden boldness.
“The illustrious Princess Twilight Sparkle, sneaking around behind everyone’s back. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’ve been rubbing off on you.”
“Maybe a little,” Twilight admitted.
Stretching her wings, Chrysalis cantered over to the edge of her bed, sinking down into the sheets in a regal pose. During their afternoon tea, Twilight had seen Celestia lay in an almost identical manner.
“So, what brings you to my humble home today, Princess?”
Twilight reddened. In the short span of time since they separated, Chrysalis’ overwhelming presence had taken on an intoxicating allure.
“I came to visit you.”
“Is that so? Has something happened?”
“No. I just thought you could use some company.”
Twilight stepped up to the edge of the bed. Chrysalis shifted to the side and patted the open space. Hesitantly, as if stepping up to a steep ledge, Twilight climbed up, ensuring she left a healthy distance between them.
“What’s that?” Chrysalis pointed at the book in Twilight’s clutches.
“A gift from my parents. A photo album.”
“Oh? Any embarrassing snapshots in it for me to make fun of?” Chrysalis inched closer for a better look.
“Here.” Twilight set out the book between them, opening it to one of the later pages. A collection of photos showed off her and her brother as foals, playing in the yard. They appeared to be running laps around their mother’s vegetable garden.
“That’s you?” Chrysalis chuckled, leaning closer to drink in the view of the younger Twilight. She turned her head to different angles, trying to compare the photo with the reality sitting in front of her. The past version’s fur was brighter and sported a solid purple mane as compared to Twilight’s pink stripe.
“If you think I’m different, take a look at Shining.”
Chrysalis turned her attention to the second foal.
“I don’t see much of a difference.”
“What? How? He’s as small as I was back then. And look at that mane. He always liked it longer before he joined the army.”
“Twilight, I try not to think about your brother.”
“Why?”
“It brings back . . . interesting memories. Of our previous encounters. While I was Cadence.” Chrysalis cleared her throat, suddenly enthralled by something on the far wall.
“Do I even want to know?”
“Your brother likes to flirt. And he’s not particularly good at it.”
“You flirted with my brother?” Twilight snickered.
“As I said, I’d rather not discuss it.”
Chrysalis selected a random page from the earlier section. It depicted a cute gray mare standing in an apple orchard. She had bags around her eyes and an unkept mane. Most likely, both were symptoms of her swollen belly.
“That’s my mom, Twilight Velvet,” Twilight explained. “I don’t see Shining in the picture, so I’d guess that’s him in there.”
Despite the haggard appearance of Velvet, Chrysalis only saw the smile that graced her thin cheeks.
“She looks happy.”
“When we were growing up, she always told us it was her dream to be a mother. She called us her ‘Ultimate Adventure’ or something like that.”
“She did a fine job of it to boot.” Chrysalis tapped Twilight’s nose.
“Aww. I’m sure she’d love hearing you say that,” Twilight said, crinkling her muzzle.
“I think she would be more likely to beat me. I did traumatize her family.”
Twilight turned back to the book. Her mother’s words floated through the vacant space in Twilight’s thoughts. Briefly, she considered telling Chrysalis about their talk. She could confess everything right now, though the idea left her more worried than anything else. Before she could decide, Chrysalis interrupted.
“You said your mother always wanted foals. Do you?”
“Do I what?” Twilight blinked rapidly.
“Do you want children?”
Twilight made decent progress into her answer before she realized she didn’t have one. Instead, she shrugged.
“I’ve never given it much thought. I don’t think I’d have much time to care for a foal with all these princess responsibilities. She’d probably be cute as a button, though.”
“She?”
“Yeah. I think I’d like a girl. You know, a little Twilight walking around. For now, though, I think I’ll just take care of Flurry Heart. Besides, I’ve heard that the whole ordeal is pretty painful.” Simply imagining the pain made her squirm.
“Most modern healing spells will stop the pain, too,” Chrysalis explained.
“I mean, I guess. Still though . . . “ Twilight narrowed her eyes, turning to the changeling. “Why do you know that, Chrysalis?”
“I am a mother, Twilight.”
“Well, yeah. But I think it’s a little different for changelings.”
“Changelings do hatch from eggs, yes. However, you seem to be forgetting that changelings aren’t always changelings. Our changes are completely physical, Twilight. Completely.”
“Chrysalis?” Twilight started, her train of thought completely derailed. “Are you telling me you’ve had a foal?”
“Not a foal, per se.” The pitch of her voice climbed an octave.
“I didn’t know changelings could do that. I’ll have to look into this. It could open so many new doors for both ponies and changelings,” Twilight mused, expertly diving into her logical half as her emotional side went nuclear.
“Why don’t we drop this subject and keep looking at the book?” Twilight begged, not bothering to wait for permission.
“Twilight?” Chrysalis leaned in close, a devilish grin on her lips.
“Yeah . . .” Twilight chirped.
“If you’re curious about changelings, you know you can ask me anything, right?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I’d always be interested to help you experiment.”
“Why did you say it like that?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Chrysalis’ fangs glittered as she smiled.
Twilight turned away. She could feel her skin, scorching hot beneath her fur.
“I think I need to be going,” Twilight coughed, sliding off the bed.
“Wait,” Chrysalis cried. “It was a joke, Twilight. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It was just a joke?” Twilight asked.
“Yes? No?” Chrysalis’ cheeks flushed bright blue. “Do you want it to be?”
Twilight had never seen the changeling queen so flustered. It was adorable, in a childish sort of way. Like a juvenile mare facing down her first crush. That settled it. She needed to tell Chrysalis everything.
And then the clock chimed, startling Twilight.
“I need to go. Luna will be coming for me any minute,” Twilight apologized. Without waiting to see Chrysalis’ reaction, Twilight disappeared in a flash of purple light.
Twilight collapsed to the dark floor of her room, trapped in a paradoxical vortex of relief and anxiety. After only a moment to recover, a knock at the door signaled Luna’s arrival.
“Twilight?” Luna called.
“Be there in a minute,” Twilight responded. She pulled a book from the shelf. A basic manual of magic, given the cover. It would suffice. Bracing herself, she pulled open her chamber door, revealing the lunar princess.
“Twilight. Are you ready?” She sounded giddy.
“Almost, I just need to head up to my study. I’ll need to record any changes, but that should only take a few seconds. Go ahead to Celestia, I’ll meet you there when I’m ready.”
“Sounds like a plan. I have faith in you, Twilight.” Along with her improved mood, Luna’s elegant stride had returned.
“Princess Luna. If I could make a request?”
“And what would that be?”
“I want Chrysalis to be there. She helped make the cure, and I think she should be there when we use it.”
Luna twitched, but her demeanor didn’t change.
“I suppose there is no harm in allowing it. She will be escorted to Celestia’s chambers, where I will keep watch personally until you arrive.”
And then she was gone. Twilight released her captive breath. Asking for the moon might have been easier. Without any other options, she marched up to her study to the rhythm of an unheard funeral dirge.
In the room she once considered more personal than her bedroom, Twilight found her cure sitting on the cluttered table. She cleared a spot, pushing everything back toward the opposite edge, save for a pristine scroll. Gathering her inkpot and quill from a nearby drawer, Twilight prepared to write.
From a visual standpoint, the brew was still the same bubbling pink broth that it had been before. She marked the lack of physical change in her notes. Next, she plucked a petal from the vase in the corner. She dribbled a drop of the potion onto it, watching closely for any reaction. Nothing. She couldn’t decide if that should be a helpful or harmful omen.
Sucking a breath through her teeth, she plucked a feather from her bad wing, causing a mild whimper. Much like the petal before, no reactions were apparent. She swept both test subjects into a dustbin.
Finally, she examined the plain crystal. Chrysalis had turned it into a teacup, and the brew had turned it back. Given that it remained a crystal, it seemed to have completely nullified the changeling magic. Even better than that, she couldn’t find any damage on the gem to suggest her solution might be dangerous.
She jotted down each result in her notes and rolled the scroll back up before stacking it up alongside several of its brethren. With the final addition of a cork stopper to keep the potion from leaking, Twilight made her way to Celestia’s bed chamber.
Standing outside the door, Twilight could feel the tension waiting for her on the other side. The complement of guards held the passage open only while Twilight crossed, sealing the exit behind her immediately.
Luna waited at Celestia’s bedside, nuzzling her sister’s cold hoof lovingly. She hadn’t noticed Twilight’s arrival. Chrysalis kept to the shadows, guard up and gaze locked firmly on Luna. Despite being wreathed in the dark, Twilight could see her trembling.
“I’m here, Luna,” Twilight announced.
The lunar princess rose, lowering her sister’s leg gently to the bed. She assumed her regal posture as she approached Twilight.
“You may leave now.” At Luna’s command, the medical team dispersed, fleeing like trained hounds at their master’s orders.
“I don’t suppose you’ll let me go too, would you?” Chrysalis asked, her playful veneer damaged by the fear in her voice.
“I’m not the one who insisted you be here. You should ask Twilight if you wish to leave.”
Chrysalis’ gaze flickered to Twilight, who offered the kindest smile she could offer in such a grim atmosphere. The changeling’s terror didn’t abate, but she withdrew her request to leave before slinking back into the shadows.
“Here.” Twilight relinquished the potion to Luna, but she denied it.
“It is your craft, Twilight. You should be the one to administer it.”
Gathering her resolve, Twilight nodded, taking the flask with her as she drew closer to Celestia.
By now, the solar alicorn’s breathing could be heard from throughout the room, wheezing and rasping as she tried to keep her lungs fed. The tissue around her wound had turned necrotic. A slurry of some thick substance bled from the burns. Spiked veins had covered her completely, ruining her stunning white coat.
Twilight battled a wave of sickness that curled over her. Perhaps the Captain’s war comparison had more merit than she thought. She forced her legs to carry her forward, leaning over Celestia’s body and removing the stopper from the bottle.
The pink liquid drizzled from the mouth of the glass, gathering in small pools wherever it could. Unsure of the proper dosage, Twilight started with meager applications before withdrawing the bottle.
Luna appeared over her shoulder, holding her steady with a wing as they watched the medicine work. Seconds ticked past. Then minutes. Twilight felt a piece of herself die with each click of the clock’s gears. Though stoic as ever, Luna’s agony must have eclipsed anything Twilight could fathom.
When enough time had passed without any overt changes, Twilight provided a second, larger dose. When that failed, she emptied the remainder of the bottle. Soft pink liquid saturated Celestia’s fur, seeping into the sheets and spilling onto the floor.
“Are we supposed to leave it overnight?” Luna asked, anxiety poisoning her sweet tone.
“When we tested it, it took a bit of time.”
“Define ‘a bit’.”
“A minute, maybe?”
Sixty ticks of the swinging pendulum passed over what felt like days.
Then sixty more.
Then sixty more.
“I don’t get it,” Twilight’s voice was cold. Her legs and wings felt numb.
“Did . . . did it work?” Luna wondered, dreading the impending answer.
“No.” Twilight staggered back, dropping the glass and letting it shatter against the stone floor. Luna stood, still as the gargoyles adorning the castle towers.
Twilight pressed her back to the wall, sliding down onto the floor and burying her head in her hooves.
“It worked fine earlier. What’s changed? What’s wrong with it? Why didn’t it work?” From her crumpled form collapsed on the floor, Twilight muttered these questions in an endless loop.
“What happened, Twilight?”
Luna’s voice dredged the princess from her panic with a shock of icy horror.
“I don’t know. It should have worked. It worked last time.”
“So, why did it not work this time?” Luna refused to look at her.
If she could cower any farther back, Twilight would have. “I don’t know, Princess. All of my tests indicated that this would work.”
“So why did it fail?” Luna’s calm aura vanished. The shadows at the edges of the room began to pulse, creeping inward in short inky tendrils.
“I don’t know. Honestly.”
A soft touch caused Twilight to jump. Chrysalis stood over her, concern chiseled on her face. She pulled Twilight away from the wall, setting her in the moonlight flooding in through the windows.
It took only a cursory glance around the room to understand why. The shadows were bleeding ink. Dark serpents uncoiled from the abyss, smothering the light as they stretched out from their dens.
“Luna?” Twilight yelped.
“This is all your fault, Creature.”
Luna wasn’t Luna. Where she had been standing, a new mare stood, identical to Luna, but wrapped in an aura of blinding hatred and grim intentions.
“Luna, you need to calm down,” Twilight whined through streaming tears.
“I trusted you. I brought you into my home. I spared you from death. And this is the payment for my kindness?”
“She’s not listening, Twilight,” Chrysalis figured.
“You sabotaged the cure, didn’t you? Your lust for vengeance will not be sated until my sister is dead, will it?”
“Luna, please?” Twilight begged.
“You were a mistake, Beast. An oversight of nature that should never have been allowed to draw breath. Allow me to correct it.” A swirling void opened around Luna’s horn. Or the horn of whatever stood opposed to them.
“Luna, it isn’t Chrysalis’ fault.”
“Silence, Twilight. Do not think me ignorant of your own part in this. Ever since she’s arrived, you have allowed her to poison your mind.”
“She hasn’t, I swear,” Twilight pleaded.
Black tendrils creeped from the shadows. Twilight raised her shield, trapping her and Chrysalis in a vibrant bubble of magic.
“You seek my throne? Is that it? You would let Celestia die to advance your own position. You would seek this Creature’s aid in tearing me from my birthright.”
“I’m not trying to usurp you.”
An unbelievable force pressed inward from all sides. Shifting shapes floated through the dark, their jagged fingers scratching at the energy dome.
“I will not stand idly by while you try to take what is mine. I will not be the princess to let Equestria fall,” the thing declared.
A powerful slam chipped away at Twilight’s magic, widening into a crack. Oily ooze snaked through the fissures.
“Twilight?”
Twilight turned toward Chrysalis. One of the tendrils had lashed itself around her leg. Rather than try to drag her away, the tendril pulled down, sinking into the floor and pulling the changeling queen with it.
“Hold on,” Twilight ordered, reaching out to take her hoof.
“Twilight?” Chrysalis shouted louder this time. The lower half of her body melted into the stone as more tendrils wormed into their safe space.
“Chrysalis?”
Time slowed to a stop. The two of them locked eyes. Twilight watched tears stream down the changeling’s cheeks. Every fiber of her being cried out for Twilight to save her. As her forelegs sank out of sight, Twilight released her grip, restrained by the stone.
“Twilight?” Chrysalis’ voice radiated a sorrowful dread.
Twilight wiped a tear from her chin, forcing her body to calm.
“I love you, Chrysalis.”
And then she was gone. Taken by the dark.
Twilight dropped to her knees, her body screaming for a moment’s respite. With one final look to the creature, now camouflaged into its own shadows, Twilight twisted her features into a visage of pure rage.
Twilight’s spell faded, letting the darkness swallow her.
Twilight buried her head under her pillow, blocking out the thin strip of sunlight that peeked through her lavender curtains. The throbbing pain in her head thumped in time with her heartbeat, agitated further by her celestial wake-up call.
“Twilight, are you planning on getting up soon, or should I start clearing more off your schedule?”
The mound of fluff shifted as she lifted the edge of her pillow, revealing the stubby green and purple dragon standing in her bedroom doorway, tapping his claws together patiently.
“Good morning, Spike.”
“Good afternoon, Twilight,” he corrected.
Twilight’s response more closely resembled a guttural moan than any legitimate word. She sat up quickly enough to make the room spin, letting her pillow fall uselessly next to her. Yawning, she hurriedly rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“Do we have any coffee made, Spike?”
“I’ll warm up a cup for you. Do you want me to bring it here?”
“That’s kind of you to offer, Spike, but I think I should probably be getting up anyway.” She graced him with a kind smile.
“Don’t mention it.” Spike waved a claw nonchalantly as he disappeared.
Kicking the sheets to the foot of her bed, the princess heaved her legs over the edge, letting the rug’s shaggy fibers tickle her hooves as she pulled herself up.
She recognized the familiar surroundings of her Ponyville castle. High in the vaulted peaks of the crystal hallway, banners fluttered on golden rods. Many of the waving cloths bore her personal mark: her six-pointed star. The few exceptions were embroidered with symbols of her friends.
Her slow steps echoed through the empty hallway.
She didn’t remember falling asleep last night. Nor could she recall coming home. In fact, the longer she searched through the recesses of her mind, the more blank spaces appeared where her memories should be.
Trotting through the door at the end of the hallway, Twilight found herself in the main hall. A shimmering crystal table waited in the center of the room, surrounded by several matching thrones. Only one was occupied. The stocky orange mare reclined in her seat, her face hidden beneath the wide brim of a tan hat. A long blonde ponytail rested on her shoulder, held tight by a red ribbon.
“Applejack?” Twilight inquired.
The orange mare flicked her hat back, revealing piercing green eyes and a hospitable grin.
“Well look at you. Wasn’t sure you’d be up and walking yet. Not after last night,” Applejack sang in her customary southern drawl.
“Last night?” Twilight asked, a pinch of worry in her voice.
“You don’t remember? Pinkie threw a party for you?”
Twilight frowned. “I don’t remember anything from last night.”
“Shoot, Twilight.” Applejack glanced around the room. “You’d better not let Chrissy hear you say that. She’d be furious.”
“Why would she be upset?” Twilight kept her head low, waiting for the changeling to lunge at her from some unseen nook in the room.
“Wow, I guess Pinkie’s party really did a number on you. Don’t you worry, I’ll explain everything over breakfast – or lunch, at this point, I guess.” Applejack hopped out of her chair with an athlete’s dexterity, accompanying Twilight for her short walk to the kitchen.
“By the way,” Applejack started, “how’s your wing?”
As they walked, Twilight gave her wing an experimental flap. The resulting pain forced her to stumble. Applejack caught her before she could fall.
“That bad, huh?” she figured.
“What the heck happened last night?”
Applejack snorted. “You agreed to be a test subject for Pinkie’s newest cupcake recipe. I don’t know what she put in it, but you seemed to enjoy it well enough. Next thing we knew, you were dancing on tables and somersaulting through the air.”
“I what?” Twilight froze, her cheeks bright red.
“It was kind of impressive at first,” Applejack reassured her. “Then you lost your balance during a particular stunt. You broke three tables when you landed.”
“Why didn’t anyone stop me?”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “We tried to. Have you ever tackled a magic-spewing alicorn, Twilight? I’ll give you a hint, you’d best be prepared to lose.”
Twilight gasped. “I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”
“Only Rainbow’s pride.”
Reaching their destination, the ponies settled around the kitchen table, a plain wooden thing that looked out of place among the lavish furnishing of the castle. Spike stood on a short stool that allowed him to reach the countertop, heating a purple mug with a splash of green fire.
“Howdy, Spike.” Applejack tipped her hat to the dragon.
Spike held up a claw, motioning for her to wait. Only when a small wisp of steam emanated from the mug, he extinguished his fire and responded.
“Morning, Applejack. You want me to make you anything?”
“If you want to start serving that pie I brought over, that would be delightful, Spike.”
“Sure. Twilight, you want some too?”
“Of course. Thanks, Spike.”
While Spike searched the kitchen for pie, Twilight continued their earlier conversation.
“So, I tried one of Pinkie’s cupcakes and went crazy.” Twilight recapped.
“That just about covers it. She refused to tell us what she put in it. Claims it’s a secret family recipe or something like that.”
“Didn’t anyone else eat one? I wasn’t the only one, was I?”
“She said she made it special for you. For your special day.”
Behind them, the kitchen door opened and shut. None of the room’s occupants noticed the new arrival.
“My special day?”
“I think you mean our special day.”
Twilight and Applejack turned in tandem toward the sleek black form of Chrysalis. She stood still, her face painted with an excited smirk. A glassy black horn protruded from her forehead, making her taller than the door behind her.
“Chrysalis?” Twilight blushed. “We were just talking about . . . how much I enjoyed last night.”
The three others in the room watched Twilight with an amused expression.
“Really, Twilight?” The changeling queen stepped forward, leaning in close enough that Twilight could feel warm breath on her face. “Don’t think you can pull that on me. I’m a much more experienced liar.”
She kissed Twilight’s cheek before pulling away.
“I . . . I . . .” Twilight stammered.
“Go ahead and tell her, Applejack.”
“The party last night was to celebrate your engagement.”
“Engagement?” Twilight nearly choked on the word.
Chrysalis unleashed a hearty cackle. To Twilight, it sounded sweet and menacing simultaneously. A blinding flash of green light changed the queen into a mare, though still wearing the same color scheme as her true self. Her smaller frame fit snugly into the unoccupied chair beside her fiancée.
“Well you could at least try not to sound so disappointed,” Chrysalis scoffed.
“I’m not disappointed. Well, I am, but not about that. I mean . . . I wish I could remember. I’m sure it was great.” With each boggled explanation, Twilight grew more flustered.
The changeling’s annoyed look melted away. She placed a comforting hoof onto Twilight’s shoulder. “I’m messing with you. You don’t need to be so worried all the time.”
“I’ve been telling her that for years,” Spike said, his head still buried in the fridge.
The ponies erupted in a fit of giggling. Twilight’s reluctant amusement at her own expense shattered as a painful shock seared through her head. She gasped, pressing her hoof against her temple. The laughter ended abruptly.
“Twilight, are you alright?” Chrysalis was already out of her seat, searching for injuries.
“I’m alright.” Twilight took a deep breath. “Just a headache.”
Although she didn’t mean the statement as a lie, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a tingle of guilt for saying it. Her headaches tended to last all day, and mostly manifested in a dull throb. This felt different. A quick and excruciating jolt. New thoughts crawled into her head from an unknown source. Before she could even try to understand them, one spilled from her mouth.
“Chrysalis, how long have we been together?”
The changeling looked at Applejack, who responded with a shrug.
“Three months.” Her search turned up nothing, and Twilight seemed to be feeling better, so she leaned back in her chair.
“Three months?” Twilight questioned.
“I know it isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things. If you think we’re moving too quickly, we can wait a little longer. I just thought that you—”
“It’s fine. I just . . . had a weird thought,” Twilight explained.
Neither Chrysalis nor Applejack looked convinced, but they didn’t press the issue, much to Twilight’s relief. If they had, she doubted she could explain. Something about the answer sounded wrong, but she couldn’t pin down why.
“Perhaps you should see a doctor, just in case. You know, make sure everything’s still working upstairs,” Applejack suggested.
“I’m alright. I promise.”
“If you’re sure,” Chrysalis capitulated.
“I am.”
“I found it,” Spike announced, pulling a mostly intact pie from one of the shelves in the fridge. A single slice had been taken from the tin, allowing the apple filling to leak into the empty space.
“There should be a serving spatula in the drawer next to the sink,” Twilight called, the awkwardness of her episode already fading from her mind.
Spike retrieved the triangular serving utensil from its place. Clambering back up the stool, he set the dessert on the counter. With her magic, Twilight pulled four plates from one of the higher cabinet shelves, setting them on the counter close enough for Spike to load them. Once he finished, Twilight levitated the plates over to the table. Spike traded his stool for the last open chair at the kitchen table, passing out a collection of forks to his companions.
Spike, Applejack, and Twilight dug into their meal. Chrysalis merely observed, tilting her head as she considered her options.
“You alright?” Twilight asked, balancing a chunk of flakey crust on her mystically controlled fork.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had apple pie before,” Chrysalis stated.
“Well we ought to fix that right now,” Applejack nodded furiously. “I promise you’ll like it.”
Succumbing to the pressure, Chrysalis speared an apple slice with her silverware, hovering it up to her face for a closer look. Sugary amber dripped from the fruit. After a short visual inspection, Chrysalis bit the end off the slice. Her eyes widened at the sudden assaulting sweetness.
“Applejack, this is amazing!” she cried.
Twilight and Spike nodded in agreement.
“Well, as much as I would love to take credit for this delightful example of apple perfection, I’m afraid this isn’t my handiwork. I figured that such an occasion called for some true old-fashioned cooking. Consider it a gift from Granny Smith.” Applejack beamed. “But I will be sure to pass along your kind words.”
The four of them ate in silence, enamored by the skill of the Apple Family’s traditional cooking. Only after a second round did their voice return.
“Speaking of Granny Smith, we’re not keeping you from your work on the farm, are we, Applejack?”
“Don’t you worry about that, now. After last night, the girls and I decided that you might need someone to take care of you. I volunteered. Don’t you fret. Big Mac and Apple Bloom are more than capable of handling the chores until I get home.
“Still, I suppose I’d better be heading out soon. I’m sure the two of you would like to spend some time together without any bothersome guests.”
“Well, I did have an idea for something we could do today, but you can stay as long as you like, Applejack,” Chrysalis declared. “Any friend of Twilight’s is a friend of mine.”
“That’s mighty kind of you, but I think I’ll go ahead and get out of your hair for now. I’ll stop by later to check up on you if that’s alright?”
“That’s a long trip for you to make, Applejack. It’s not necessary. You go home and be with your family,” Twilight ordered.
“Alright, alright. I’ll be heading this way for a delivery tomorrow morning. I’ll check in with you then. You two take care of yourselves, now. I don’t want to be hearing about any more stunt flying out of you, Twilight.”
“No stunt flying. Got it,” Twilight pledged.
“Then I think it’s time I start heading home. I can show myself out.”
“Thanks for your help, Applejack.” Chrysalis waved.
Applejack tipped her hat one final time before slipping out of the kitchen and back into the main room. Even from here, they could hear the heavy front door open and close.
“So, Spike, you mentioned something about my schedule for today?” Twilight asked, clearing the table and depositing the dirty dishes into the sink.
“Oh, that. There were a few folks around town who were looking for advice with their friendship problems. I took the liberty of rescheduling everything for tomorrow.”
“I can handle it, Spike.”
“Too late. Plans have already changed. I’m afraid you have no choice but to enjoy your day off, Twilight.” The dragon smirked. “Oh, but before I forget, you did get a message from Celestia.”
“Oh?” Twilight perked up.
“She wanted me to remind you that the Gala is coming up soon. She also offered her services as an instructor, in case either of you needs lessons on proper high-society dancing etiquette. Whatever that means.”
“Twilight, you didn’t warn me that our relationship would require me to learn dancing. I’m not sure our love is capable of withstanding such hardships.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Dancing can be fun.”
“Is that why you avoid it whenever possible?” Spike snarked.
“Quiet, Spike,” Twilight snapped back.
“As fun as that sounds, I did have an idea for something we could do together today, if you think you’ve recovered enough,” Chrysalis piped in.
“Sheesh. You guys act like I’m so fragile. I’ve been thrown through a mountain for Celestia’s sake. A table or two can’t break me.” Twilight emphasized her tenacity by jumping up from her seat.
“Alright, calm down. I believe you.” Chrysalis waved.
“Then tell me what you’re planning. You’ve got me all excited for it.”
“A trip of sorts. I wanted to take you somewhere special.”
“Special?” Twilight considered the possibilities. “Any hints?”
Chrysalis shook her head intently, springing her mossy mane back and forth.
“Do we need to bring anything?” Twilight tried, hoping to glean some small piece of information from the secretive changeling.
“Nope.”
“Do I have to wear a blindfold?”
“If you . . . want to.” Chrysalis raised an eyebrow.
“I meant . . . nevermind. Let’s get going. I’m getting all anxious.”
To the denizens of Canterlot, the sight of a plush pink unicorn hardly warranted attention. In fact, in any other situation, she could have easily slipped through the crowded train station without drawing even the most curious gaze. At the current moment, however, every pony gathered in or near the station platform had their attention locked firmly on her.
Were she forced to give a reason for her sudden popularity, she would wager it had something to do with the baby dragon at her side.
“I mean, what if something happened to Twilight? What if Chrysalis escaped? What if she’s taken the princesses again? What are we going to do?”
Starlight sighed.
“Would you calm down, Spike? I’m sure you’re just getting yourself worked up over nothing. I’m sure they just called us back here because Twilight’s refusing to leave the library again. Remember last time?”
“Do you really think they’d pull us off an important mission like that just for that?”
“Probably. Even if that’s not the case, I’m sure it's not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”
The two of them bounded down the stairs to the cobblestone street. With a whistle and a wave, she called one of the horse-drawn carriages over to the curb where they waited. With a bag of bits and a destination for the driver, Starlight and Spike climbed aboard, settling into the red velvet benches.
The driver whistled, hauling the carriage out into the stream of traffic that flooded the street. Spike leaned his head out the window, watching the castle in the distance inch closer, silhouetted by the orange sunset.
Frowning, Starlight removed a watch from her bag, flipping open the engraved golden case to sneak a peek at the time.
“What’s the matter?” Spike asked, plopping back down in his seat.
“Nothing.”
She snapped the timepiece shut, tossing it back into the largest pocket of her bag.
“You’re frowning.”
“I frown. What about it?”
Spike twiddled his claws nervously. Each stop the carriage took elicited a barely audible groan from the dragon.
“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” Starlight leaned forward, exasperated.
“I’m not,” Spike whined, refusing to meet her gaze.
“You’re shaking the carriage,” she pointed out.
Spike’s leg froze in place, mid-bounce. He bit his lip, trying to hide the worry etching deeper into the lines of his face.
“Talk to me, Spike,” Starlight pressured.
“What if Celestia . . . What if she didn’t make it?”
Starlight offered the most sympathetic smile she could. “If something happened to any of the princesses, we’d be hearing about it. I doubt Cadence would send something so vague for such an important issue. Don’t you think?”
“Maybe.”
“Spike, stop worrying. Whatever they need us to do, we’ll get it done. Have you ever known Twilight to let something bad happen?”
“There was that one time we got taken by changelings.”
“And even then, I showed up to save the day. See, we’ve got this covered. And don’t sell yourself short. Whatever is going on, we’ve got two great heroes here to help, right?”
“I guess,” Spike muttered, unconvinced.
Starlight ruffled the scales on his head. In the corner of her vision, the sun hung low in the sky, mocking her with its pale light. She doubted anyone had noticed. If they had, there would probably be a few more panicking ponies in the streets.
The sun lagged a little under a half-hour behind.
By the time they reached the castle gates, the sun had finally set. Along with the darkness, the waning moon brought a sliver of comfort to the unicorn. Though their timing might have been off, at least someone had control of the heavens.
“You two have a fine evening.” The earth pony pulling the cart tipped his cap to his two passengers.
“You too. Thanks.”
Starlight watched the cabbie strut off, unimpeded by the weight of the wooden carriage hooked to him. Turning away from the street, she used her magic to pluck Spike off the sidewalk, setting him on her back. He latched to her mane to keep himself steady but made the extra effort to keep his grasp gentle. Her suitcase hovered beside her as the golden gates opened.
Two celestial guards bowed to Starlight as she approached. In the moonlight, the statue of the two sisters in the courtyard took on an ethereal sheen.
“Lady Glimmer. We received word of your arrival. Our sincerest apologies for not sending an officer to meet you at the station.” One of the guards raised his head.
“That’s quite alright. Can you tell me what’s happened?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have the answers you’re looking for. We were simply to direct you to Captain Iron Shield. He’s waiting for you in the throne room.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Starlight returned his bow as they opened the gate for her.
Inside, several extra guards had taken stations around the foyer. On her back, she could feel Spike tense up as he noticed the heightened security. An attendant approached Starlight, offering to take her bags to her room. She complied, relinquishing her possessions to the young servant. Unladen by her packs, she hurried up the stairs, her nerves frying under the stoic watch of ready soldiers.
At the top of the stairs, another pair of guards opened another grand door, revealing the throne room, in all its splendor. Sconces laden with shimmering lights felt meager compared to the umbral aura sinking in through the skylight. Even here, a dozen ponies were dressed in full plate armor, sharpened spears clutched tight. Standing at the head of the armored column, a greying stallion directed his underlings with a practiced calm.
“Captain Shield, I presume?” Starlight asked, marching boldly past the Captain’s guard.
“Ma’am.” The old soldier nodded. He waved away one of his soldiers, motioning for the unicorn to follow him as he approached the royal pedestal.
“What’s the situation, Captain?” Starlight braced herself.
“Where’s Twilight?” Spike demanded, dropping from the mare’s side.
“There’s been an incident. We’re still working out the details. I can take you to Captain Armor. He’ll have more information for you.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
At her command, the Captain started toward the upper levels. No matter which way she looked, Starlight noticed the gleam of armor. Whatever had happened, they emptied the barracks for the night.
“I told you something was wrong.” Spike scowled. Despite his confident strides to stay even with the Captain’s shadow, his claws were trembling. When they reached the upper levels, Captain Shield stepped aside, nodding his head toward the white stallion standing guard in the hallway.
Shining Armor kept his back to them, his focus pressed firmly toward the end of the hallway. Celestia’s bedroom doors had been barricaded. A faint shimmer of pink energy glistened against the doorframe. A few planks had been torn away, revealing inky black tendrils slinking through the cracks.
“I was only gone for a few days, Shining. What happened here?” Starlight stomped to Shining’s side. The unicorn’s horn glowed with its pink magic.
“I was hoping you’d get here quickly.”
“Where’s Twilight?” Spike demanded, verging on panic.
Shining turned back toward the door, bulging and buckling under some unseen force.
“I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know why it’s here. I do know that Luna, Celestia, Twilight, and Chrysalis were all inside when it appeared.”
“And where are they?”
“They’re still inside.”
The two newcomers turned toward the second voice. Thorax stood among the guards, dressed in black plates reminiscent of his old form.
“Thorax,” Starlight greeted.
“It’s good to see you two. I wish it were under better circumstances, though.”
Spike pushed his way past Starlight. “You said Twilight’s in there?”
“Yeah. Along with Queen Chrysalis and the other princesses.”
“Except for Cadence,” Shining Armor corrected.
“Does she know about this?” Starlight asked.
“She does. Until we can rescue the other princesses, she’s been leading a small group of unicorns. They’ve been trying to keep the sun and moon moving. It hasn’t been easy.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Spike interrupted again. “We’re going in to save them, right?”
“We sent in a vanguard, earlier. They returned an hour later, scared out of their wits. Whatever’s waiting on the other side, it’s not pretty.”
“I’ll go,” Starlight volunteered.
“No. That’s crazy,” Shining shot back.
“You know it’s not. I’ve got the magic to deal with whatever’s in there,” she explained.
“If she’s going, I’m going with her,” Thorax chimed in.
“No. It’s too dangerous. I brought you here to help contain this, not dive head-first into it,” Shining explained.
The sound of splintering wood echoed through the hall as another chunk of the door exploded outward. Dark ooze spilled out from the wound.
“We don’t seem to be swimming in options, Shining.”
“It’s a bad idea, Starlight. I’m not throwing you to the wolves like that.”
“I wasn’t asking, Shining. You asked me here to help, so that’s what I’m going to do. Drop the shield.”
Shining snarled. Another slam bent the door’s frame inward. The shield flickered for a moment as the force of the blow sent Shining to his knees.
“You can’t hold this forever,” Thorax observed. “Let us in. We’ll bring the others back. Then we can find a better way to get rid of this thing.”
“Fine,” Shining growled. He pushed himself back to his hooves. “I doubt I could stop you, anyways.”
“He’s finally learning,” Starlight cooed.
“Get ready. We won’t have much time when I drop the shield. Everyone else get back,” Shining announced.
His troops retreated, forming a new defensive line behind the group. Nodding, Starlight and Thorax pushed forward, taking positions outside the breach.
“Are you two really sure you want to do this?”
“I don’t know,” Starlight started. Even in this sinister moment, she couldn’t help but grin. She turned to the changeling king standing at her side. “You ready to save Equestria again, Thorax?”
To her amazement, the king returned her smile.
“Only if I get another medal for it. The first one’s getting lonely.”
“Let’s do this. We’re ready, Shining. Drop it.”
Shining Armor released his spell, lowering the shield. The doors tore open, spraying splinters over the crowd. Starlight raised a barrier to block the shrapnel. The bits that snuck by pinged harmlessly off the phalanx behind them.
With a final glance backward and a confident nod, the two stepped forward into the dark embrace, vanishing into the abyss.
Roaring in frustration, Shining relit his horn. Spike trembled by his hoof; his body frozen. His scales bristled and his claws trembled. Terror chased him to his core, making him sick. But standing there, cowering into himself, he found a sense of comfort, of familiarity. Memories of his caretaker raced through his mind.
“Twilight’s in danger. She could be hurt. She needs you,” Spike whispered.
The muttering voice caught Shining’s attention. He moved to block Spike, but the dragon moved swiftly, driven by an overwhelming determination.
“Don’t worry, Twilight. I’m coming to help, too.”
And with that, Spike charged into the portal after them.
Chrysalis recognized the callous caress of flattened rock and dirt long before she ever opened her eyes. She scrunched her nose, pushing back against the assaulting stench of wet earth. Somewhere in the dark distance, water dripped; a perfect mimicry of a ticking clock. With a deep breath, she peeled herself from her stone bed, staggering upward with the grace of a drunkard lying in the gutter.
The cave stretched on endlessly in front of her, lit by the fading green shimmer of gems embedded in the walls. Without knowing why, she pressed forward into the gaping maw. Stone columns pressed inward from the ceiling and floor: sharpened teeth inviting the changeling closer with a devilish grin.
She stumbled out of the dark into a massive chamber. Dozens of similarly featureless tunnels spun out in every direction. On the ceiling, larger variations of the same green crystals were embedded into gaps in the rock, casting the room in a deathly green light. A sickening familiarity washed over Chrysalis.
Following her instincts, she chose a tunnel on the left. As she walked, she timed each step with the splash of the omnipresent dripping. Her eyes drifted closed, casting away the deception of sight. Devoting her focus to the rest of her senses, she heard the buzzing of insect wings.
Her path finally ended at a set of monolithic iron gates. The familiar forms of changelings lined the engravings, all bowing in reverence to a central figure. A changeling queen. With a frustrated huff, Chrysalis kicked the doors open, revealing a seemingly endless hall.
Vaulted stone took the place of the sky, held aloft by impossibly proportioned pillars. The green crystals grew from the walls, illuminating the oppressive atmosphere. In the center of the room, an obsidian pillar rose from the floor, bearing a throne of finely hewn rock. A blood-red carpet welcomed the changeling’s approach.
Chrysalis recognized the room, of course. She spent most of her life here. She modeled her own throne room after it. A figure uncurled from the throne; her impressive stature hidden by the void.
A sultry voice boomed through the room.
“I was wondering when you would arrive, Chrysalis.”
“Forgive me. Next time, I’ll let the creatures of darkness know I’ve already got an appointment. I’m sure they’ll understand,” Chrysalis barked back.
“I see you have neglected your manners. Have you no decency, Child?”
“Not for you.”
The figure’s horn blazed green, unveiling the silhouette of the jagged, two-pointed horn sprouting from her forehead. A polished crown glittered in her deep blue mane.
“I see that. Do not worry, Dear. I shall take full responsibility for your failures. I should have known you required more thorough teaching.”
The beast rose from its throne, the dim light sending shadows swirling across her black shell. With unnatural poise, she glided down the stairs.
“I remember your lessons well. I still have the scars.”
Guided by centuries of survival, Chrysalis lowered herself.
“Then it seems you have forgotten the cost of disobedience. Perhaps I should remind you of that, instead?”
Chrysalis’ scars burned.
“I challenged you once, do you think I'm afraid to do so again?” Chrysalis threatened.
The creature laughed; a throaty, raspy cry that rattled the foundations of the mountain.
“Your body betrays your bravado, Chrysalis. You are trembling.”
The changeling could feel her hooves shaking, but she didn’t back down. She kept her gaze locked firmly on the approaching demon.
“I’m not afraid of you. Not anymore.”
She repeated the mantra in her head.
This was not real.
Thiscould not be real.
Another raucous cackle shook the world. Chrysalis felt the blood in her veins freeze, paralyzing every fiber of her being.
“I’m sorry, Twilight. I don’t remember it being this long of a trek. We can turn back if you’re getting tired.”
Twilight and Chrysalis had been walking through the forest for nearly an hour. Her hooves were sore. Regardless, she soldiered on, renewed by every bit of giddiness emanating from her fiancée.
“I’m not tired,” she emphasized. “I’m just excited. You can’t tell me that you have some big surprise for me then make me wait this long. It’s not fair.”
“I’m sure it will be worth it,” Chrysalis promised.
Twilight examined her surroundings. The Everfree Forest had lost much of its infamy over the years, but that didn’t make the monolithic trees and rustling foliage any less unnerving. For any normal pony, that is. To Twilight, the Everfree elicited more nostalgia than horror.
The greenery on the path’s left edge fell away, exposing a lake that stretched into the background. Twilight watched their reflections in the crystal-clear water. She frowned, noticing Chrysalis’ blurry doppelganger. The edges of the image rippled on the still, glassy surface.
“What do you think, Twilight?”
Chrysalis' voice derailed her train of thought. She glanced up at the changeling, then back down to the reflections. Both were picture-perfect.
“I think I shouldn’t try any more of Pinkie’s special recipes,” Twilight admitted.
“That’s not what I meant. I was talking about us.”
“Us?”
“Us.”
“I mean, what about us?”
Chrysalis deflated.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“Of course not. I said yes, didn’t I?”
“I know you did. I also know you, Twilight. I didn’t mean to pressure you into saying yes if you didn’t want to.”
“Chrysalis, I do. I swear. My head’s just spinning with everything going on at once. It’s excited panic, not panic panic.”
“That almost made sense.”
“Stick around, I usually almost make sense.”
Twilight sped up to be by Chrysalis’ side. She caressed the changeling with her wing.
“I think I will stick around for a bit. You’ve convinced me.” Chrysalis laughed, but soon turned somber again.
“You know this is crazy, right?”
“What’s crazy?”
“Marrying a changeling queen. I mean, I know the fine ponies in Ponyville have finally come around to it, but what about the rest of Equestria? I’m not exactly the most popular option for a royal bride.”
“If anyone has a problem with it, you tell them to take it up with me. I’ll set the record straight for them. I mean, you’re the one who saved Princess Celestia.”
“I didn’t save her.”
Twilight furrowed her brow.
“You didn’t?”
“We saved her.”
The purple princess rolled her eyes, giving Chrysalis a playful shove.
“You had me worried there for a second. I thought I might have actually knocked something loose during last night’s show.”
“I’m being serious though, Twilight. I don’t know if we’ll have an easy life together.”
“Chrysalis, are you implying that I’ve lived an easy life up until now? I’ve been thrown through mountains, attacked by monsters, been the cause – or victim – of several magical plagues, and even battled ancient primordial evils. Please tell me which part of that list was the easy part.”
“You’ve made your point,” Chrysalis relented.
“Besides. I don’t care if it’s easy. I care that it’s with you, Chrysalis.” Twilight nuzzled her neck affectionately.
Chrysalis blushed.
“I’m happy to be with you too, Twilight.”
The last leg of their journey passed in a comfortable silence. Neither of them needed words any longer.
The trees faded gradually, giving way to a lush green field. Beneath the blanket of dusk, Chrysalis stopped in a clearing toward the center of the plain. She buckled to the ground, kicking up a puff of dust as she landed.
“We’re here,” She announced, rolling onto her back.
“Where exactly is here?” Before receiving her answer, Twilight joined her love, flopping into the dust at her side.
“You’ll see. We have to wait for it to get dark, first.”
“More waiting? Are you trying to torture me?”
“Distance makes the heart grow fonder,” Chrysalis sneered.
“What?”
“Did I use that saying right?” The changeling shook her head. “Nevermind. I meant that the longer you wait, the sweeter the surprise will be.”
“I guess you have a point. Still, I’ll remember this whenever I have a surprise for you,” Twilight threatened.
Chrysalis chuckled.
“When you’re as old as I am, Twilight, waiting a day or two doesn’t mean much.” Chrysalis made a motion to brush something from her shoulder.
“And how old is that?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She teased.
“What’s it like, Chrysalis?”
“Being old?”
“Being immortal.”
Chrysalis wavered.
“It’s lonely. After a few centuries, you just start to feel numb.”
“How long were you alone?”
“A long time, Twilight. A very long time. But don’t you worry. No matter what happens, I’ll still be here for you, you know.”
“I know you will. Thank you.”
“Now enough of this dreary talk. This is supposed to be a joyful night. The show’s finally starting.”
Chrysalis pointed toward the sky, now veiled beneath a new moon.
Against the black backdrop, a blinding light arced across the sky. Followed closely by a second and third. Before long, countless lights filled the sky as stars streaked by, trailing a line of fire in their wake.
“It’s beautiful,” Twilight whispered, the glowing trails reflected in her unblinking eyes.
“I thought a beautiful mare deserved a beautiful sight.”
“I love it.”
“I told you it would be worth it.”
The two lay beneath the stars, watching the heavens ignite with passionate light. As the sun finally vanished completely beneath the horizon, the sky exploded with lights from every corner of the spectrum. Twilight couldn’t even think of names for some of the more exotic flares.
The peaceful silence shattered as a dark vortex opened in the field, drawing their attention from the picturesque evening. A hellish scream echoed through the empty air.
In a flash of pink light, Twilight appeared on her hooves, wings flared and horn glowing. Chrysalis scrambled up behind her.
“Is this part of the show, Chrysalis?” Twilight demanded.
“It's not supposed to be.”
Shapes swirled in the abyss, taking mocking forms of creatures Twilight had only seen in nightmares. She readied her magic as the portal swelled, spitting forth a hideous beast from its depths. A baby dragon smashed into the earth, bouncing slightly on his scales.
“Spike?” Twilight screeched.
“Ow,” the dragon muttered, rubbing his chin with a claw.
“Careful, Twilight.” Chrysalis stepped in front, shielding Twilight with an outstretched leg. “It could just be a monster fooling you with a disguise. Don’t let your guard down.”
“Right.” Twilight nodded.
The portal rippled, another shadow spilling out in the form of Starlight Glimmer.
“So, this is the unspeakable terror awaiting us, huh?”
“Ow,” Spike groaned. He lay face-down in the dirt, massaging his face.
“We told you not to run,” Starlight said, adopting Twilight’s lecturing tone. She yanked Spike to his feet with a spell.
“We need to find Twilight,” Spike ordered, his voice muffled slightly.
“For what purpose, Creatures?”
The trio turned toward the voice. Chrysalis stood only a few feet away, standing guard for an angry-looking purple alicorn.
“Hey, we found them both. That was easier than I expected,” Thorax mused.
“They don’t exactly look happy to see us,” Starlight noted, backing away slowly.
“Queen Chrysalis, Princess Twilight, are you alright?” Thorax called, waving.
“Who are you? What do you want with us?” Twilight snapped.
“Easy, Twilight. Shining Armor sent us in to rescue you,” Starlight explained.
“What happened to Shining Armor? Explain yourselves,” Twilight demanded.
“Calm down, Twilight. Don’t you remember what happened? The two of you were caught in some sort of explosion. Whatever it was, it released some sort of monster into the castle. Shining’s been holding the line, but we need to hurry. Come on.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you until I know what you are.”
“What we are?” Thorax fumbled.
“We’re the rescue party. I haven’t been gone that long, Twilight. Are you telling me you’ve already forgotten your favorite student?”
“Starlight’s back in Ponyville at Trixie’s show. Try again.” Chrysalis fired a beam of green energy at Spike’s feet, carving a line in the mud.
Slicking back his scales, Spike stepped forward, erasing the line in the dirt with his claw. Immediately, a burst of energy tore through the night, crashing against a light blue barrier only inches from the dragon.
“I said stay back,” Chrysalis warned.
“Change of plans. Thorax, keep the fake off us, okay?”
“Got it.”
“Spike, you’re with me,” Starlight ordered.
“I won’t hurt Twilight.”
“I’m not asking you to. Just follow my lead.”
“You’ve been warned,” Twilight shouted, gathering energy for another attack.
“We’re not here to fight, Twilight.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Alright. Just remember that you asked for this, Twilight. Thorax, now.”
On cue, Thorax bounded forward, weaving between Chrysalis’ bolts. Wreathing himself in a green blaze, he rushed forward, his wings howling angrily as he tore through the night. He slammed into his fake queen, unleashing a blast of power as he tackled her down into the mud.
“Chrysalis?” Twilight gasped. She turned, readying a strike to knock Thorax away.
Seizing the opportunity, Starlight spranginto action, dashing toward her instructor. Spike vanished in blue haze, reappearing at Twilight’s exposed flank.
“Grab her, Spike,” Starlight commanded, throwing up a shield to protect Thorax.
Reluctantly, Spike threw himself at Twilight, latching onto her mane.
“Twilight, please. We don’t want to hurt you,” Spike pleaded.
Twilight vanished, reappearing farther back. Starlight was waiting. Before the princess’ teleportation could recharge, Starlight unleashed a hail of energy. Reflexively, Twilight conjured her magic, blocking the mystic rain.
“Messing with the element of magic is a bad idea,” Twilight warned, her horn blazing with purple fury. Rearing back on her hind legs, a vortex of energy swirled around her head. With a shout of frustration, Twilight unleashed a blinding beam of magic.
Starlight blinked to the side, still close enough to singe a few furs. She skidded to a stop, galloping perpendicularly as Twilight swept her beam across the field, tearing chunks of rock from the ground.
“Twilight, stop this.” Spike clambered up Twilight’s side, lunging for her horn.
In a desperate play, Twilight bucked, sending her magic careening into the sky. Her hoof connected with Spike’s chest, sending him back down into the dirt.
“That hurt, Twilight,” Spike whined.
“You’re not Spike.”
“I am, though. Twilight? Please, you have to believe me. I came here to rescue you.”
Spike advanced slowly, his hands raised in surrender.
Each step he took sent Twilight back one.
“Spike, stop. She’s not thinking straight.” Starlight sped forward, hoping to reach Spike before he could get hurt.
“No. You’re lying. You’renot Spike.”
“Twilight . . . “ Spike pressed onward, on the verge of tears. His surrendering arms moved outward, begging for her embrace.
“You’re . . . not . . . Spike.”
Twilight trembled. Torn between what she should do and what she wanted to do, she panicked, unleashing a torrent of energy from her body in the form of a burning shockwave.
“Spike!” Starlight cried.
Before Spike could react, the magic slammed into his body, tearing him from the ground and sending him soaring through the air. He landed hard, rolling a few feet before finally stopping, face-down in the dirt.
“Spike?”
Starlight rocketed to his side, kneeling over the wounded dragon, shielding him from further harm. His breathing was pained. A scorched line trailed across his chest where his scales had been torn away. At Starlight’s touch, the dragon curled inward.
“Alright, Twilight. If that’s how it has to be,” Starlight growled. She turned toward the princess, her magic blazing.
But Twilight didn’t notice. She fell to her knees, unable to draw her focus from the dragon. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She held a hoof over her mouth.
“Spike?”
Starlight sighed, extinguishing her power.
“He didn’t want to hurt you.”
Starlight lifted Spike from the mud, lowering him onto her back. He clung to her mane with muddy claws, still curled into a ball. A morose Starlight marched forward, reaching out for Twilight as she went.
The princess didn’t bother to stop her.
Starlight took Twilight’s head firmly between her hooves, forcing her to look away from the ailing Spike.
“He’s alright, Twilight. But if you really want to help him, you have to listen to me. We’re not your enemies.”
“Okay,” Twilight sobbed, still dazed.
“Focus on me. I’m real. Spike is real. Thorax is real. We’re the only ones who are real.”
“But Chrysalis—”
“That isn’t Chrysalis. Not really. She’s just a product of this world. She’s a product of this twisted world.”
“No . . . I . . . we were . . . I can’t . . .”
An idea flickered in Starlight’s mind.
“Twilight, how did you heal Celestia?”
The question wrenched her from her downward spiral.
“What?”
“How did you heal Celestia?”
“I . . . me and Chrysalis . . . we . . . we . . .”
In a moment of clarity, Twilight’s reality shattered.
Chrysalis kicked at Thorax, beating at his chest plate.
Thorax snarled. Even with her immense strength, her strikes couldn’t punch through his magic defense. Still, he could feel his reserves running low.
“You have a lot of nerve to call me a thing. You’re the poorest excuse for a changeling I’ve ever seen.”
While he couldn’t shake the awkwardness of threatening his mother, Thorax thought the real Chrysalis would be proud of him for it. He reared back, renewing his strength as he pinned her to the earth.
“That’s enough, you two.”
Twilight’s voice echoed in the night. She and Starlight appeared at the edge of the clearing, both nursing slight burns. Spike clung silently to Twilight’s back.
“Is that really you, Twilight?”
“She’s back to normal. Well, Twilight normal, anyways,” Starlight explained.
Convinced, Thorax released the fake Chrysalis, hopping back to join his friends.
Chrysalis’ fake stumbled to her feet; her crown hung askew.
“Twilight, what are you doing? Don’t tell me you believe them?”
“I do.”
The false Chrysalis cowered before the trio.
“Twilight, you trust them over me?”
Twilight could hear legitimate pain in her voice. She turned her head.
“I thought you loved me, Twilight?” Chrysalis said, recoiling.
“I love Chrysalis. You’re not the real Chrysalis, though, are you?”
“What are you talking about, Twilight? Of course I’m the real Chrysalis,” the fake Chrysalis pleaded.
“Let me try,” Thorax said, stepping forward. “What did you call me when we were part of the same hive?”
“Thorax,” the imposter scoffed, as if it were the simplest question in the world.
“My name is Thorax. My designation is ‘I – six – two – nine – five’.”
“Is that supposed to prove anything?” Chrysalis spat.
“The real Chrysalis would’ve known that. She gave it to me. And, it’s how she referred to me when I was part of her hive,” Thorax explained. The terror on her face made his chitin itch.
“And you wouldn’t have a clue,” Starlight interrupted. “Because Twilight doesn’t know that, either.”
Chrysalis collapsed. She hung her head, letting her mane fall flat against her neck.
“Maybe I’m not the real Chrysalis, but I love you, Twilight.”
“I know you do. I never doubted that. But I have to save Chrysalis.”
“You could stay here with me,” the imposter pleaded. “We could be happy together, living a fairy-tale life here. A perfect life.”
“A perfect lie,” Twilight corrected.
“Please don’t do this to me, Twilight. I don’t want to be alone here.”
“Don’t worry.” Twilight frowned. “You won’t be.”
The princess turned, heading for the blackened portal that had brought her salvation. None of her companions spoke as they followed her through. None of them turned to see the world wither behind them. The fake Chrysalis closed her eyes, wiping away a tear as she faded into dust.
“Are you okay?” Starlight raised a comforting hoof to Twilight’s shoulder.
“Probably not,” Thorax interjected. “Even knowing she wasn’t real didn’t make that any easier to watch.”
“Drop it,” Twilight commanded, stepping out of the dark tunnel and onto paved stone.
“Sorry,” The others chimed in unison.
The portal spat them out into a dark hallway. Twilight noted the similarities to Canterlot Castle, though shrouded in shadow. The only light poured in from the full moon outside.
“I take it Luna had something to do with this?” Starlight motioned to the white orb. “I mean, moonlight. Dreams. Seems like her kind of place.”
“Yeah,” Twilight muttered. “We tried to heal Celestia. It didn’t work. Luna panicked. She unleashed something.”
“Nightmare Moon?” Starlight shuddered at the thought of facing down the villain.
“I don’t think so. She doesn’t look like Nightmare Moon. If I had to guess, I’d say it was more like the Tantabus.”
“The what?” Thorax tilted his head.
“The Tantabus,” Starlight started. “It’s kind of like a dream monster. Luna created one to punish herself for the whole Nightmare Moon debacle. But Twilight defeated it. At least, I thought she did.”
“I don’t think it’s the Tantabus either, but it’s similar.”
“Oh. Dream monsters. You know, ever since I met you guys, my life has gotten a lot more interesting.”
“Really? Must have been pretty boring.” Starlight shrugged.
“I guess. Why? What did you do before meeting Twilight?” Thorax tilted his head in amusement.
“I ruled over a town, using my magic to make every pony equal.”
“She started a cult,” Twilight barked.
“I guess you could call it cult if you really wanted to. That doesn’t matter anymore, though. I’m past that.”
Twilight glanced back at the way they arrived from. The portal vanished, leaving behind a gate marked with Twilight’s six-point star. An evil version of her bedroom.
“If that’s where you found me, then Chrysalis should be up here.” Twilight pointed to a door down farther down the hall.
“I’d imagine so,” Thorax added.
“Wait. Hold on a second. She got one of the royal guest rooms? Why do I have to stay in on the lower levels when I visit the castle, then?” Starlight pouted.
“We’ll add that to the list of discussions we desperately need to have.” Twilight led the group to Chrysalis’ door. She stopped just far enough to reach the handle. Instead of opening, the door vanished, replaced with the same swirling vortex from before.
“Thorax, any clue what we’re going to see on the other side?” Starlight questioned.
“I can only imagine.” Thorax shook his head.
“If we’re lucky,” Starlight began, “we might just have to fight off a fake Twilight. Heck, that’s assuming Chrysalis hasn’t figured it out on her own, yet. She’s not so easy to fool.”
“Thanks,” Twilight said flatly.
“Sorry.”
“Let’s just get going.”
With a deep breath, Twilight stepped inside. The castle faded away, leaving them in a swirling black tunnel. Briefly, Twilight thought of those spinning funhouse tunnels she saw at the fairgrounds. The memory made her dizzy.
The other end of the tunnel deposited the group in a cave. A few feet away, a grand oak gate blocked their path.
“A changeling hive?” Thorax’s wings buzzed.
“Twilight’s dream took her home. Shouldn’t Chrysalis’?” Starlight’s horn flickered with blue energy, pushing back the sickly green of the wall crystals.
“Except this isn’t Chrysalis’ hive.”
“How can you tell?” Twilight inquired.
“The air’s too humid for the dry season of the wasteland. If it were the rainy season, you’d hear the thunder from here.”
“Do you know of any other hives?”
“Just mine, and it's not this dreary.”
“Then be prepared for anything. We’re in unexplored territory now.”
Twilight pressed a hoof to the oak wood. Thorax pressed against the second door. With their combined might, the gate cracked open. Starlight lagged behind, readying a shield.
The filthy cave opened into an embellished great hall.
The trio stepped forward hesitantly, waiting for the sudden spring of the trap.
“More guests for my halls?”
The newcomers formed up, covering the flanks and allowing Twilight to take point against the shadowy figure unraveling from its throne. Twilight kept her head held high against the encroaching darkness.
“Had I known you would be visiting, I would have prepared a warmer welcome.”
Her dulcet tones radiated through the stone hall, causing Twilight’s heart to flutter. The lulling cadence made her eyelids heavy, sapping the strength from her body.
“Please step forward, Twilight. I have been anxious to meet you.”
“Twilight!”
Thorax swept past Twilight, blocking her path with his foreleg. The swift movement snapped Twilight from her trance. Without noticing, she took several steps forward.
“And you must be Thorax.”
“Where’s Chrysalis?” Thorax shot back.
“Such impatience. Should we not delight in greetings before we are bogged down in business? You are being quite rude.”
“Where is she?” His tone grew dark, his voice sounded nothing like Thorax.
“Very well. I see you are eager to begin. Then we shall.”
The figure rose from her throne, sauntering down the steps. As she stepped into the light, she stopped, allowing her guests to gawk at her slender form. She shared many traits with Chrysalis, but with enough obvious changes to separate the two. A long sea-blue mane cascaded down her shoulders. Her glassy-black horn split at the end, resulting in two sharp hooks that crackled with potential. She stalked forward with an arrogant stride, swinging back and forth in a hypnotizing pattern.
Most of all, she radiated horror. Though she stood only a head taller than Chrysalis, her imposing aura made her titanic. A goddess draped in mortal flesh, incomprehensible to the pathetic creatures’ blank awe.
“Who are you?” Twilight asked, her words caught somewhere between anger and adoration.
“I see at least the Princess has a bit more tact. I am Queen Iris.”
“Iris?” Thorax mewled.
“Queen Iris,” she amended.
“You know her, Thorax?” Starlight inquired.
“Only the name.”
“Such a shame. It would seem my dear Chrysalis has neglected her duties far beyond what I originally believed. Fret not, I will ensure she is punished for such transgressions.”
“I won’t let you lay a hoof on her,” Thorax roared, his earlier passion returned.
“You are far too late for such idle threats, Child. I have already seen to her discipline.”
Thorax snarled.
Starlight and Twilight watched their companion cautiously, unsure of his newfound aggression.
“We’re here to take her back,” Twilight explained. “We won’t let you stop us.”
“I have no intention of interfering, Princess. She is yours for the taking. Chrysalis, your friends have arrived. They wish to take you from this place.”
Behind her, atop the stone altar, a new figure emerged beside the throne. This one moved methodically, focusing on each step. When she reached the bottom, the green light revealed the visage of Chrysalis. This version appeared softer, complete with the filed stump on her forehead.
“Chrysalis?” Thorax approached slowly.
“As you can see, she is none the worse for wear. Go on. Step forward and take her.”
“Chrysalis, we’re here to rescue you,” Twilight exclaimed, sprinting past Iris to her friend’s side.
“I do not need rescuing, Twilight,” Chrysalis’ declaration sounded stilted and flat. The vibrant emerald flair in her eyes had faded to a listless jade.
“I know this world might seem real, but it isn’t. We’re trapped in Luna’s dreamscape,” Twilight explained.
“I do not care. I have no intention of leaving my Queen.”
“Such a shame.” Queen Iris’ stoic mask twisted into a malicious smile. “It would seem the young Royal has no intention of joining you.”
“What did you do to her?” Twilight demanded, summoning her magic.
“I simply reminded her of her place. A disobedient changeling has no place in my hive. Chrysalis, would you mind escorting them out? We have quite the long day ahead of us.”
“Let her go,” Twilight commanded.
“As I said, Princess Twilight, she is free to go. If she does not wish to accompany you, I cannot force her.”
“She’s not free to do anything. You’re controlling her.”
“I will not have my methods questioned by a lowly pony. Neither will I suffer such insults lightly. However, I am merciful. From one Royal to another, I will allow you this slight. But I will not tell you again: Leave my home, or I shall be forced to remove you.”
“We’re not leaving without Chrysalis.”
“I see you have made your choice. Very well.”
Queen Iris motioned to some unseen force. Half a dozen globs of dark mist poured from the shadows, taking the rough shape of a changeling drone. Their bodies were mangled; twisted by the nightmare of their creation. The queen herself turned her back to the impending melee, absently fluffing her mane.
“I want them alive,” she ordered.
Hissing, the drones lunged forward.
Starlight erected a barrier, forming a wall between the approaching threats and her friends. “I can handle these. You go get Chrysalis.”
With her plan revealed, Starlight returned her attention to the drones. With a wave of her head, she sent her shield crashing to the ground, smashing her opponents. Their forms dissolved momentarily, slipping free in a plume of smoke.
“You sure you can handle it, Starlight?” Twilight asked. More of the creatures spawned from the darkness.
“I’ve got her back. You guys do what you need to. We’ll buy you time.” Spike leapt from Twilight’s back. Though his movements were sluggish, he refused to falter.
One of the drones vanished into mist, slipping past Starlight’s magic. It lashed forward with its wicked horn. Starlight tried to pull back her shield, but it moved too quickly. She braced for the pain, only for the beast to vanish in a blast of dragon fire.
“Spike?” Starlight twirled around to face him.
“Us heroes have to stick together, don’t we?” Spike positioned himself at Starlight’s flank, incinerating anything that managed to break through her onslaught.
“Come on, Twilight.” Thorax grabbed her leg, pulling her away from the fray.
“Will they be able to win that?” Twilight cast a worried glance over her shoulder.
“They just need to hold them off while we deal with Iris. We bring her down, we free Chrysalis from her control. I need you to focus, Twilight.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve handled my fair share of battles.”
“I’m counting on you, then.”
The two challengers started their ascent up the throne steps. Iris waited in her seat, tracing bored circles in the air.
“Face us, Iris,” Thorax demanded.
The changeling queen cackled. “Why would I do that when I have my changelings to do it for me?”
“Your drones won’t be coming to help you,” Twilight clarified.
“I was not referring to them. Chrysalis? Your queen has need of you. Deal with these two, would you kindly?”
“Yes, my queen.”
Chrysalis’ body unpetrified. Thorax halted his assault.
“What are you doing?” Twilight called back.
“We can’t take them both. We’ll have to split them up. You take Iris, I’ll take Chrysalis,” Thorax insisted.
“Try not to hurt her,” Twilight muttered as she pushed forward toward Iris.
“Believe me, it’s not her that I’m worried about.”
Despite her size, Chrysalis moved quicker than her counterpart from Twilight’s dream. She rushed Thorax, tackling him over the edge of the stairs before he could think to dodge.
The two changelings crashed to the floor, locked in an antagonistic embrace.
Chrysalis’ fangs dug into Thorax’s shoulder, drawing a stream of blue blood, even through his armor. He responded with a headbutt, sending her sprawling with his reinforced antlers.
She dropped low, snaking forward for another attack. This time, Thorax met her charge head-on. The moment before they clashed, Thorax erupted with green flame, his equine body morphing into a two-legged beast.
With a cry of defiance, Thorax swung a meaty fist through the air.
The sudden appearance of a minotaur took Chrysalis by surprise, leaving her exposed for a jarring punch. She skittered across the stone floor, shaking her senses back into place as she wiped the warmth from her busted lip.
“I’m really sorry about this, Mom,”
Thorax scraped his hoof against the floor, lining his new set of horns directly toward his mother. With an earthshaking howl, he clomped forward, bearing down on the changeling with all the rage he could muster.
Twilight didn’t dare to look back. She could feel Thorax’s cries reverberating through the stone. As she neared the top of the staircase, the changeling queen finally noticed her.
“I must admit. That little changeling surprises me. I did not think him capable of such feats.” Iris unraveled from her throne, ready to meet the princess’ magic.
“We’re full of surprises,” Twilight promised.
The queen’s eyes glowed with mystic energy. She led her shot, firing a bolt directly in Twilight’s path. The alicorn grinned, blinking out of existence with a quiet pop. The queen had only a moment to comprehend her surprise before a burning beam of magic struck her back, sending her careening down the stairs.
Twilight’s wings flapped forcefully, ignoring the pain spearing through her spine. A wisp of smoke emanated from her horn.
“You will regret that.”
Emerald lightning flashed across her body, gathering at her crown.
Twilight’s body moved instinctively, rocketing high into the air.
A droning whine rang through the room as Iris unleashed her magic in the form of a beam. Twilight twirled through the air, the heat of the blast scorching her tail. Iris laughed as her power tore a hole clean through the stone, breaking through the mountain to unveil the cool night air.
As quickly as Twilight moved, the magic moved faster. Before it could catch her, she blinked away.
Iris reacted instantly, ceasing her spell and firing a lash of magic behind her, scoring a direct hit against Twilight’s chest. The alicorn flailed wildly as the force knocked her wings out of rhythm, sending her crashing to the floor.
Twilight brushed the debris from her fur as she regained her footing. The queen moved in close, slamming her hooves in the ground, cracking the earth where her opponent had been only a moment prior.
Magic flashed as Twilight blinked around the room, the heat building in her head as her magic started to take its toll. No matter how many times she tried, the changeling followed her perfectly, clipping her with blast after blast.
“You’re predictable.”
Before Twilight could fully appear, she cast the spell again, taking her even farther. The changeling had already accounted for the next move, catching Twilight off guard with a hoof. She slammed her into a nearby column, keeping the princess pinned with a sharpened horn through her arm.
Twilight screamed through her teeth; her leg numbed. The changeling’s grin widened. Smoke billowed from Twilight’s wound as Iris’ magic seeped in.
The changeling queen pulled free, letting Twilight slide down the pillar. She hit the ground, the force knocking her over onto her side. A burning sensation wormed through her body in the form of blackening veins. Twilight struggled to stand, but her damaged body wouldn’t allow it.
“Chrysalis, are you still playing with that toy?” Iris mused, kicking dust into the Princess’ face.
Thorax had driven Chrysalis into the floor, keeping her pinned with his immense strength. She thrashed beneath him, driving a hoof into his stomach. The blow knocked him off balance, but he refused to relinquish his prey.
“Chrysalis, you have to fight this. We need your help,” Thorax begged, watching the wounded Twilight crawl back toward the fight.
“I have to fight you,” Chrysalis spat. “My queen demands it.”
She lunged upward, driving the nub of her horn through his chin.
Thorax grit his teeth, fighting to ignore the taste of blood on his tongue.
“Such a disgusting form.”
The minotaur turned to the new voice, only for a leg to catch him in the throat, knocking him away from Chrysalis.
“Thank you for saving me, my queen.” Chrysalis coughed, desperate for air.
“You are a pathetic excuse for a changeling, Chrysalis.”
“Shut up,” Thorax growled.
Iris turned lazily toward him, firing a jade beam through his leg, toppling him. He endeavored to regain his footing, but the changeling queen pressed him back down with the full weight of her stature.
Thorax gasped for air, clawing at the chitinous leg on his throat. His consciousness wavered, forcing him back into his colorful changeling form. The change didn’t fix the bleeding hole in his leg.
“And this . . . thing?” Iris swung her head. “This is the most promising of your spawn? I hesitate to even call him a changeling.”
“Apologies, my queen,” Chrysalis bowed.
“We shall simply teach you to do better.” Iris summoned her strength, cracking the stone beneath Thorax. The edges of his vision started to blur.
“Of course, my queen.” Though Chrysalis spoke to her queen, she had her lifeless eyes locked on Thorax. For a moment, the dying changeling thought he saw a spark in her face. Although that may have been a last fanciful dream of his desperate mind.
“At least he will make a decent meal. Sit there and watch how a true queen punishes the unworthy.”
Iris lowered her head toward Thorax. A faint aura of magic gathered around the spire protruding from her forehead. The same mist radiated from Thorax’s skin. His senses numbed as the changeling queen tore the energy from his body.
“Thorax?” Twilight whispered. The room spun around her.
Thorax glanced toward the princess. Her eyes had blackened, her form limp as the changeling’s poison burned in her veins. On his other side, Starlight and Spike were battling desperately, the horde of corrupted beasts washing over them like a flood. Chrysalis stood behind her queen, unmoving and unmoved.
“Chrysalis . . .” Thorax croaked.
She didn’t turn away. Neither would she meet his gaze.
“No matter what happens to me . . .”
“Are you going to beg, Creature? It will not save you,” Iris blared.
“I love you, Mom . . .”
As his life drained away, Thorax’s body numbed. The color faded from his chitin, falling away like dust as he withered. Even when Iris released her hold, he continued to rasp, his lungs failing.
Chrysalis shuddered. Memories flickered through her mind of her changelings.
Little Thorax. Always so desperate for love and attention. The nursery attendants had told her over and over again that he would never be a true changeling. Something in his mind had warped before birth. As she cradled the small creature in her arms, she never heard their pleas.
Now, that same little changeling wasted away before her eyes.
She screamed, trapped in the dark void of her own mind. She roared for her body to move, but it refused to heed her. She cried out for Twilight. For Starlight. For Spike, even. For someone to save her son. They didn’t hear her.
Thorax’s mouth twisted into a smile as his eyes closed.
Chrysalis shook. A tear streaked down her cheek. The spark of life in her eye flickered.
“Chrysalis?”
She glanced down at Twilight, laid out on the floor, damaged. She trailed a streak of blackening blood across the hall. She collapsed, her hoof outstretched for the one she loved.
Something snapped in Chrysalis’ mind.
Her changeling instincts shattered. Her will to live broke. Her mind reeled.
“You may finish him if you like.” Iris stepped away, drinking in the last drops of life she took from Thorax.
“I’ll . . . kill . . . you.”
Iris turned to Chrysalis. Tears streamed down her face, her fangs grinding to a blunt edge as she gritted her teeth.
“Now, now, Chrysalis. We have been through this before. You know what happens if you struggle.” With her new strength, Iris grasped Chrysalis in her magic. Black lightning arced through her body, searing her flesh with white-hot pain.
Chrysalis’ knees buckled, but she willed herself to stay standing.
“Wipe those tears away, girl. A princess doesn’t cry.”
Chrysalis' body burned. Her chitin itched as the energy tore bits of it away.
“I’m through . . . listening to you,” Chrysalis growled.
“Still struggling? Perhaps you are simply a lost cause after all.”
“You’re not my mother. You’re sure as hell not my queen,” Chrysalis’ eyes burned with zealous fury.
“I am everything you failed to be. I am what haunts you. That will never change. No matter where you go. No matter what you do. You are a failure, Chrysalis.”
Chrysalis forced her legs to hold her weight. She raised her head with a cry of defiance.
“Maybe I am.”
She turned to Thorax. “I failed my changelings.”
She turned to Starlight and Spike. “I failed my friends.”
She glanced down at Twilight. “I failed the ones I love.”
“But I’m tired of it. I’m tired of this failure. I won’t live in your shadow any longer.”
“You cannot escape me, Chrysalis.”
“I don’t need to escape you. I will destroy you.”
“I am a part of you. Try as you might, you will never be free of me.”
“A part of me? Don’t make me laugh. You’re just a bad dream.”
The ground beneath Chrysalis shattered. Green energy sifted up through the fissure.
“I am-“
“You’re nothing but a bad dream, trapped in my head.”
“I will-“
The ground erupted in a column of emerald fire, consuming Chrysalis.
Twilight’s eyes flew open. Her wound sealed; the poison faded.
The changelings that held Spike and Starlight melted away.
Thorax gasped for air as his color returned.
“What is this?” Iris demanded, glancing desperately back and forth as her victory crumbled.
“I’m through being what others tell me to be.”
Chrysalis’ lips curled into a sadistic smile.
“You are nothing but a bad dream.”
I’ll show you a nightmare.
The emerald inferno creeped outward. Twilight retreated from the encroaching flame, though it did not burn her.
A shape writhed in the fire.
Chrysalis howled, her insane laughter growing deeper until it resembled the cry of a behemoth.
Iris cowered as the flames extinguished.
An ear-splitting roar shook the mountain, raining stone from cracks in the ceiling.
Twilight watched in awe as the creature unfurled in front of her.
A black dragon rose to its full height, its serpent-like head swaying curiously as it inched forward toward Queen Iris. Chrysalis opened her mouth, revealing a set of razor-sharp white teeth. Drawing a deep breath, she unleashed her breath, obliterating the throne room in a cataclysmic storm of dragon fire.
Queen Iris staggered back. The burning flames licked at her shell, sending long, forking cracks through her chitin. She raised a foreleg over her eyes, shielding them from the intense heat. Her mane ignited.
“Where’s Thorax?” Starlight asked, helping Twilight stand. Spike appeared over her shoulder to assess the situation.
“I don’t know,” Twilight yelled back, barely audible over the crackling of fire.
Iris whipped her horn through the air, pressing back the attack with a shield of hexagonal green glass.
Chrysalis stopped to catch her breath. Several small bonfires around the room had become self-sustaining as they consumed the swirling banners and wooden structure.
“You insolent bug,” Iris shouted, her shield shattering and her calm veneer twisting.
“Silence,” Chrysalis roared, slamming her claws down into the stone. The resulting quake knocked the changeling to the floor. The dragon flared her wings. The columns toppled under the sheer force of the gale. The flames quivered ferociously but did not extinguish.
“There.” Starlight tapped Twilight on the shoulder, drawing her attention to the stunned Thorax still lying in a crater.
Twilight unleashed her magic, teleporting Thorax to the two ponies.
“You alright?” Twilight asked, pulling the changeling to the most undamaged section of the room.
“I think so. What did I miss?” He asked, gesturing toward the dragon.
“I think your mom has anger issues,” Starlight joked.
“That’s Chrysalis?” He choked.
The dragon crawled forward, her wicked claws tearing through the stone into the dirt beneath it with each step. Iris cowered beneath the creature, an unfamiliar sensation of exhaustion enveloping her.
Chrysalis lowered her head, pulling back her lips to display her oversized cuspids.
“Stay back,” Iris commanded. She tried to retreat from the dragon, only for her back to hit the wall.
“Goodbye, Iris. Return to the oblivion you deserve,” Chrysalis snarled. Her fangs glittered as the flames tore through them, now pulled tight into a stream of heat, rather than the sweeping bellows from before.
Iris tried to summon her shield, but her magic refused to heed her call. The ancient changeling queen could only watch as the flames poured forth, their agonizing embrace reflected in her final hopeless stare.
She closed her eyes, bracing for the inevitable.
It wasn’t the pain that caught Iris off guard. Rather, she found herself smiling as her chitin tore away. Even above the roar of dragon-fire, a mad cackle echoed through the hall. Twilight and the other observers, squinted through the flames, watching the doomed changeling rear up on her hind legs.
Iris tried to steady her form with her wings, only for them to disintegrate in a cloud of ash. Her laughter tore through both the nightmare and its denizens. Strangest of all, even to Iris herself: the laugh sounded joyful. One final moment of agony lost in a fit of maniacal bliss.
Even bound in the knowledge that she was nothing but a fake, Iris’ final breath held nothing but pride in her daughter.
Her body fell to pieces. The pieces fell to ash. The ash fell to shadow, snaking away through fissures tearing open in the dream space.
A flash of green left Chrysalis, now back in her sleek black form, standing amidst the ruins of her own Armageddon.
“Everyone alright?” Chrysalis called, stretching her more familiar equine features.
“Are we alright? Are you alright?” Twilight shook her head. She galloped toward the changeling, nearly knocking her over as she tackled her lovingly.
“It doesn’t matter how I am.” Chrysalis accepted a quick squeeze from the alicorn before pushing her back. “I nearly killed you all.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve had to dodge dragon fire,” Twilight explained.
“I don’t mean that. I’m not that oblivious, Twilight. I meant with Iris. I couldn’t control myself, but I was still aware of everything that happened. I thought I was going to lose you,” Chrysalis muttered.
“I’m fine too, by the way,” Thorax snarked, stepping up to join the group. Starlight followed, Spike still attached to her shoulder.
“Thorax. I’m sorry. I should have intervened sooner.”
“Would you relax?” Thorax smiled. Though most of his color had returned, portions of his chitin had already thinned, reduced to grey powder clinging to his body.
“What part of what just happened should I be calm about?”
“I’ll tell you what you should be focused on,” Starlight intervened. “Did you just turn into a dragon?”
“I did.”
“Since when could you do that? Thorax, why didn’t you do that earlier?” Starlight stammered.
“I can’t do that,” Thorax snorted.
“You’ve turned into me before,” Spike noted, slightly offended.
“Yeah, but you’re still a little dragon. A big one like that would take every ounce of energy I’ve got and more.”
“Normally, a trick like that is suicidal. Even for me.” Chrysalis crinkled her muzzle, trying to hide the slight blue tint of her cheeks. “But we’re stuck in my head. Once I could think straight again, I could do pretty much anything I wanted.”
“Power limited only by imagination. Are we sure we want to leave this place?” Thorax asked, hopefully sarcastically.
“Don’t you start with that,” Twilight chided. “I already had to give up my perfect world, so don’t you go getting any bright ideas.”
“Besides,” Chrysalis glanced around, agitated. “I would prefer not to spend any more time here than absolutely necessary.”
“Right. Let’s head back to the castle, then,” Twilight commanded.
The group, now whole again, filed back out the throne room. The miasmic portal still swirled in the mouth of the cave.
“Would have saved me a lot of trouble had that been here earlier,” Chrysalis whined.
“Was it really that obvious to you that this was a dream?” Twilight questioned, frowning.
“Well, last time I saw this place, it was a smoking ruin. So yes, that made the decision a little easier. Besides, you grow numb to your nightmares after you see them a few times. Of course, they were never this . . . capable before.”
They piled into the portal, crossing back through that dark swirling void before stepping out into the corrupted hallway of Canterlot Castle.
“So, where to from here?” Chrysalis glanced up and down the length of the hallway.
“My best guess? Celestia’s room. That’s where this all started, right?” Starlight offered.
“That’s as good a place as any to start,” Twilight agreed.
The party aligned themselves before Celestia’s door. Unease radiated from the other side. Starlight checked to make sure Spike was secure before nodding to Twilight. Thorax leaned close to his mother, granting her an uneasy but loving grin.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Chrysalis questioned. “I don’t think the sun is coming up any time soon.”
“Let’s do this.”
In unison, they stepped forward. As Twilight and Chrysalis reached for the handles, no portal appeared to whisk them away. Instead, the silver levers turned. The doors creaked open, revealing a perfect mirage of the bedroom.
They filed inside. Celestia lay motionless, draped in the fine linens of her bed’s curtains. Glowing embers in the fireplace offered the slightest respite from the cold night. The clock ticked away on the wall.
Luna waited inside, staring out at the starry night. Twilight wondered if she imagined the image of a mare’s proud face adorning the cratered surface of the full moon.
“Luna?” Twilight stepped forward from their formation.
The dark princess kept her back to them, speaking in soft whispers.
“Twilight? What are you doing here so late?”
“Do you know what’s happening, Luna?”
“I do.”
“This nightmare. Is this your responsibility?”
“It is.”
“Can you take us home?”
“I’m afraid not, Twilight.”
“Why not?”
Twilight took another step forward. Her companions followed, keeping Twilight well within their reach.
“None of us can leave, Twilight. She has seen to that.”
“You speak of that creature?” Chrysalis scoffed, joining Twilight.
“The Nightmare.”
She spoke its name fondly, as one might the name of a long-lost lover.
“Why would you do this, Luna?” Twilight demanded.
“She told me to.”
“And you obeyed?”
“Of course. I would never imagine otherwise.”
“Look at me, Luna,” Twilight ordered.
The mare observed the world outside the glass. At the edge of the horizon, a star faded.
“She told you to look,” Chrysalis repeated.
The coals in the hearth froze.
“I don’t think that’s Luna,” Starlight interjected, stepping back from the shadows that nibbled at her hooves.
“Quite astute of you, Starlight. As I expected from such a promising student,” the thing wearing Luna’s visage said. Luna’s maternal voice still rang out as she spoke, though it now echoed with a hellish rasp.
“Twilight,” Thorax cried. We’ve got a problem.”
Twilight and Chrysalis turned toward their allies. The shadows were consuming them, dragging them down into the abyss. Spike tried to leap from his perch, only to be snagged from the air by a dexterous tendril.
“I did not call to you,” the Nightmare roared. “Do not slander my domain with your presence any longer.”
Twilight snatched Starlight’s hoof.
Spike clutched desperately at Starlight. He held on until his claws drew blood. As the red seeped into his talons, he frowned, releasing his grip and allowing himself to be taken.
“Make sure you come back in one piece, Twilight. I still have a lot to learn.” Starlight chuckled as her hoof finally slipped from the princess’ grasp. Their two forms melted away into the dark.
Chrysalis still held Thorax. The changeling king had been seized by his hind legs. He kept his forelegs wrapped around his mother. The force pulling at him was great enough to drag Chrysalis along with it, leaving marks in the ground where her hooves dug desperately for purchase.
“Looks like you two are on your own,” Thorax said.
“Don’t let go,” Chrysalis begged.
“It’s alright. Go do what you have to. We’ll be waiting for you, alright?”
As his hold loosened, Thorax’s body started to pulse with green energy. It pulled away from him like mist, coalescing into an orb that floated nearby.
“What are you doing?” Chrysalis asked.
“Giving you everything I’ve got,” Thorax explained.
As the ball of energy swelled, the changeling king paled.
“Give her hell, Mom.”
With his strength sapped, Thorax slipped free, allowing the dark to swallow him.
“I will come back to you, I swear,” Chrysalis promised.
As she returned her focus to the Nightmare, Chrysalis claimed the energy that Thorax had left behind, drawing it in with a deep breath.
Though the shadows had already claimed their friends, it did not slow its assault. Before long, everything faded into the dark. Celestia. The furniture. The stars themselves. All was claimed by the encroaching abyss.
In its pursuit, the writhing dark claimed its master, too. Tendrils bound Luna, hardening into chains as they pulled her to the floor. The resulting cry of pain bore no demonic backing.
“Luna?” Twilight tried again.
“I’m sorry, Twilight. I was too weak to stop it,” Luna cried. She struggled against her bindings, but they held firm.
Beneath the light of the moon, Luna’s shadow stretched across the stone floor. With a deliberate slowness, it peeled from its dimensions, standing in a mocking recreation of Luna, wings flared and head held high.
“Welcome to my domain,” the Nightmare welcomed.
“Let Luna go,” Twilight commanded.
The Nightmare strolled pridefully around the room, circling her captives.
“Twilight Sparkle. Princess of Magic and Friendship. Chrysalis. A Royal changeling stripped of her crown. I must admit, your audacity is awe-inspiring.”
“What do you want from us?” Chrysalis snarled.
“I want nothing from you. I am simply fulfilling my duty.”
“What duty? You’re a monster,” Twilight barked.
“Perhaps I am. Such titles mean nothing here.”
“We’re taking Luna back with us,”
“You will try.”
“If it’s a fight you’re looking for . . .” Chrysalis growled.
“We’re happy to oblige,” Twilight finished.
The two readied their magic, stepping back to back.
“Very well. I will take great pains to ensure your dreams are more . . . captivating . . . this time around.”
The Nightmare spread her wings. The tower exploded, showering stone for miles across the abandoned countryside. The rest of the castle crumbled, leaving only the raised stone platform jutting from the ground like an unkept tombstone. The creature rose into the air, framing herself against the silver moon.
Twilight gasped.
Chrysalis growled.
Even the Nightmare, lost in the euphoria of its awakening power, turned over its shoulder.
Together, they watched the shadows creep across the moon, removing it from the sky. One by one, the stars vanished.
“Welcome to oblivion,” the Nightmare whispered.
“Twilight.”
The princess turned at the sound of her name.
Chrysalis stood by her side, a pained smile on her lips.
“Yeah?”
The changeling returned her attention to the Nightmare.
“I’m afraid I won’t be much use in this fight.”
“What do you mean?”
“Thorax gave me what little magic he had left. Hopefully, it’ll last me for a while, but once it’s gone . . .”
“I understand.”
Chrysalis sighed.
“I don’t like our odds.”
Twilight put a hoof on her shoulder.
“I’ve seen worse.”
“Whatever happens here, just know that I’ve enjoyed our time together, Twilight.”
“I did too, Chrysalis.”
The Nightmare unleashed a devilish whinny. Lightning forked across the sky. Twilight felt the rain start to fall. She took a deep breath.
Twilight and Chrysalis broke formation, sprinting in opposite directions as the Nightmare unleashed a beam of energy from her horn. It crashed against the stone where they had been standing only moments before. Like its intended targets, the beam split in two, leaving scorching trails across the masonry as it pursued its victims.
Chrysalis leapt from the edge of the tower, her wings buzzing noisily as she weaved through the sky.
Twilight followed in kind, ignoring the stiffness in her wing as she twirled through the air.
They curled around the Nightmare, forcing her spell to fail as they dodged past her. Twilight countered with a blast of her own. The Nightmare shifted to the right, dodging the bolt and allowing it to careen toward the horizon.
Chrysalis launched a more physical assault, racing high into the air only to dive toward her target. With the aid of gravity, she charged the Nightmare, shoulder pressed forward to bear the brunt of the trauma. Instead, she passed harmlessly through the creature.
“That’s not fair,” Chrysalis whined, pulling up hard to break her fall.
“You alright?” Twilight called from high above.
“I can’t hit her.”
“You two clearly do not understand how outmatched you are,” the Nightmare spoke. The flat tone of her voice made it clear she didn’t intend it as an idle taunt.
Twilight fired another weak missile. Again, the Nightmare swept out of its way.
“It’s dodging my magic,” Twilight noted.
Chrysalis nodded.
Twilight unleashed a barrage of magic missiles, raining them down on the landscape like the storm clouds swirling above her. She could feel the steam rising from the red-hot horn.
The Nightmare danced between Twilight’s shots. Its movements were erratic and unnatural. No living thing should be able to move as precisely as she did. The few lucky hits that connected bounced harmlessly off a mystical ward.
The beast countered with a blast of its own. A panicked Twilight rocketed off with a hefty flap of her wings, boasting a speed that would make Rainbow Dash proud. The Nightmare kept its focus on the alicorn, the ray of magic creeping closer to Twilight with each passing moment.
Then the world spun wildly out of control. Wreathed in her green aura, Chrysalis collided with the Nightmare, knocking the winged beast from the sky and sending her crashing into the stone tower, leaving a crater in her midst.
“Now, Twilight!” Chrysalis screamed.
Twilight’s direction shifted, bringing her back toward the pillar. With a harsh battle cry, she unleashed a stream of magic centered on the Nightmare. The purple beam tore through the structure, punching a hole clean out the side. When the spell finally faded, a deep hole had been drilled into the earth below the tower.
Twilight landed hard on her hooves, kicking up dust from the broken stone.
Together, they studied the aftermath of the attack.
“Impressive,” the Nightmare sang. Its ethereal voice rang out from every direction simultaneously. Above them, hidden against the shadow of the moon, the villain gathered, its form like smoke.
“Did I miss?” Twilight questioned.
“I don’t think so,” Chrysalis moaned.
“A strike worthy of the Element of Magic. Yet, you still do not seem to understand.”
The Nightmare reformed completely; her body pristine.
“I do not speak in idle threats, Princess. This is my domain. I am the master here. No matter how hard you struggle, you will never stop me.”
“I don’t think she’s bluffing, Twilight. A blast like that should’ve vaporized her,” Chrysalis mused.
“It did vaporize her.” Twilight reeled with sudden realization. “It tore her apart. She just got back up.”
“Are you finally starting to realize how hopeless this is?”
The Nightmare raised her head high, presenting her horn to the heavens. Lightning struck with wild abandon. Several bolts struck the airborne monster in rapid succession. Her body seemed to absorb the lightning, corrupting it as it arced through.
The lightning faded to black. Rather than emit light, it seemed to smother it.
The power converged at the apex of the Nightmare’s forehead. A black hole drank in the light and matter around it. With each pulse of black lightning, the ball grew both in power and size.
“Plan B?” Chrysalis asked, turning to Twilight.
“No . . .” Twilight stammered.
“The Nightmare speaks the truth. You cannot defeat it.”
The duo glanced down at the captured Luna. In their haste to meet their enemy in battle, they nearly forgot her. She watched them both with hopeless eyes.
Chrysalis stared up at the Nightmare, eyes locked on the building mass of void.
“I have a stupid idea, Twilight, but you’re going to have to trust me.”
“Let me hear it.”
“Destroy her. Completely and utterly.”
“I tried that. It didn’t work.”
“Then keep trying. Keep killing her until she stops coming back.”
“You say that like you know she’ll stop at some point.”
“I don’t. Like I said, you’re just going to have to trust me.”
“I think we have more pressing matters, at the moment,” Twilight explained, pointing a hoof toward the sky.
The Nightmare had finished charging. A dark orb, about the size and shape of a coin shimmered at the end of her horn.
“Do not fear. When this is over, I will ensure that you do not awaken from your dreams again. Embrace the night!”
The Nightmare lashed forward, sending the black bead soaring through the air.
Chrysalis stepped between Twilight and the impending attack.
“Whatever happens, you have to stay behind me, Twilight.”
“What?”
“Do you trust me?”
Twilight watched the bead strike against the remains of the tower, only feet from where they stood. Part of her wanted to flee. To take flight and run as far as she could. She didn’t understand why her body stayed rooted in place.
“Do you trust me?” Chrysalis repeated, louder this time.
“I trust you.”
Everything fell silent.
Twilight felt the air around her ignite. Her skin burned.
Chrysalis took a deep breath, glancing over her shoulder. Her lips curled into a thin smirk. With a stomp of her hoof, a green shield shimmered to life before her in the shape of several intertwined hexagons.
The world vanished in a flash of blinding light.
Chrysalis’ barrier warped beneath the force of the blast. Smaller segments of the intertwined honeycombs fell away, shattering like glass as they struck the floor. She raised her hoof toward the ward, willing it to hold.
Slowly but surely, the force overwhelmed her. Her grounded hooves dug into the stone, carving thin trenches where she slid. With a pained howl, she braced her raised leg with her forehead. The pushback slowed to a crawl, but it did not stop.
“Let me help,” Twilight begged, summoning her magic.
“Don’t waste a single drop of your magic, Twilight. You’ll need it.”
“Chrysalis?”
“You said you trusted me, Twilight. Don’t you start lying to me now,” she screamed over the rush of the explosion.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Twilight.”
Chitin plates across Chrysalis’ body lost their luster, turning a dull shade of grey. Several chunks dropped away, crumbling to dust as they collided with the ground. Small streams of bluish blood dribbled from the wounds opening on her exposed skin.
The shield failed.
Twilight braced, but Chrysalis draped herself over the alicorn, taking the full brunt of the attack head-on.
Even through her protector, Twilight could feel the energy tear at her. The very flames of the sun licked at her, causing her skin to sizzle.
And then it stopped.
Everything returned to normal.
The Nightmare still hung in the air, her wings flapping soundlessly.
Twilight still stood atop the tower, a little grateful that the shock numbed her body.
Chrysalis stood on her hind legs. She wavered back and forth, her breathing sporadic. Muffled through her damaged ears, Twilight heard the changeling’s cries turn to laughter.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Chrysalis sputtered. Her chuckling faded as she tilted backward, her limp form collapsing.
Twilight willed herself to rush forward. To catch her. But her legs couldn’t move. Something in her head had stopped functioning. It sat in her mind like a splinter, agonizing her.
Before Chrysalis could slam against the stone, a black aura of magic wrapped around her, setting her gently against the floor.
“At every turn, I have underestimated you, Changeling Queen. Perhaps you truly are worthy of the title. Do not fret. When you wake, I will give you a dream worthy of your sacrifice.” The Nightmare glided down to the tower.
“How . . .” Twilight muttered, letting her mouth hang open.
“I told you, Twilight. I am the master of this domain.”
The Nightmare approached Twilight, lowering her head to meet the princess’. As she stepped over Chrysalis, she seemed genuinely somber.
“Has this pointless struggle gone on long enough yet? I offer paradise. Submit and accept your fate.”
“Submit? All I’ve ever done is submit.”
The Nightmare tilted her head, watching Twilight intently.
“I let Celestia go off on her own, and now she’s dying. I let Luna take control, and now I’m trapped in this nightmare. All my life, I’ve been letting others tell me what to do.”
“So, you seek control?”
Twilight wasn’t listening. She lost herself in her increasingly hostile rant.
“I let Cadence and Shining take Chrysalis from me. And now I’ve let Chrysalis sacrifice herself to save me. What’s wrong with me? Why does this keep happening?”
“I can take the pain away.”
“No, you can’t,” Twilight groaned as she willed herself to stand. “All you’ve offered to do is take what little choice I have left. I’m done taking orders.”
Twilight’s fur bristled as her body shook.
“Then you will continue this pointless battle? If that is what you desire, then so be it.”
“I’m sick and tired of holding back,” Twilight screamed.
The Nightmare stood over Twilight, readying another spell.
“And most of all, I’m done playing nice.”
The princess glared up at the Nightmare, hatred flashing in her eyes.
To her own surprise, the Nightmare recoiled.
“I’m giving you one chance,” Twilight growled. “Get out of my way, or I will kill you.”
Driven by fear, the Nightmare allowed her spell to fizzle out. She took an awkward step back, nearly stumbling over Chrysalis.
Twilight’s mane ignited with purple flame. Her pain faded. She stomped forward, the stone beneath her hooves cracking with each press.
“What are you doing?” The Nightmare took another step back.
“What you’ve wanted me to do all along. I’m done letting others decide for me. I’m going to do what I want. I’m fulfilling my desires.”
Her feathers blackened like a burning parchment, but they remained unharmed. As her mane flared up, a new strain of magic spilled from her horn. The blue light swirled around her head. Her eyes glowed with the same mystical fury.
“And what is it that you want?” The Nightmare asked.
“I want you to listen. I want you to tell me what you hear.”
The Nightmare’s ears perked up. She heard it. Somewhere in the depths of the abyss, a clock rang out with twelve methodical chimes.
“I want you to tell me what you hear,” Twilight repeated. She stalked forward, cornering the Nightmare on the crumbling edge of the tower.
“A clock,” the Nightmare stuttered.
“That’s right. Do you know what that means? It means your night is over.”
Twilight wiped the taste of iron from her lips as they twisted into a crazed grin. She licked her tongue over her new fangs.
When Twilight opened her eyes, she found herself standing in the center of Ponyville. Market stalls lined the square, each surrounded by stallions and mares from every color of the rainbow. She recognized the familiar faces of old friends scattered throughout the crowd, each greeting her with a warm recognition.
“Afternoon. Finishing up your errands for today?”
Twilight turned to find Chrysalis standing at her side.
“Shopping?”
“Yeah. Why else would you be standing in the market? Hey, did you do something different with your mane?”
Twilight scoffed. She summoned her magic. Blue lightning crackled down across her glossy black wings. The earth beneath her hooves trembled, sending stones rising slowly into the air.
“Twilight, what are you doing?” Chrysalis asked, stepping back.
“Did you really think I’d fall for this again?” Twilight called to the heavens.
“Twilight, wait!” Chrysalis reached for the princess.
And then Twilight’s home was gone, obliterated in an instant blue flash.
The Nightmare screeched as the magic coursed through her body, sending her spiraling down into the partially demolished pillar.
“You really thought that would work?” Twilight taunted as she glided down after.
Rubble shifted. The Nightmare rose from the debris, her gaseous form reconstituting opposite the corrupted princess.
“You’re going to have to try a little harder than that.”
Twilight reared onto her hind legs, arching her back as the pulses of magic flooded through her. She unleashed a flood of energy in a wide arc, sending a faint blue glow radiating across the bleak dreamscape sky.
This time, the Nightmare didn’t bother to try and block the spell. Her body evaporated as raw magic tore past. Loose stone shook from the tower, raining to the earth below as the world trembled beneath Twilight’s strength.
For a moment, Twilight lost sight of her opponent.
“Your power has grown, Princess.”
Snarling, Twilight whipped around toward the voice. Wounds in reality tore open around her, trapped within shimmering runes. As she pointed her horn forward, countless bolts of energy rained from the fissures, peppering the Nightmare and reducing her to ash again.
“But even this power means nothing here.”
The Nightmare reformed in the air, her stance regal. Twilight grit her teeth. Runes etched into the floor as Twilight readied another spell. Arcane symbols carved themselves into the stone pillar, radiating magic. From the center of her magic circle, Twilight swished her head to the side, her horn aglow.
The runes on the tower echoed in response, unleashing columns of blue fire. Each pillar converged on the Nightmare, colliding to form a swirling mass of power. A blinding flash resulted. Even Twilight could feel the heat of her own magic wash over her.
“I am master of this domain. You cannot touch me here.”
Twilight drew a deep breath. The Nightmare appeared, draped in the shadow of the moon, her dark form glittering.
“I think you misunderstand me,” Twilight interrupted.
The Nightmare raised an eyebrow.
“I’m really enjoying myself here.”
The dream beast’s glare narrowed.
“I suppose I should be thanking you, actually. In a way, you really did free me.”
“What do you mean?” The Nightmare questioned.
“Do you know the last time anyone asked me what I wanted?” Twilight chuckled. “You made a very good point. You can finally offer me what I’ve really sought for so long.”
“And what is that?”
Twilight spread her wings, putting them on display for the villain to admire.
“Freedom. I spend all day playing nice, trying to be friendly. Being the perfect princess. You don’t know how nice it feels to finally let go of all that. To really let loose. Don’t you get it? That’s what all this is. Exactly what you asked for.
“I’m showing you what I want.”
“I will be sure to remember that, for your next dream,” the Nightmare noted, her horn gathering energy for another attack. A small black bead formed above her.
Sensing the build-up of magical energy sent a tremor through the princess. A sense of giddiness welled up in her chest. She powered up her own magic in turn.
The Nightmare spell crested. “I wield the power of a goddess, Twilight. Resisting me is foolish. I offer you one final chance to—”
Twilight fired her spell, sending a beam of concentrated magic directly for the hovering demon. The Nightmare reacted, launching her own spell.
The black bead melted into the blue flame, unleashing its power from the inside. Blue and black spilled across the sky, rippling past the horizon as both alicorns poured their souls into their attack.
“The power of a goddess?” Twilight called over the din of the impending apocalypse. “Don’t make me laugh. I’ll show you magic.”
Their spells clashed. Lightning radiated from the resulting struggle, carving deep gouges into the earth as it tore across the landscape. The clouds above roiled, swirling like a vortex. Their magic howled, growing louder until they swallowed any other noise. Eventually, the ear-piercing howl gave way to silence, leaving only a show of lights to bless their battle.
Twilight’s focus faltered as one of the accidental spears of energy seared her fur.
The Nightmare pressed her advantage, driving the clash of power toward Twilight. And then she stopped. An itch in the back of her mind caught her attention, drawing far more fear than the angry princess could ever manage.
She glanced downward toward the tower, where Luna still lay bound by chains. Chrysalis stood nearby, one of the chains locked between her teeth. The changeling clamped her jaw shut; her fangs wreathed in green flame.
The Nightmare tried to break away, but the lapse in concentration allowed Twilight the upper hand, driving the orb of energy back into the sky.
Even from her high vantage, she could see Chrysalis smile as she gathered her strength for one final try. With a growl of exertion and a trickle of blood, the chain snapped.
Luna’s world slid into focus as she snapped back from whatever cell had trapped her mind. The umbral princess glanced upward to see Chrysalis standing over her, a broken chain hanging from the corner of her mouth.
“Chrysalis?” Her dry throat resulted in a raspy cry.
The changeling made a halting motion with her hoof as she tossed the chain aside. She wrinkled her muzzle in disgust before spitting out the chipped end of a fang.
“How much do you remember?” Chrysalis asked, her voice all business.
“Everything,” Luna grumbled, slipping free from the rest of her bonds. Her energy had been sapped to the point where the simple act of standing took immense effort. Together, the two of them looked up into the sky, where two dark figures struggled for dominance.
Twilight felt her opponent’s power wane for only a moment. She seized the opportunity, pressing her magic until her horn cracked under the pressure. The black bead evaporated, allowing the blue flames to rampage forth, unimpeded. The Nightmare had only a moment to raise her shield before the spell connected.
Though she managed to block a significant amount of damage, the energy necessary to sustain the shield left the Nightmare exhausted. It reached out for Luna’s power, but their connection had been severed. With no other choice, she flared her wings, rocketing toward the horizon.
Any hope of escape wilted as Twilight wrapped her magic around the creature, immobilizing her.
“Not so tough now, are you?” The alicorn smirked.
Twilight lifted her hostage slightly before launching her down into the tower. She smashed through each floor, the tower collapsing inward under the abuse.
Chrysalis hauled Luna up from the crumbling platform. Straining under the weight of a full-grown alicorn, she had to boost her strength with the remaining whimpers of her magic. She set the princess gently in the grass of a nearby field. They stood back from the edge of the crater made by such an attack.
Twilight appeared from a vortex of dark energy. She strutted forward confidently.
A figure emerged from the smoking devastation. The Nightmare’s crown had been knocked askew. Portions of her mane had turned to ash. Her wings were held aloft in the grip of blue magic, letting the rest of her body hang limp in the air.
“Twilight?” Luna slurred.
“Kind of looks like her, doesn’t it?” Chrysalis mused.
Twilight ignored her two observers, her focus held steadily on her new toy.
“That was it?” she pouted. “I wasn’t finished playing yet.”
“What are you?” the Nightmare stammered.
“That’s an odd question. I’m exactly what you wanted.” Twilight rose to her full height, her darker profile awash with an air of divinity. “You wanted to know Twilight’s deepest desires? Her dreams? I’m right here. I’m everything she ever wanted. I’m every sinister thought or dark temptation that she keeps locked up tight.”
“Twilight?” Luna asked, a little more sober this time.
Twilight glared over her shoulder.
“What is it, Luna? Can’t you see that I’m busy?”
“We need to go. I can open a passage home for us.”
“Hold on. I want to have a little more fun.”
Her spell tightened its grip. An ethereal shriek tore from the Nightmare’s throat as the tips of her wings pulled farther apart.
“Twilight, that’s enough,” Luna commanded, though her voice lacked the necessary energy to project authority.
“Why should I care what you say? Did you forget whose fault it is we’re in this mess?” Twilight scowled.
“Believe me, I have not forgotten,” Luna admitted glumly. “But we need to go. The Nightmare’s power has failed. I’m barely holding this dimension together as it is.”
“Fine,” Twilight groaned. “Just let me do one last thing.”
With a sickening smile, Twilight’s horn erupted with magic. The Nightmare offered one final shriek as Twilight plucked the wings from the bothersome little fly.
Ink poured across the field like rain.
“Satisfied?” Chrysalis raised an eyebrow.
“Hardly.” Twilight sauntered up to the changeling, close enough that she had to look up to meet her eyes.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“She thinks about you a lot.”
“Who does?”
“Twilight.”
“Aren’t you Twilight?”
“Kind of. There are so many things she wants to show you. So many things she wants to ask you. But she’s a coward. She doesn’t deserve you.”
“I think that’s my decision to make,” Chrysalis admonished.
“She’s scared that you’ll never really love her. I mean, how could you love a monster like me?” Twilight licked a splash of blood from her cheek.
“I don’t know.” Chrysalis tapped her chin with her free hoof. She shifted Luna’s weight, making sure she didn’t drop the princess. “She does look cute in black.”
“I’ll remember that,” Twilight noted with a sly grin. She closed her eyes, allowing the magic coursing through her to fall dormant. The blue flames extinguished. Her burning mane fell flat. Her black feathers molted, revealing purple underneath.
“Chrysalis?” Twilight muttered.
“You back?” Chrysalis tilted her head.
“Catch me.” Twilight collapsed forward. The changeling reached out with her free leg, snagging Twilight. Her muscles twitched reflexively, unable to follow even the easiest commands.
“A little more warning next time?”
“About catching me, or about the evil magic-spewing breakdown?” Twilight asked, blushing.
“Both, preferably.”
“I hate to break this up, but we really need to leave,” Luna interrupted. The umbral princess raised her head, forcing open one of the black portals that connected the Nightmare dimension.
“I can only keep it open from this side. Release Twilight, then come back and get me. Quickly. I cannot keep this up for long.”
“Right.” Chrysalis lowered Luna into the grass. She hoisted Twilight onto her shoulders. Instinctively, Twilight wrapped her forelegs tight around the changeling’s neck.
“We’re making a habit out of this,” Twilight mused.
“At least my leg works this time.” Chrysalis shook her head.
She carried the immobile Princess to the edge of the void. Kneeling, she let the alicorn slide off her back.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” Twilight looked away.
“I have to get Luna. Wait for me on the other side, and I’ll be more than happy to have that chat.”
Twilight wanted to argue but decided against it. With another confident nod from Chrysalis, the princess turned and left through the portal.
“Your turn, Luna,” Chrysalis called, trudging back to the dark horse.
Around them, the horizons of the world crumbled away into nothing.
“Leave me.”
“Why would I do that?” Chrysalis wondered aloud.
“Twilight was right. All of this was my fault.”
“So, you nearly killed a bunch of ponies. Big whoop. You’re not the first. Probably won’t be the last, either.” Chrysalis shrugged.
“I am not laughing, Chrysalis.”
“Neither am I.”
“This is not the first time I have allowed my weakness to threaten Equestria. First with Nightmare Moon. Then the Tantabus.”
Chrysalis tried to wrench the princess off the ground, but without Luna’s cooperation, she couldn’t manage to budge her.
“I think it would be safer if I stayed here.”
“That’s a dumber plan than Celestia’s,” Chrysalis grunted as she pulled Luna’s hoof. She stopped when she noticed Luna’s tears.
“I’ve hurt too many innocents. I’m dangerous. I’m –”
“A monster?” Chrysalis suggested.
“A monster . . .” Luna agreed.
“Well, join the club.” Chrysalis flashed green, using her magical strength to help lift Luna.
“I told you to leave me,” Luna ordered. She tried to fight back, but her limbs were numb.
“And I haven’t listened to a thing you said since I woke up in that hospital. Why would I start now?”
“Chrysalis, please. I can’t take it. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”
“Oh, cry me a river, Princess. You want to stay trapped in an endless nightmare because you’re upset? I thought the princesses of Equestria were supposed to be goddesses. Beacons of hope and caretakers of their subjects.”
“A job I have failed at, time and time again.”
The edges of the field started to fall away. Chrysalis had barely managed to close the distance to her destination. She chewed her lip.
“Then figure it out. You don’t like how things worked out? Do better.”
“And what happens if I lose myself again? If no one around can stop me? Twilight told me of a world where Nightmare Moon ruled Equestria. I have seen it in her dreams. I would rather die than let such a horrible reality come to pass.”
“Thorax had a dream once, too. Of the whole hive of changelings learning to live in harmony with the rest of the world, while I was left behind to rot in the hell I made for myself. I would rather have died than allow such a world. Well, guess what? Your sister had something to say about that. And now here I am, risking my life to haul your sorry butt out of my nightmares because of her.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I, Luna. But let me tell you something. Life sucks sometimes. It really does. But you can’t just lay down and die. You think you’re some world-ending threat to those around you? Then why did Celestia spare you? Why did Twilight offer you friendship? Why am I helping you?
“You’ve got friends and family counting on you. And if you give up now, then you’re letting all of them down. You said you wouldn’t be the princess to let Equestria fall. What happened to that fire? That energy? So maybe it’s tough. Maybe you’ll fall again. But I promise you that when you do, me, Twilight, Celestia will get together and beat you into submission again and again. No matter how many tries it takes until you get it right.”
“Chrysalis?” Luna whispered.
“Shut up,” Chrysalis snapped back.
“Thank you. I think I finally understand what Twilight sees in you.”
“Great for you. Unfortunately, I’m not sure it’s really going to matter in a minute.”
Luna glanced around. Oblivion raced towards them. Chrysalis’ gait had slowed to a limp as her magic reached its limit. Her chitin had already greyed.
“I can’t . . . I can’t hold . . .” Luna trembled as she forced the last bit of her magic into this realm. With all her energy spent, the princess closed her eyes, draping herself over Chrysalis.
“Did she just fall asleep?” Chrysalis muttered. “How did I lose to such weaklings?”
The world fell away before them, the earth descending endlessly into the abyss. With a resolute breath, Chrysalis bent her knees. Shaking, she leapt forward, a cry of pain and pride tearing through her throat as she parted with the collapsing world.
The portal inched closer.
But not close enough.
Chrysalis’ eyes widened as the realization hit her. She called for her magic, but the agony sent ripping through her body broke her concentration.
And then something else hit her. The warm grasp of golden magic.
Chrysalis glanced around, searching for the source. She only found a handful of pristine white feathers, fluttering past her face.
“Thank you, Chrysalis. I knew I made the right decision.”
She recognized that voice.
The dreamscape vanished as Chrysalis landed hard against the stone floor of Celestia’s bedroom. She flopped gracelessly to her side, sending Luna’s body skittering across the floor. Hopefully, she wasn’t conscious enough to feel it.
Chrysalis released a long, drawn out exhale. A cold tingling had set in across most of her body, leaving her helpless on the floor, staring up at an artist’s inaccurate depiction of the sun. The ugly painting slipped out of sight as Twilight leaned over her.
“Did I make it?”
“We both did.” Twilight smiled.
“Great. I can’t feel my anything. I am in desperate need of love. Would you mind fetching Thorax—”
Chrysalis never remembered to finish her statement. In truth, she forgot a great many things as a soft set of lips met her own. Twilight positioned herself over Chrysalis, pressing their bodies together against the cold stone floor.
Behind her shock, Chrysalis could feel the love radiating from the alicorn locked with her. She drew deeply, savoring every drop that crossed her tongue.
Twilight squealed as Chrysalis lifted her off the floor, twirling their bodies around until she knelt over the princess. She pinned the royal wings to the ground, panting as the two of them finally pulled away.
“How was that?” Twilight asked.
Chrysalis leaned in close, watching Twilight’s fur bristle at the touch of her warm breath. Her mane hung low, shrouding her face in shadows. She pressed a hoof to Twilight’s cheek in a not-so-gentle caress.
“Little Princess, I hope you understand what you’ve just done.”
The two of them pushed together, ready for another kiss when the sound of a clearing throat made them blush in unison.
Shining Armor and Princess Cadence were standing in the doorway. They looked thin and exhausted, prisoners of too many sleepless nights. They wobbled back and forth as they shared a nervous, if joyful, look.
Beside them, Thorax, Starlight, and Spike were waiting. The trio still bore the scars of their dream encounters, but more distracting was the thrill of victory in their eyes.
Two columns of armored ponies stood behind them, sniffing and scratching nervously as they searched for anything else that could hold their attention.
Among the gathered spectators, a familiar group watched the celebration. Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Rarity were lined up in the hallway, their jaws hanging slack. Applejack was the first to find her voice, though she still wore her obvious surprise.
“Fluttershy, I think you forgot to mention something.”
“You two.” Shining Armor pointed to the two guards standing nearby. They snapped to attention. “Retrieve Doctor Heart’s team from the throne room. Tell them that I want a report on Luna and Celestia’s conditions before sunset.”
“Yes, Sir.” The two guards sprinted off down the hall.
“The rest of you, report to your squad leaders. I want a thorough sweep of the castle. If even a single shred of that magic remains, I want to know.”
The rest of the armored ponies scattered.
As the clanking of armor ceased, the remainder of the gathering turned toward Chrysalis and Twilight, still tangled on the floor.
“Hi,” Twilight squeaked.
Still trapped beneath the weight of the changeling, she squirmed to free herself. With what little room she had, she fidgeted until she rolled onto her stomach. She could feel the temperature of her cheeks climb beneath the heated stares of their audience.
“Chrysalis?” Shining Armor stepped forward over the threshold, positioning himself at the perfect angle to block Twilight’s view of the crowd.
“Hmm?” Chrysalis whined.
“Would you mind . . . getting off my sister?”
Coughing nervously, Chrysalis released Twilight. The alicorn scrambled to rise.
“Welcome back.” Cadence appeared at Shining’s side, hiding an embarrassed smile behind her wing. Her mane appeared noticeably un-perfect.
“It’s . . . great to be back?” Twilight’s wings clung to her sides, trembling slightly.
“So, even with Fluttershy’s story and Cadence’s letter, I can’t help but feel like we’re missing some information here,” Applejack worried.
“In due time, Applejack. I’m sure our two new arrivals could use a moment to catch their breath. We can talk later. Over tea.”
In the hallway, a new group of ponies arrived, dressed in scrubs and lab coats. Doctor Heart led the party. Without a word, the doctor and one of his nurses took up positions at Celestia’s bedside, reconnecting various machines to read her vitals. The rest of the medical team gathered around Luna, checking to decide whether they would be able to move her.
“Twilight, are you okay?” Reverting from a Captain back to a brother, Shining pulled his sister in close.
“I’m fine. I think.”
“And you, Chrysalis?”
“Shining Armor, do you care for my well-being? Perhaps I am still dreaming,” Chrysalis teased.
Shining frowned over Twilight’s shoulder.
“I’ll survive,” she commented flatly.
“Glad to hear it.” Cadence breathed a sigh of relief.
“I hate to say it, but I probably need to get back to work. If something is still in the castle, me and my men will have to find it.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Starlight mused.
“Maybe not. Still, better to be safe than sorry. If you need anything, Twilight, let one of the guards know. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“I know you will, Shining.”
With a steadfast nod, Shining donned his helmet. “Oh, and I’ll tell the servants to send up some refreshments.” He marched after his soldiers.
“Tell them to bring snacks, too! Hopefully something sweet!” Pinkie yelled.
“So, what’s the story behind this?” Rainbow Dash asked, tilting her head toward Chrysalis.
“I’ll tell you what,” Cadence began. “Why don’t we head somewhere more private where we can talk while we wait for our tea?”
“That would be lovely,” Twilight agreed.
“It’s not the worst idea,” Chrysalis noted.
Nodding in agreement, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Applejack retreated out into the hallway.
“We’ll escort Thorax back to his room,” Starlight lifted Spike onto her back.
“I’m fine. I don’t need an escort,” Thorax defended. His colors had yet to return completely, and his knees were shaking. Starlight tapped him on the shoulder, nearly sending him crashing over.
“Solid as a rock, Thorax,” Spike chuckled.
“Fine. I could use some help, I guess.”
Waving their goodbyes, Thorax, Starlight, and Spike headed off toward the lower levels.
The remainder of the group shuffled toward Cadence’s room. Inside, they settled around a small private dining table. The four chairs, all pushed to one side, were offered to Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie, and Fluttershy. Rainbow disappeared momentarily through the balcony door. She returned carting a cloud that she used to float lazily over the meeting.
Twilight and Cadence sat on the floor opposite the rest of the ponies. Chrysalis kept her distance, sprawling out on the cold stone on the far end of the room.
“Start at the beginning. I want to hear everything,” Rarity begged.
“So, Fluttershy has already told you what happened to Celestia?” Cadence asked, nodding toward the shy pony.
The rest of the girls nodded solemnly.
“Me and Chrysalis were working on a cure for it,” Twilight explained. “I was hoping to find some way to counter changeling magic. And, for a while, it seemed to work. There was this whole test with a teacup and a crystal. I really thought we had the problem solved.”
“So did we. What happened in Celestia’s room the night you delivered the cure?” Cadence asked.
“It didn’t work.”
“And Luna didn’t take kindly to that news,” Chrysalis muttered.
“Luna? I didn’t want to believe it, but I had considered it,” Cadence lamented.
“Luna was upset. She thought Chrysalis had sabotaged the cure somehow,” Twilight continued.
“Did she?” Rainbow asked, peeking over the edge of her cloud.
“Rainbow,” Rarity scolded.
“I did not,” Chrysalis spat.
Rainbow Dash shrugged and rolled onto her back, resting her head on her hooves.
“Luna . . . lost herself . . .” Twilight mourned.
“She turned back into Nightmare Moon?” Fluttershy asked, eyes going wide.
“Not quite. Whatever she did, it almost seemed to be separate from her. A different creature. A Nightmare,” Twilight tapped at her chin. “Closer to the Tantabus, if you remember that.”
“That weird dream goo thing?” Rainbow’s cloud tilted slightly as the mare shifted her weight.
“Yes. Me, Chrysalis, Celestia, and Luna were captured. It dragged us off into this weird dream dimension.”
“Is Luna still a threat?” Cadence inquired.
“I don’t think so. Chrysalis and I freed Luna from its control to escape.”
“That sounds dreadful,” Rarity groaned.
“I wouldn’t recommend trying it.”
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Cadence answered, allowing a small group of servants into the chamber.
“Captain Shining Armor told us to send up tea and snacks?” The servant explained, her words laced with a thin accent.
“Go ahead and set them on the table.” Cadence stepped aside and pointed to the table where the rest of the ponies were gathered.
The first servant carried a tray of tea. Three pots of the brew were left on the table, along with a cup and saucer for each pony present. Another servant, this one a taller stallion, carried a platter piled with biscuits. Several dishes of varying jams and jellies lined the center of the plate. The last servant carried two chairs in his magic, which were left at the empty edge of the table for the two princesses.
With a synchronized bow, the trio left.
“Where were we?” Cadence continued once drinks had been poured.
Chrysalis’ teacup sat beside Twilight’s, empty and unwanted.
“You were telling us about your dreams.” Pinkie split her focus evenly between their conversation and piling a rainbow of different jellies onto one of the biscuits.
Twilight studied her tea. “In my dream, I was trapped in Ponyville. All of my closest friends were there. Celestia was healed. We were preparing for the Gala.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Fluttershy admitted.
“It wasn’t. That was the problem. I doubt I would have been able to leave if Starlight, Thorax, and Spike hadn’t shown up. Everything was . . . perfect.”
“But it wasn’t real. Was it?” Applejack retrieved a flask of cider from her hat. Unscrewing the cap, she took a long sip.
A small speck floating in Twilight’s tea drew her attention from Applejack’s question.
“What about Chrysalis?” Pinkie inquired, spraying crumbs and drops of fruit preserve across the table. “What do changelings dream of?”
“Mine was more of a nightmare. Let’s leave it at that,” Chrysalis demanded.
“Once my friends rescued me from my dream, we saved Chrysalis from her nightmare. Then we confronted the Nightmare. I held off the monster long enough for Chrysalis to free Luna.”
“You had an awesome climactic battle without us?” Rainbow called from above, disappointed.
“Be glad you missed it. We barely made it out. If not for Chrysalis, neither me nor Luna would be alive right now.”
“Chrysalis saved you?” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “And the show back in Celestia’s room was her reward for saving the princess?”
“Kind of. Not really. I don’t know,” Twilight stammered.
“It sounds like you’ve had a long few days, Twilight.” Applejack sighed.
“What? Few days?” Twilight choked on her tea.
“Yeah. You were gone over a day.”
“Thirty-seven hours, to be exact,” Pinkie stated.
Twilight glanced out the window at the morning sunrise.
“If me and Luna were gone that long, then who raised the sun?”
“I took the liberty of gathering Celestia’s most trusted court magicians. It wasn’t easy, but we’ve kept things under control while you were gone.” Cadence sipped her tea humbly.
“That’s dangerous,” Twilight warned.
Cadence snickered. “I may not be the Element of Magic, but that doesn’t mean I’m a pushover.”
“So, can we circle back to you kissing Chrysalis? I feel like that kind of got glossed over,” Rainbow Dash requested.
Twilight cleared her throat. Cadence glanced nervously in her direction.
“Twilight? Is everything alright?” Applejack leaned forward.
“Yeah. Everything’s fine. It’s just . . .” she scratched at her mane. “You weren’t all supposed to see that. It’s a little embarrassing.”
“Maybe. That doesn’t explain why you kissed her though.” Rainbow rolled back onto her stomach, propping her head up with her hooves. She watched Twilight eagerly.
“I kissed her because . . . well, you know, I . . .”
Twilight turned desperately toward Chrysalis. The changeling was shrinking in the corner.
“Should I tell them?” Cadence offered.
Twilight nodded meekly.
“Princess Twilight and Chrysalis have become . . . closer . . . during their time working together.”
The four surprised ponies shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Rainbow nearly toppled from her cloud, her mouth agape. Twilight dodged their gazes by losing herself in the floral design of her teacup.
“Chrysalis?” Rainbow finally blurted out.
An angry growl drew the party’s attention as Chrysalis rose. She stomped past the table and out the door. Instinctively, Twilight hurried after her.
“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity huffed. She summoned her magic, dispersing the blue pegasus’ cloud and sending her crashing back to the stone floor.
“Hey, what was that for?” Rainbow demanded.
“Have you no sense of tact? Don’t you see you upset them?”
“It’s Queen Chrysalis? I can’t be the only one that finds that weird, right?”
All around the table, the ponies pondered the question.
“Regardless of that, you don’t just blurt out like that.”
“Would you want your partner called out like that?” Applejack locked eyes with Rainbow as she took a long drink from her flask.
“It’s alright,” Cadence interjected.
“It really isn’t, Princess.” Rarity crossed her arms.
“I mean that it is strange to think of Chrysalis and Twilight together. No pony knows that more than I do. Luna brought Me and Shining here to try and talk her out of it.”
“I don’t think you succeeded.” Pinkie reached for another biscuit.
“We didn’t. But Twilight did. Regardless of what you think personally, this is no changeling trick. And honestly, I’ve gotten . . . well, I won’t exactly use the phrase ‘used to it’ but I know this makes Twilight happy.”
“Then we should try our best to have her back,” Rarity commanded.
“Rarity’s right. Isn’t she, Rainbow?” Applejack glared at the rainbow-maned pegasus, who blushed a deep shade of red.
“I should probably apologize. I didn’t mean to sound like that . . .”
Fluttershy groaned, annoyed.
“I knew I shouldn’t have left Twilight at the station that day.”
Chrysalis stormed out into the hallway. The moment she lost sight of the others, she let her façade fall. Clenching her teeth, she stumbled, trying to catch her breath.
“Chrysalis?”
Twilight stepped out behind her, prepared to give chase. In her haste, she nearly tackled the changeling.
“Twilight?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Chrysalis continued toward her room.
“Then why are you limping?”
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you? I will be fine. I’m just a little tired right now.”
Chrysalis tried to press forward, but her legs buckled beneath her. Twilight rushed forward, catching her with a shoulder to lean on. The weight nearly crushed the little alicorn.
“You’re heavier than I thought you’d be,” Twilight muttered.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to say that?”
“Sorry. I was just . . . caught off guard by it is all.”
“Why are you even carrying me?”
Twilight gathered herself, helping the changeling limp onward.
“You carried me out of the portal. You carried me when I hurt my wing. It’s only right I return the favor.”
“I mean, why didn’t you just use your magic?”
Twilight turned away.
“Twilight, why didn’t you use your magic?”
Chrysalis stopped, forcing Twilight to stop with her.
“I might . . . not . . . have it?” Twilight grinned guiltily.
Chrysalis sucked a breath in through her teeth and pushed Twilight away. Though she was unsteady, she kept upright.
“What did you do?”
“Remember how I turned into that . . . other me?”
“I remember.”
“I think I might have pushed myself a little too far. I haven’t been able to use my magic since I turned back.”
The two of them piled into Chrysalis’ room. The changeling stumbled over to her bed, curling up beneath the sheets. Twilight sat at the edge.
“You don’t seem that concerned,” Chrysalis noted.
“It’s not the first time. Anytime I push my magic too hard I get like that. Well, I think. This is only the second time I’ve ever done it. Last time was when I was still in training. It came back in a day or two.”
“And you survived that long without magic?” Chrysalis asked incredulously.
“Hey, monsters and villains didn’t try to kill me until I was much older.”
“Villains like me?”
Twilight’s mood soured instantly. She turned toward Chrysalis. The changeling pulled the sheets up to her neck. Her body shivered beneath them.
“Villains like you? Does this have something to do with what Rainbow said? She says a lot of things. She doesn’t mean to be rude, she . . .” Twilight considered her next words carefully. “Her mouth moves faster than her mind.”
“You should go back to them.”
“Not until I’m sure you’re okay.”
Chrysalis dug her head deeper into the mound of pillows at the head of the bed. “I’ll probably need to go see Thorax. I could use a bit of a boost.”
“Was that kiss not enough for you? I could be persuaded to give you another, you know?” Twilight let herself fall onto the bed so she and Chrysalis were forced to face one another.
“No. It was enjoyable.”
“That hardly sounds like a glowing review. I’ve never kissed anyone before. We’ll have to practice more.”
“That was your first kiss? With me?”
“Yeah.” Twilight tilted her head. “Is something wrong with that?”
“Twilight, have you ever . . . been interested in another pony before?”
“Maybe?” Twilight glanced around the room.
Chrysalis giggled. The dark luster flooded back into her cheeks.
“I like hearing you laugh like that. It’s cute,” Twilight admitted.
“You shouldn’t have told me that. It’s only my evil laugh from now on.” On cue, she opened her mouth, unleashing a terrifying cackle.
“Still kind of cute.”
“You’re impossible, Twilight.”
Smiling, Chrysalis freed a hoof from her covers, running it through Twilight’s mane.
“You’re not the first one to tell me that. Doubt you’ll be the last, either.”
“Now, don’t you worry about me. A good night’s sleep and I’ll be right as rain. You run along back to your friends.”
“If you’re sure.”
Hesitantly, Twilight peeled herself from Chrysalis' side. As she opened the door to leave, the changeling called out to her.
“Twilight?”
“Yeah?”
“Come back tonight. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“I will.”
And with that, Twilight left, letting the door close behind her.
Chrysalis exhaled slowly. The perfume of Twilight’s affection hung in the air. It invoked memories of flowing fields, of crowded bakeries. She could feel her muscles burn as her lungs demanded her to breathe.
Beneath the harsh light of the mid-morning sun, Chrysalis studied the blank walls of her room. The same mostly barren shelves, the same ugly paintings. Despite the time she spent here, Chrysalis couldn’t shake the feeling gnawing at the back of her mind. Without Twilight by her side, this place still felt foreign.
That same assaulting unfamiliarity had only increased with each of Twilight’s loved ones that arrived. In her head, she pictured Twilight’s friends. More specifically, their shocked expressions at Twilight’s show of affection.
“How hard could it be for them to accept a Princess of Equestria to be close with a Changeling Queen. Or rather, a former Changeling Queen, I guess. Is that so hard to believe?” Chrysalis asked the emptiness around her.
She drew herself tight beneath the thin sheets in a vain attempt to fight the morning chill. Outside, snowflakes fluttered down from the sky.
The first snow of the winter.
“Is it that hard to believe?” she repeated to herself.
Kind of.
“Shut up.”
Twilight slipped in through a crack in the bedroom door. Her friends still sat around the table, exchanging idle chatter as they waited for the guest of honor to return. Rainbow had retrieved a new cloud, judging by the small pockets of snow on it. Cadence noticed Twilight’s return first.
“Is everything alright?” she asked.
“Yeah. She just needed to lay down,” Twilight explained.
“Well, after everything you’ve told us, she definitely deserves it,” Cadence agreed.
“What about you, Twilight?” Applejack wondered.
“I’m alright. In fact, I feel better than I have in a long time.”
“Glad to hear it.”
The group finished their refreshments in relative quiet. Occasionally, a hint of conversation would return to address some portion of recent events. Twilight explained her theories on Celestia’s condition and filled in a few extra details about her battle with the Nightmare. She made sure to keep her outburst secret.
“So, what are your plans now?” Rainbow questioned. “You coming back to Ponyville yet? It’s been boring without you stirring up trouble.”
“Not just yet.” Twilight finished the last of the biscuits, dripping a bit of grape jelly onto the table. “Celestia isn’t healed yet. I need to figure out what went wrong with my cure. I have a few ideas, but . . .”
“Don’t you think you should take a break?” Rarity suggested.
“I don’t have time,” Twilight argued.
“I know. Still, a break could help you clear your head. Maybe allow you to think of something you haven’t considered before.” Rarity wiped her lip unnecessarily with a napkin. “According to Sweetie Belle, when you’re struggling with a difficult problem, it can help to take a step back and return with a fresh perspective.”
“I suppose that’s a fair point.”
“I suggest we go out for dinner tonight. Somewhere fancy where you can take your mind off all of this.” The unicorn motioned to the castle around her.
“I don’t know . . .”
“Come on, Twilight.” Applejack clapped Twilight on the back. “Just one night won’t hurt nothing.”
“I guess so. You had something in mind?”
“The Canterlot Crown.” Rarity threw her forelegs up in the air.
“That fancy restaurant down the street. I’ve heard you have to make a reservation days in advance to get in there.” Twilight inquired.
“For a normal pony,” Cadence admitted. “But they’re kind enough to make exceptions for princesses.”
“I don’t want to take anyone’s spot.”
“They’re contractually obligated to. Celestia keeps them on the payroll to keep a dining room open in case it’s needed for Royal meetings. For last minute envoys and such.” Cadence wore a proud smile.
Twilight tried to mimic the grin, but only managed a nervous imitation.
“What do I wear?”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Rarity said dramatically. “I’ll make sure you look beautiful for a night on the town.”
“Did you invite Spike and Starlight, too?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Cadence nodded.
“What about Chrysalis?”
Cadence sighed.
“I don’t . . . think that’s a good idea, Twilight.”
“I don’t want to just leave her here.”
“The ponies of Canterlot still don’t know about her or what happened to Celestia. I don’t think we can risk her being seen by the public while she can’t disguise herself.” Cadence perked up. “But, if you think she needs it, I’d be happy to keep her company myself.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Besides, you said yourself that she needs rest. You go enjoy yourself, I’ll make sure Chrysalis is taken care of. I owe the both of you that much.”
A cheer erupted from the group, nearly knocking Twilight from her chair.
“Under one condition,” Cadence declared.
The ponies turned to her, confused.
“Until you leave tonight, I want you to rest, Twilight. No working. No studying. Just resting.”
“I’m a grown-up, Cadence. You’re not my foalsitter anymore. I can take care of myself. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Last time you said that, Twilight, you hadn’t eaten in over a day. I promised that I wouldn’t tell you what to do as a princess. But I’m telling you this as your sister. It’s entirely different.”
Twilight frowned.
Cadence held a stiff upper lip.
“Fine,” Twilight scowled. “Send me to bed like a little filly.”
“Glad we settled that. As for the rest of you, I don’t want any of you disturbing Twilight’s rest. You’ll have all night to talk. All right?”
Cadence sounded like an overbearing mother. A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the adult mares at the table. Still, despite their age, the authority in the alicorn’s voice demanded respect.
“Understood, Princess Cadence,” They all agreed.
“Good. In the meantime, the guards have been instructed to treat you all as honored guests. Canterlot Castle is fully open to you, as are the castle grounds, and the city of Canterlot. Enjoy yourselves. If I might make a recommendation, there is a spa in the lower wings.”
Twilight waved goodbye to her friends as they were escorted to their day of relaxation. Except for Cadence, who received a sour frown. Given her laughter, Twilight guessed the Princess of Love enjoyed her power.
Still, once she returned to her room and settled into bed, Twilight realized she made the right choice. Though her sheets had not been changed since her return, they felt cooler and softer than she remembered.
It didn’t take long for her body’s betrayal to take hold. Her eyelids grew heavier with each snowflake that fluttered past the windows. Buried beneath several blankets, Twilight quickly settled in for a restful slumber.
“How is it so cold already?” Twilight exclaimed as she stepped out into the castle courtyard.
A few inches of snow had already gathered over the grass, leaving just the green tips of the blades poking through. The guards on either side of the main gate had been equipped with snow boots and scarves. Given their usual stoicism, it seemed to be enough for them. The orange streaks of dusk blazed overhead.
“It’s winter, Sugarcube. It’s cold,” Applejack said plainly as she straightened her styled mane.
“I know, but it was not this cold a few days ago.”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about. This is the best time of the year!” Pinked hollered, beaning one of the guards with a snowball.
“The quicker we get to the restaurant, the sooner we get warm,” Starlight explained.
“Right,” Applejack led the party through the golden gates. Luckily, the stone walkways had yet to snow over, leaving a clear path.
With a sharp whistle and a friendly wave, she summoned a carriage to the sidewalk. The poor pony pulling the cart had been wrapped tip-to-tail in every article of winter clothes he owned.
“Where are you ladies off to this evening?”
A harsh breeze stole Applejack’s answer from every pony other than her and the driver. It simultaneously sent a chill through Twilight’s thin dress.
Her friends allowed her to enter the carriage first. The cabin could hardly be called insulated, but it did feel several degrees warmer than outside. One-by-one, the others piled in after her. The vehicle had been designed to hold six, but it didn’t do so comfortably.
“I feel underdressed,” Twilight admitted, glancing down at her plain white evening gown before switching to admire her friends.
Fluttershy wore a vibrant green dress that dazzled in the light.
Rainbow chose a tasteful blue gown.
Applejack preferred a simple orange getup, complete with her usual cowgirl hat.
Pinkie had been wrestled into a yellow dress edged with white frills. The accents matched the powder from her short yet intense playtime in the snow.
Starlight slipped into a thin dark gown that accentuated the color of her fur.
Each of their outfits was completed with a set of warm baubles. Including scarves and fancy horseshoes. All six of them had styled their manes to the best of their ability without Rarity to help. Apparently, she had decided to catch up on her work before their fancy evening and had taken Spike down to her boutique to aid her.
At least, that had been the reason printed on the letter that accompanied the dress currently draped over Twilight.
“You’re not underdressed,” Fluttershy cooed.
“You know, when you’re the princess, I think you set the standard for the dress code. I think that just makes us overdressed,” Rainbow argued.
“Is that how it works? I usually rely on Rarity for things like that,” Twilight muttered.
“Who cares. The dress code isn’t what tonight’s about,” Applejack complained.
“Applejack’s right. We’d love you even if you were naked, Twilight.” Pinkie grinned.
“That’s . . . encouraging?”
Trying her best to ignore the difference in apparel, Twilight found herself gazing thoughtfully out the window. In the winter evening, a haze settled over Canterlot, blotting out most of their view of the castle. Here and there, a few lights still broke through the mist.
Several bumpy cobblestone roads later, the carriage finally stopped. The trip had been longer than Twilight remembered. It had been some time since her last visit to the Crown, though, so perhaps she misremembered.
That is, until she stepped out and onto the sidewalk in front of Canterlot Carousel.
“This isn’t the Canterlot Crown.” Twilight cast a sideways glance at the rest of the group climbing out into the snow.
“Nope.” Applejack shook her head.
“Rarity wanted us to bring you here, first.” Rather than use the steps, Rainbow glided down from the cabin on her wings.
“What for?”
“That’s for you to find out, isn’t it?” Applejack raised an eyebrow.
Most of the group filed in through the front door, leaving Twilight, Fluttershy, and the driver out in the cold.
“I hope you don’t mind waiting. Tonight’s a special night for Princess Twilight. We’ve got the bits to pay you for it.” Fluttershy batted her lashes as she spoke.
“Not many customers out tonight anyways,” he shrugged. “Sure thing.”
With that matter dealt with, Fluttershy joined Twilight at the door. Neither of them entered, though. Instead, they stood beneath the harsh winter wind, staring at the familiar scene playing out before them.
Twilight watched the two reflections in the storefront glass. Though only a few days ago, that night with Fluttershy belonged in another life. The alicorn struggled to recognize the jovial mare that mirrored her.
“You seem happy.”
Fluttershy’s voice sounded gentle beneath the breeze.
“I am.”
“Because of her?”
“That’s a part of it. I know it sounds crazy. It is crazy.”
“A bit.”
Even beneath winter’s claw, Twilight’s collar simmered.
“I know how you feel about her. I won’t ask you to accept it.”
“It’s alright, Twilight. She makes you happy. That’s enough for me to try.”
“Thank you, Fluttershy.”
The Carousel’s door wrenched open, revealing a confused Applejack.
“What in tarnation are you two still doing waiting around out here?”
“Twilight was just helping me fix one of my shoes,” Fluttershy lied.
An unconvinced Applejack stepped aside, allowing Twilight and Fluttershy inside.
The boutique looked different than Twilight remembered. Clearly, it had undergone extensive renovations since her last visit. The storefront had been remodeled into a waiting room of sorts. Expensive looking sofas and deep-cushioned chairs had been arranged for guests to sit and chat while they waited for their fitting.
A grand marble staircase in the corner spiraled up toward the second floor. From here, she could see the rows of finely dressed displays and aisles of clothing for sale. Back on the first floor, hidden away in the back, a hallway led to the rest of the store.
The group made themselves comfortable. Fluttershy and Applejack joined Rainbow Dash and Pinkie over one of the meeting areas, joining their debate over the end of the Buckball season. Starlight had crashed solo on one of the couches, her arm tucked beneath a pillow and her face buried into the soft plush. Only the occasional shuffling indicated her consciousness.
“Twilight?” A sharply dressed Spike appeared at the mouth of the hallway. “Rarity needs you.”
“Me?” Twilight asked.
Spike nodded, leading her to Rarity’s office toward the back corner of the building.
“She’s waiting inside,” Spike announced before leaving to join the rest of their friends in waiting.
Taking a moment to make her dress presentable, Twilight knocked on the door.
“Rarity? Are you in there?”
“Twilight? Please, come in.”
Bracing herself, Twilight complied, stepping into the spacious office. Several desks were scattered about the room, each one flanked by cases of sewing materials and various machines to aid in their use. A couple of half-finished dresses hung around the room on blank mannequins.
Rarity stood at the far end of the office with her back to Twilight. For the moment, she seemed lost in finishing the needlework on her latest project.
“Spike said you wanted to see me?”
“I’m just adding the finishing touches now,” Rarity explained, searching one of her nearby baskets for the perfect gem to complete the design.
“On what?”
“You’ll see. Take a seat over there.” Without turning, Rarity pointed toward one of the unoccupied chairs around the room. As Twilight made her way toward her seat, Rarity made sure to block the view of her newest dress. That didn’t stop her from noticing the purple fabric draped over the model.
“So, why all the secrecy?” Twilight inquired.
“Because, it’s a surprise,” Rarity said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“For who?”
“That’s a surprise, too.”
Twilight settled into her seat, careful to keep her dress from wrinkling as she did. Bored by the wait, she started to twirl the chair aimlessly. She moved slowly to keep the plastic and metal from squeaking.
Rarity fished another gem from her collection. Based on the coloring, it must have been a ruby. She held it up to the unfinished dress. Seemingly unsatisfied, she returned it to her collection before retrieving another to test. The newly selected diamond fit her tastes better, as she slotted it into the seam.
“There. That’s better,” Rarity mumbled as she nodded to herself.
Annoyed by her chair, Twilight found another way to occupy her attention. She retrieved a magazine from one of the shelves nearby. She knew next to nothing about fashion but insisted on losing herself in a review of the latest Manehatten fashion show. She only ever made it halfway through.
“Finished,” Rarity announced, stepping aside to show off her latest creation.
“Wow.” Twilight returned the magazine carefully to its place on the shelf before getting a better look at Equestria’s next big fashion trend.
“What do you think?”
Twilight took a moment to drink in the view. A figure of a mare had been draped in a stylish pink dress. A waterfall of frills cascaded down the gown, blossoming out into the flowery pattern like an old-fashioned ball gown. Several purple sections had been fitted in between. A glittering golden trim edged the silken exterior.
“It’s beautiful, Rarity,” Twilight offered.
“You like it?”
“I do. I mean, I don’t know much about the world of fashion, but I like it.”
“I’m glad. Want to try it on?”
The seamstress removed her dress carefully from the figurine, levitating it over toward Twilight while smoothing out the creases and double-checking the seams.
“What? I don’t know if I’m the best model for it.”
“But you are, Darling. Who better to be at the head of a fashion trend than a princess?”
Twilight couldn’t argue with that.
“All right. I guess I could do it, if you really want me to.”
Rarity relinquished the dress to Twilight, but she refused it.
“Is something wrong? There’s a privacy curtain over there, if you need it.” Rarity noted, adjusting her glasses.
“Would you be willing to . . . help me?”
“With what?” Rarity asked hesitantly.
“I’m having some . . . trouble with my magic at the moment. Cadence had to help me into this dress,” Twilight admitted with an embarrassed grin.
“Oh. That’s not a problem, Darling.”
With a burst of magic, Rarity unzipped Twilight’s dress. The white gown dropped to the floor, allowing Twilight to step out.
“Here. Step inside,” Rarity commanded, holding the new outfit open.
Twilight did as she was told, fitting each of her legs into the right spot. Rarity pulled the gown tight, fitting each strap into place as she examined her handiwork.
“Comfortable?”
“It’s softer than I thought it would be,” Twilight noticed.
“Of course. It’s incredibly expensive exotic silk. Quite rare, if you don’t know where to look for it. It is most definitely worth the effort though. You look ravishing, Twilight.”
Twilight blushed, waving a hoof nonchalantly. She turned to the mirror nearby, twirling to see each intricate detail of the outfit. The seams had been fitted with small diamonds, causing the dress to sparkle as she moved.
“Does it fit alright, or should I make some alterations?” Rarity admired the view. Not just of Twilight in the new dress, but of the foalish joy that radiated from the princess.
“It fits perfectly. Snug in all the right places. When will these be ready for sale? I’m already sold.”
“It’s not quite finished yet. There’s another piece to it.”
Rarity returned the white gown to a rack nearby, only adding to Twilight’s confusion. Before returning, she retrieved a small silver case from one of her bottom desk drawers. She set it on the desk itself, motioning for Twilight to join her.
“What’s that?” Twilight inquired.
“The finishing touch.”
With a dramatic flourish, Rarity snapped open the clasp on the case. Inside, reclined on a throne of red cushion, sat Twilight’s tiara.
“Is that . . .”
“I didn’t steal yours, if that’s what you’re asking.” Rarity chuckled. “It’s an imitation. A good imitation, though. I noticed after the whole Sunset Shimmer debacle, you stopped wearing your crown. So, I thought you would like one you can still wear in public.”
“Rarity . . .” Twilight’s eyes misted.
“I’ll take it you like it, Darling?”
“Of course. I . . . It’s lovely.”
Still dressed in her best smile, Rarity lifted the crown from its case, setting it gently on Twilight’s bowed head. When she rose, she held her head high. Somehow, the sudden weight felt comfortable. It felt right.
“How could I ever repay you for this, Rarity?”
“This is a gift, Twilight. I wouldn’t charge you for that.”
“But it couldn’t have been cheap. I mean . . .”
Rarity shushed her.
“Stop right there, Princess Sparkle. I won’t hear another word of this. If you must consider some sort of payment, then just think of this as me repaying the debts I owe you. None of us would be where we are today without you.”
“You’re going to make me cry,” Twilight sniffled.
“Don’t do that. You’ll ruin your makeup,” Rarity taunted playfully.
“It probably needs to be fixed anyways.”
“Nonsense. As I said, you look ravishing. Now, why don’t we let our friends see your new look?”
Rarity led Twilight back out into the storefront. She captured the room’s attention by clearing her throat, but once the others looked up, they only saw Twilight. They blinked a few times in unison.
“Whoa,” Rainbow muttered.
“You can say that again,” Applejack agreed.
“It’s beautiful, Rarity,” Fluttershy added.
“Where can I get one?” Starlight questioned.
“Where did you get the crown?” Spike wondered.
“As much as I enjoy all of us standing around admiring my work, we have a reservation to keep. Give me a moment to make myself presentable, and then we’re off to the Canterlot Crown,” Rarity announced.
Stuck in the moment, Twilight could only nod. She wanted this moment to last forever. A perfect moment. One she spent with her friends gathered by her side, with the excitement of a lovely night ahead. In this moment, she finally forgot the nagging dread nuzzling at the back of her mind.
“So, Rarity, when do the rest of us get dresses like that?”
“Tell you what, Rainbow. The day you get a horn and a crown, you come see me and I’ll make you your own special dress too.”
Spike and the girls giggled at the exchanged barbs. The carriage had only grown more crowded with the addition of Rarity as well as Twilight’s new outfit. Starlight and Spike offered to sit on the floor between the two seats, leaving everyone packed tightly together.
“How am I supposed to get a horn?” Rainbow pouted.
“Since when do you care about fancy dresses and looking spiffy?” Applejack raised an eyebrow.
Rainbow coughed. “Sometimes, I like to look nice, okay? Don’t look at me like that.”
Another round of chuckles lasted until the carriage lurched to a stop.
“Looks like we’re here,” Starlight announced, ducking to spy out the window.
The group spilled out onto the crowded sidewalk. As Twilight exited, a hush fell over the crowd, followed closely by excited exclamations and cheering. A small group of ponies were waiting outside the tall brick building, huddled beneath a massive neon sign in the shape of a generic crown. The restaurant’s name sat beneath it, scribbled in neat cursive.
Spike elbowed Twilight.
“Seems like they’re happy to see you.”
Rarity offered the driver a bag of bits, but he only accepted half payment with the explanation: “No princess that rides in my carriage pays full price.” He bowed low before taking off back onto the crowded Canterlot streets, leaving the girls on the sidewalk.
“Princess Twilight?” A stallion approached, dressed in exceptionally fine waiter’s attire. “Will you be needing the Royal Dining Room tonight?”
“We will. Thank you.”
The waiter nodded. “It will only take a moment for us to set everything up. You can head inside whenever you’re ready.”
The group filed past, each with their own variation of thanks to the host and friendly waves to the gathered citizens each vying for their princess’ attention. As she greeted her subjects, Twilight made sure to model her dress the best she could, much to Rarity’s pleasure.
Inside, the air took on a calmer demeanor. While diners glanced up from their parties to gawk at the princess, they neither mobbed nor cheered for her, to her relief. Royalty certainly had its perks, but there were a few downsides that most dreaming fillies never expected.
“If you’ll follow me, I can show you to your private room.” The unicorn hostess gathered a stack of laminated menus before leading the party back through the main dining hall. Twilight tried to return each amazed face with her own cheery greeting. The waitress slipped a key from her pocket, unlocking a set of double glass doors decorated with a mosaic of two royal sisters.
“So, when do you get added to the picture?” Starlight whispered, just loud enough for Twilight to hear.
“Don’t be rude,” Twilight chided her.
“What? It’s true.”
The lock clicked and the doors opened, revealing the sight beyond. A long, engraved table stretched the length of the room. Over a dozen hardwood chairs lined up on either side, each sporting their own red padding that mimicked the appearance of an old-fashioned throne.
Several silver candelabras were spread across the lengthy table, but most of the illumination came from the golden vine-like lights that snaked along the ceiling. Windows lined the right wall. Normally, they offered a view of Canterlot Castle in the distance. As it happened now, the castle’s silhouette had only blended deeper into the hazy snowstorm.
“Here you are. A few members of our staff should be along soon to wait on you.” The hostess distributed the menus to each seat along with a neatly folded napkin and pure silver utensils.
“Thank you.”
“Enjoy your evening, Your Majesty.”
She closed the doors behind her as she left.
“Fancy digs.” Applejack bobbed her head slowly, taking in the view.
“I’ll say. This place might be nicer than Canterlot Castle,” Rainbow gloated.
“Don’t let the Castle kitchen staff hear you say that,” Twilight warned. “They’ll already be upset when they find out that I chose a restaurant over them.”
“It’s a special occasion, Darling. Surely they’ll understand.”
The princess and her seven guests each claimed their seats. Together, they took up less than half of the table. They kept the balance uneven, piling on at the far end of the long dining set.
“So, Dash, what are you thinking of getting,” Pinkie asked.
“I’m not sure. I can’t even pronounce half of these dishes.”
Applejack tilted her head. “I don’t suppose they’d just be willing to rustle up some hayburgers or something simple like that?”
Rarity scoffed. “Applejack, if you dare order a hayburger at an establishment of this caliber, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you.”
“Well, what are you getting then?” Fluttershy interjected.
Rarity unfolded her menu, humming quietly as she browsed through the list.
“Do you think they’ll let me order a dessert for dinner? Wait, what if I order a dessert for dinner, then a dessert for dessert, too?” Pinkie gasped.
“Don’t you ever eat actual food?” Starlight wondered aloud.
“Sometimes. I usually prefer dessert, though. I’ll have to make sure their desserts are up to the job. I can be a very difficult customer to please,” Pinkie explained in a mocking display of poise and maturity.
“Didn’t you eat a batch of burnt cupcakes once?” Rainbow squinted.
“Well yeah, but they were good burnt cupcakes.”
“Have any of you actually eaten here before?” Twilight questioned, watching the group over the top of her menu.
An enthusiastic round of shaking heads responded.
“Have you?” Fluttershy inquired.
“No,” Twilight admitted flatly.
While they perused their choices, a small army of servers entered, carrying with them sparkling wine glasses and other miscellaneous empty dishes for their meal. Taking advantage of Rarity’s expertise, Twilight ordered a bottle of red wine to share. An enthusiastic waiter brought it out within the minute, uncorking the wine and setting it in front of the princess before leaving.
“I’ve never had wine before. I’m not sure I’ll like it.” Fluttershy watched the red liquid swirl as though it were an alien.
“Would you like to try it? After we let it breathe for a while, that is. This is a fine vintage. I think you’ll like it.” Rarity clarified.
Twilight smiled as she studied each option available for her dinner. Still, as she read each word, as she finally settled into to enjoy her night, the whispering returned. She glanced around the table through a thin misty filter.
Chrysalis studied the map on the ceiling. She examined each curve of paint carefully, studying the way the color glowed in the moonlight and wondering how she never noticed it before. In her head, she pictured some far-off land that inspired such a work of artistry. She considered what strange beasts would line its wilds, what civilizations lay untouched for so long. Most importantly, she wondered what color she would repaint it when she had permission.
“Chrysalis?”
Cadence’s voice interrupted her important soul searching. In truth, the princess had been standing outside the door for a while. The love radiating from her at any given moment might as well have been a beacon shining through the night.
“I’m not here right now,” Chrysalis yelled back.
“I was just checking to see if you needed anything. Maybe something to eat? Or drink? Or whatever it is that changelings call it? Feeding?”
With a groan, Chrysalis climbed upright. While her patience had worn thin during the second interruption, this one had finally broken it. She stormed to the door, swinging it open to reveal the soft pink mare standing outside, grinning like an idiot.
“What do you want, Cadence?”
“I told you, I was just checking to see if you needed anything.”
“I don’t.”
“You sure? You’ve been sitting in your room all day. You know, you’ve been granted access to the rest of the castle grounds. I hear the Gardens are beautiful this time of night.”
“I’ll pass, thanks,” Chrysalis stated listlessly.
“Then what about a visit to the celestial observatory? See the heavens in a whole new light.”
“Sounds riveting. You’ll have to show it to me someday.”
“Alright, maybe this one is more your style? Want to spar with some guards? The only rule is no killing or permanent damage.”
“Cadence, what is all this about?”
“What?”
Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “Why are you trying so hard to convince me to do something? I just want to sit in my room. Alone. At least until Twilight gets back. Okay?”
Cadence pouted. “Isn’t it boring?”
“Incredibly.”
“But you’d rather do that than do anything with me.”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” The princess whimpered like an injured pup.
A slimy guilt slithered through Chrysalis at the sight of the heartbroken mare. Of course, she could barely register it through the blinding hunger gnawing at her.
“Well,” Cadence continued. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’ll leave you to your night.”
“You still didn’t answer my question.”
“And what question is that?”
“Why are you trying so hard to . . . be nice. It’s weird.”
“I’m . . . sorry? Was it something I said?” Cadence apologized.
“No. You just seem . . .” Chrysalis searched for the right explanation. “You seem so eager to keep me company while Twilight’s gone. And while I’m sure that Twilight specifically asked you to do so, you appear genuinely interested in spending time with me. Why?”
“Well . . . you’re Twilight’s friend now. As her sister-in-law, I think it’s only fair that any friend of hers is a friend of mine.” Cadence slid a stray strand of her mane back into place.
Chrysalis scoffed. “I’m not a friend of yours, Cadence. Don’t kid yourself.”
“Neither were you and Twilight, at first.”
A sense of defeat overwhelmed the changeling. After a short silence, she continued. “Fine. If it will satiate your desire for me to leave my room, you can escort me to Thorax’s room. I assume you’re able to do that.”
“Sure.” Cadence nodded, trying her best to hide her insulted feelings.
“Then lead the way.”
Chrysalis followed Cadence into the hallway, making sure to close the door behind her. With her growing hunger, a minuscule drop of saliva trickled from Chrysalis’ lips. She wiped it away before her companion could notice. At this point, even standing in the same room with the princess started to hurt. Luckily, the years spent half-starved left her with immense self-control.
“So, why are you going to see Thorax?” Cadence wondered.
“No real reason. We were planning on overthrowing the kingdom before Twilight got back. I just want to make sure that everything is still going according to plan.”
Cadence laughed a quiet, nervous laugh.
“Well, you didn’t sic guards on me, so I guess that’s a good start. In truth, though, I do need to speak with him. I’ve . . . had a lot on my mind since I returned from the nightmare world.”
“You could always talk to me,” Cadence offered.
“Well, if there are no walls, floors, or ceilings available, I’ll keep that in mind,” Chrysalis snarked.
Cadence didn’t try to strike up another conversation. The foreboding shame roiling through the changeling only built with each piled insult and slight. The world slipped in and out of focus. She corrected her wandering senses with a sharp bite, piercing one of her fangs into her tongue. With the taste of copper, the mental fog lifted.
“Here we are.” Cadence stepped aside, motioning to one of the myriad unmarked wooden doors that lined the thinner hallway.
“This is Thorax’s room?”
“Yup.”
“Well, thank you. I doubt I would have found it without you.”
Chrysalis brushed past Cadence, knocking three times on the hard oak. Cadence drifted away, her gait awkward and lazy.
“One second,” Thorax called from the other side.
Short on patience for the evening, Chrysalis knocked again.
“One second!” He yelled a little louder this time.
As Chrysalis moved for a third round, the door swung inward, revealing a lime green pegasus stallion, dressed in a casual black suit and sporting a slicked-back mane.
“What are you wearing?” Chrysalis asked, blinking several times.
“Chrysalis? Oh, I thought you were . . . uh . . . don’t worry about it. Come on in.” The stallion nodded, motioning for Chrysalis to follow him inside.
Though the suite held all the same amenities as those upstairs, they were all crammed into a space about half the size. Two chests of drawers. A bed. A private bathroom. All with only a few feet of open floor between them.
“Everything alright?” Thorax questioned.
“You look ridiculous,” Chrysalis snapped, lounging on Thorax’s bed. Unlike hers, this bed had only been designed for a regular pony, meaning her legs hung over the edge no matter how she tried to fit.
“Oh, this?” Thorax rose to his hind legs, presenting the full outfit.
“Why are you wearing that?”
“I was planning on heading down to one of the bars in downtown Canterlot tonight. You know, see if I can find a quick bite to eat.”
“You’re still feeding on ponies?” Chrysalis’ eyes widened.
“Only those willing to share,” Thorax assured her.
“Then why the disguise?”
“I’ve found that a lot of ponies freak out if a changeling starts talking to them. If you start as a pony, and the two of you hit it off, they’re usually a lot cooler about the reveal.”
“How do you figure?”
“If they know I’m normal, they’re not so scared of me. Besides, I don’t feel like starting trouble with anyone by flaunting my changeling body. Hold on, did you come here just to ask me about this?”
“Not really. I mostly came so Cadence would quit bothering me to get out of my room,” Chrysalis chuckled. Thorax didn’t.
“Is everything okay?”
Chrysalis plastered on the most reassuring smile she could.
“No.”
The two of them let the answer hang in the air for nearly a minute.
“Tell me.”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“About?”
“Everything.” She lowered her head onto her crossed forelegs.
“Anything in particular?”
“You.”
Thorax raised an eyebrow. “Me?”
“Are you alright? After everything that happened in my dream.”
“You’re worried about me?”
“I nearly killed you, Thorax.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve almost died,” Thorax waved a hoof dismissively, but Chrysalis only retreated deeper into herself.
“It’s not funny.”
“I had faith in you, Chrysalis. I knew you wouldn’t let me die,” He explained in a more reassuring tone.
“That makes one of us.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m fine. We all made it out of there in one piece, okay? You don’t need to worry about it. I’m not the fragile little drone I used to be.”
“Maybe not. You’re still my fragile little drone, though.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to work harder to show you the truth.”
“If I’m being honest, I don’t think I’ll ever see you as anything else. Back in that hive, when I thought I’d lost you . . .”
“You didn’t lose me.”
“But I did.”
Chrysalis turned to watch the snow sink past the windows. Outside, a wintery fog hid the rest of Canterlot from view. She thought of Twilight, out with her friends, laughing and playing as they roamed the frozen streets.
“I left. That’s not your fault.”
“I drove you away. I pushed you too far.”
Thorax leaned forward, pleading. “You didn’t. I swear.”
“Why did you leave, Thorax?”
“I . . .”
“Tell me.”
Thorax collapsed in his chair. He slid down slowly into the cushion, wracking his mind for the best way to frame his reasons.
“I couldn’t handle it anymore. I couldn’t stand hurting innocent ponies for something we didn’t have to take. I thought we could live in harmony with them, sharing our love freely without hurting anyone,” he blurted.
“You think I’m a monster, don’t you?”
“I don’t. I think you did what you thought best for your changelings.”
“And yet, you feared me to the point where you would rather leave than tell me the truth.”
Thorax threw his head back with a sigh. “I knew you too well. Your pride would never have allowed it. I never wanted it to end like this, though. When I left, I wanted to find my own way, live my own life. When I learned that you had taken Twilight and the other princesses . . . I couldn’t sit idly by and watch it happen.”
“And what did you think of me in that moment?”
“I thought . . . I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to think that you would do something like that. I hoped that some other group of changelings might be behind it. Or maybe you’d finally lost it.”
“But the truth is simpler than that, isn’t it? I was a monster.”
“You were,” Thorax admitted, ashamed.
“That day when you led that assault to my hive, I hated you.”
Thorax flinched, but Chrysalis continued, her focus still on the falling snow and the memories projected on the emptiness behind them.
“I intended to make an example of you. To show what would happen when one of my changelings disobeyed me.”
Thorax tried to speak, but his words were stuck.
“And then you changed. You showed changeling-kind that they didn’t have to live in fear, stealing to survive. You usurped me.”
“I didn’t—”
“I was furious. But now, when I think back on everything that happened . . . I’m ashamed. At some point, I became so desperate to prove myself that I threatened my changelings. I drove them away. My plans became more about satisfying my ego than saving my children.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because you deserve an apology. All of you.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. Things are different now. You’ve changed.”
“It’s far too late for that, I’m afraid. I’ve been wondering about what I’ll do when all this is over. When Celestia is finally awake. When you go back to your hive.”
“You could come with me?” he hoped in vain.
Even grown up, Thorax’s youthful innocence brought a smile to the old changeling’s face. “We both know that won’t happen. I think you might be the only one of my changelings that still tolerates me.”
“But they’ll listen to me.”
“I can’t ask you to do that for me.”
“You don’t have to ask.”
“Thorax . . .” Chrysalis twisted her voice into a motherly tone as she turned toward him. Gentle, yet firm.
“Then you’ll go with Twilight?”
“I don’t know.” She turned back to the storm outside.
“I thought the two of you were . . . you know. I mean, after that display upstairs . . .”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“I know Twilight can be strange, but she’s one of the nicest ponies—”
“Please stop, Thorax.”
They listened to the quiet clicking as the white flakes scratched across the glass outside. Thorax frowned as he watched his mother think. Though he knew lying would only make the situation worse, he couldn’t help but feel partly responsible for her melancholy. Regret bubbled in his chest.
“I’ve been thinking about Twilight,” Chrysalis finally admitted.
“Anything I should know?”
“I was going to Claim her.”
Thorax tensed.
“Was?”
Chrysalis opened her mouth to speak when a knock rattled the door.
“Thorax? You in there?”
Both changelings recognized the voice.
“Give me one second, Pharynx.”
“We don’t have any time to waste. We’re starving out here. Hurry up.”
“It seems your subjects are waiting for you, Thorax,” Chrysalis mused.
“They can wait. We’re not finished talking.”
“Is someone in there?” Pharynx called. The door burst open, revealing the navy-blue carapace of another reformed changeling. When he noticed his former queen, his red wings fluttered subtly.
“It would seem we’re finished after all.” Chrysalis rose. Thorax didn’t try to stop her this time. She forged her stoic mask as she turned to face her second son. Only then did she notice the half-a-dozen changelings waiting behind him, glancing over his shoulder, alarmed by their shared empathy.
“Chrysalis,” Pharynx monotoned as she passed, not bothering to look her in the eye.
“Pharynx.” She pushed past, failing to acknowledge any of the changelings gathered here. Though several were not her blood children, she recognized each of them. A hot shame flushed beneath her mask as she struggled to remember their names.
When she finally wrestled free of the gathered party, she stumbled into another unfortunate scenario. Cadence sat at the end of the hallway, watching the display with vested interest.
“I’m ready to head back up,” Chrysalis ordered.
“All right,” Cadence agreed, obviously troubled by the sudden somber aura. The two of them returned to the upper chambers together, and back to Chrysalis’ marked door.
“How are you holding up?”
“Tell Twilight I’ll be waiting for her.”
Chrysalis cracked open the door and slipped inside, closing it and locking it once she passed. Cadence plopped to the ground on the spot. She sat outside Chrysalis’ chambers for several minutes, wondering.
“I’ll tell her,” Cadence whispered to the emptiness.
Twilight stared at her empty plate. Even a full belly couldn’t ward off the emptiness she felt inside. Her shoulders heaved with a heavy sigh.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you think too much?”
Her gaze flicked toward Rainbow Dash, pushing her own cleaned plate farther onto the table.
“Yes.”
“Perhaps this wasn’t the best course this evening,” Rarity lamented.
“No,” Twilight recomposed herself. “I’m glad I got to spend tonight with all of you guys. I just wish she could be here too. I can’t believe I just left her alone.”
“She’s not alone,” Pinkie pointed out. “She’s got Cadence with her.”
“That’s not really what I meant,” Twilight clarified.
“So, you’ve really fallen for a Changeling Queen?” Applejack inquired.
It sounded like the butt of a bad joke. A Princess and a Queen. Twilight shook that thought from her head. A Princess and a Changeling Queen. If she hadn’t experienced it personally, Twilight would never have believed such a fanciful tale.
“It looks that way,” Twilight whispered, putting her head on the table.
Applejack scratched her neck. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You’re right, though. I know it’s crazy. I don’t understand it fully myself.”
“Sometimes, that’s how love is,” Rarity explained. “It can’t be tallied up to some sort of equation or reason. Sometimes it just happens.”
“But why her?” Twilight demanded. “Of all the ponies I could have fallen for, why is it Chrysalis? She’s nearly killed my friends; she’s brainwashed my brother. Every sensible neuron in my brain tells me that this is a horrible idea.”
“Maybe it is?” Fluttershy shrugged. “The question is: is she worth it?”
“I think so.”
“You think so?” Rarity raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” Twilight cried.
“Twilight Sparkle,” Rarity chastised.
“What?” Twilight moaned.
“Don’t tell me what you think. Tell me what you feel.”
“I feel like I want to go home.”
“You know,” Rainbow started, “If I remember correctly, you didn’t seem to have much of a problem with this while you were making out with her on the castle floor.”
Twilight blushed, but she smirked, if only slightly. “I got caught up in the moment. What can I say?”
“Then there’s your answer, Twilight.” Rarity sipped at her wine.
“But Chrysalis?”
“But nothing,” Rarity commanded. “You’ve clearly fallen for her. You just admitted yourself. When you’re caught up in the moment and don’t have time to think, you love her.”
“But then I realized just how bad of an idea it is. You should’ve seen the way Luna, Shining, and Cadence reacted. They hate her. What can I expect from the ponies of Equestria? What can I expect from all of you?”
“You think we hate her?” Fluttershy frowned.
“I think you all know it’s a bad idea.”
Rarity set her empty glass down beside the empty bottle. A thin wisp of pink shaded her cheeks. “Twilight, what does it matter what anyone else thinks? You’re worried we’ll all think you’re crazy? That’s never stopped us from following you into Tartarus itself. So, it might take us a while to catch up. So, we might have problems with Chrysalis. We’re your friends first and foremost. If you think Chrysalis has changed, if you think Chrysalis is the one you love, then we’re behind you all the way.”
“Besides,” Starlight added, “You act like she’s the first villain we’ve ever been close with. Discord. Luna. Trixie.”
“I agree with all of that list except Trixie,” Twilight snarled.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ve all been through this before. If you believe in her, we believe in you.”
“Thanks, girls. That means a lot to me.”
“Then why are you still sitting here?” Rainbow chided.
“Where else would I be?” Twilight scrunched her face in confusion.
“In a carriage, heading back to the Castle?”
“I couldn’t just leave you guys.”
“Cadence told us that the bill is sent to the castle, so we don’t have to worry about paying, we’ll get another carriage back, and we’ll leash Pinkie so we don’t have to chase her down to each ice cream parlor in town,” Rarity explained.
“I meant that it’s rude.”
“Twilight, is it really rude if we’re telling you to go?”
“Besides, we’re not heading back to the castle after this. We’ve got ice cream shops to hit up,” Pinkie exclaimed.
“I know a great one that isn’t too far,” Fluttershy interjected.
“You really are the best friends a girl could have. You know that?”
“Of course we do, Darling. Now get going.”
At her friends’ behest, Twilight rose from her seat, heading for the exit.
“Tell her we all said hi,” Rarity called out, waving her goodbyes.
The rest of the party, save for Spike, followed suit. The dragon gathered his uneaten gems, packing them into the bag Rarity had given him as payment for his services. He jogged out of the restaurant after his caretaker.
She passed the crowds, exchanging quick pleasantries with the hostess as she hurried out into the street. The crowd from earlier had dispersed, but several couples were still walking the lantern-lit paths of the city. Twilight flagged down a passing carriage pulled by a stocky mare.
“Where to?” she asked.
“Canterlot Castle,” Twilight replied before climbing aboard. Spike scrambled up the stairs after her, pulling the carriage door closed.
“You know, Spike, you can stay if you want. I’ll be alright by myself.”
“I think I’m all partied out, tonight. I think I’ll enjoy a night off with my family.” Spike winked. He clawed his way up onto the seat beside Twilight, curling up amidst the excess fluff of her dress skirt.
She watched the building crawl by beneath the flurries of white. Through the row of glass windows, Twilight could see the crowds of her subjects enjoying their late-night entertainments. Couples sat together in restaurants. Families huddled together for warmth as they moved from shop to shop. Everywhere she looked she found content ponies.
“Still worried about what everyone will think?” Without opening his eyes, Spike had called her out perfectly.
“Yeah.”
“Stop.”
“It’s not that easy, Spike.”
“It’s not the first time a former villain has turned over a new leaf.”
“Yeah, but Chrysalis is different.”
“How so?”
“None of them have ever met Nightmare Moon. Sure, they know the stories, but only that small crowd in Ponyville saw her in her corporeal form, and that was only for a little while. Discord turned Ponyville into a palace of chaos, but he didn’t seriously hurt anyone or cause any lasting damage.
“But Chrysalis? Changelings invaded Canterlot. They stole ponies away from their families and took their places. They’re boogeymen. Every one of those ponies probably knows someone or knows of someone taken by changelings. I don’t think it’ll be as simple.”
“If anyone can convince them, I know it’s you, Twilight.”
Twilight patted Spike atop the head, causing the dragon to fidget. “Thanks, Spike.”
“It’s what I’m here for.”
“What about you? How do you feel about Chrysalis?”
Spike grinned mischievously as he sat up. “I think it could be pretty fun.”
“You’re not scared of her.”
“I am. But at the same time, both you and Thorax vouch for her. I’m willing to try to get along with her.” He frowned suddenly. “That said, she did call dragons nightmarish. On second thought, maybe I don’t like her.”
Twilight rolled her eyes, causing Spike to snicker. She invited him to lay down beside her, gently kneading his scales as they listened to the sound of crunching snow and wooden wheels rolling on cobblestone. By the time they reached the castle, Spike was already snoring.
Enamored by the adorable sight, Twilight loaded the dragon onto her back. A feat which required far more dexterity without magic. Eventually, she managed to secure him firmly before stepping out onto the sidewalk. She handed her fare over to the driver, who tipped her snowy cap to the Princess before racing off.
“Princess,” the guards greeted her as she stepped through the golden gates.
“Good evening, Sirs. Has anything happened while I was gone?”
“Nothing to report, Your Majesty.”
They unlatched the gate to allow her passage. Balancing Spike on her back, she crawled her way up the long staircase to the royal suites. She passed Shining Armor in the throne room, giving out orders to several armored stallions. The two siblings shared an enthusiastic grin before parting.
In the upper halls, she finally breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the cool shadows of her bedroom. She placed Spike gently onto the couch, draping him in a soft sheet. In his sleep, he curled beneath the blanket. As she watched the baby dragon’s chest rise and fall, she felt the familiar sting of her old life.
A soft knock at the door drew her attention from the sleeping babe. When she opened the door, she found an enthusiastic Cadence waiting for her.
“You’re back early,” she stated.
Twilight gestured for her to step back. The two of them continued their conversation out of earshot of any sleeping dragons.
“Yeah. I . . . wasn’t really feeling well.”
“Makes sense. After everything you’ve been through.”
“How’s Luna?”
Cadence grimaced. “Not great. She’s awake, but hardly coherent.”
“And Chrysalis?”
The pink princess scratched at her mane. “She went to speak with Thorax while you were gone. Then Pharynx showed up, too. I don’t think it went very well.”
Twilight snuck a peek at the next door down.
“Is she in there?”
“Yeah. She wanted me to send you in when you arrived. That was a few hours ago. I can’t guarantee she’s still awake, but . . .”
“I’ll talk to her.”
As Twilight turned to leave, Cadence stopped her.
“One other thing.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sending up Secretary Inkwell to meet with you.”
“What for?”
“If Luna isn’t able by tomorrow, then it falls to you to host the Royal Court.”
“The Royal Court? I never oversaw it before.” Twilight felt her heartbeat quicken.
“With both Celestia and Luna out, you’re the last princess here.”
“What about you?”
“I might be Celestia’s niece, but I’m also a foreign royal now, too.” Cadence explained. “Court nobles won’t take kindly to my appearance. I’ll still be there, though. As an advisor of sorts. So will Miss Inkwell and several other senior officials.”
“Couldn’t you have told me about this earlier? I would have prepared more.”
“That’s why I didn’t. I knew you’d freak out as soon as I told you. I thought you deserved a break first.” Her expression turned sullen. “Well, that and I hoped that Aunt Luna would be back on her hooves by now. And since that isn’t the case . . .”
“You still could’ve told me,” Twilight grumbled.
“I’ve done it before. It’s not too difficult. Just listen to some complaints from your subjects and get relevant information from your court. Then you make a decision.”
“No part of that sounds easy.”
“It is. I swear. And Miss Inkwell will be able to brief you on your cases for tomorrow. There’s only six of them.”
“Only six?”
“A few hours of work tops.”
“Are you trying to kill me, Cadence?”
“If I wanted to kill you, I’d poison your books.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes at Cadence while she tried in vain to hide an encroaching grin. The two broke into abrupt laughter.
“Can you help me out really quick?” Twilight inquired.
“What do you need?”
“Help me out of this dress. My magic still isn’t working.”
“Whoa, wait, when did your magic stop working?” She demanded, a little too loudly for Twilight’s taste.
“After we got back from the nightmare. I think I overexerted myself during my fight. I haven’t been able to summon my magic since. Look, it’s just simple burnout, okay? Can you help me out of this dress or not?”
Cadence ignited her horn, unzipping Twilight’s dress for her.
“Where did you get that dress? Also, is that your Element crown?”
“Do you like it? Rarity made it for me,” Twilight explained, gathering the pool of fabric from the floor. “She had the crown made, too. It’s just an imitation.”
“They’re beautiful. I might have to see about getting her to make me a dress before I head back to the Crystal Empire. Think I could convince her to open another shop up there?”
“You’d have to ask her yourself,” Twilight said.
Cadence departed with a zealous wave.
Twilight returned to her room, packing the dress neatly into her closet. She returned her tiara to its case and stashed it on the highest shelf she could reach. Ensuring both articles of clothing were secure, she sealed her closet up and tiptoed out for her late-night chat with Chrysalis.
“Who’s there?” Chrysalis called after a knock.
“Twilight.”
She heard a creaking mattress, followed by heavy hoofsteps. The door opened to let her inside. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the eerie shadows of the bedroom.
“I missed you.”
A dark shape melted over Twilight, the weight threatening to drag her to the ground.
“Hey, get off me,” Twilight shook, trying to remove the changeling.
“No.”
“Seriously, I’m going to—”
Twilight never finished her statement. Her legs finally buckled sending both careening toward the ground.
“Did you fall for me, Princess?” Chrysalis joked.
As they lay in a tangled heap, they shared an easy laugh.
“I did.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Not sure yet.”
Chrysalis pressed her lips against Twilight’s. A brief, but loving kiss.
“How about now?”
“I think you’re laying on my wing.”
Chrysalis rolled over onto her belly before rising. She brushed herself off and helped Twilight up. Though the changeling blended exceptionally into the dark, she could still see the silhouette of her partner.
“So, how was dinner?”
“Lonely.”
“Weren’t there seven of you?”
“Eight.”
“That’s even worse.”
Chrysalis dove into her bed. Though she tried to dance like an energetic foal, Twilight noticed her shortness of breath and slight hitches in her movement.
“Is everything alright?”
“It’s better with you here.”
“What’s better?”
She couldn’t see the changeling’s face, but she could hear the thoughtful silence.
“I’ve been doing a bit of thinking, Twilight.”
“Oh dear,” Twilight said sarcastically.
“I’m serious,” Chrysalis whined. “I have something I want to ask you.”
“I’m listening.”
“I want to . . .”
Chrysalis hesitated. The night’s events unfolded in her head. Her chat with Thorax, her meeting with Pharynx, her short spat with Cadence.
“You want to . . .”
“I want to repaint my room,” Chrysalis stuttered.
“What?”
“I want to . . . repaint my room,” she repeated.
“Why?”
“Either let me paint over that map or I’m burning this place down,” Chrysalis explained.
“That was the serious thing you wanted to ask me when we talked earlier?”
“Yup,” Chrysalis announced, too quickly for Twilight’s taste.
“Chrysalis? Are you lying to me?”
Her shallow defense cracked like thin porcelain. “Yes.”
“Tell me what you want to say.”
“I’ve been thinking. What will you do when all of this is over?”
“All of this as in . . .”
“When Celestia’s healed.”
“Making some assumptions, aren’t you?” Twilight admitted sorrowfully.
“Humor me.”
“I haven’t really given it much thought. I’ll probably go back to my castle in Ponyville. That’s how most of my adventures usually end.”
“What about us?”
“What about us?”
“Are we still together in this hypothetical fantasy of yours? Strolling down the streets of Ponyville hoof-in-hoof?”
“I think so,” Twilight climbed into bed beside her Queen. “What about you? What would you like to do?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice sounded hurt.
“Didn’t you say you were thinking about it? Would you like to stay with me?”
Chrysalis chuckled. “What would your ponies think if you showed up with me in tow? I think they’d probably riot on the spot.”
“Give them more credit than that.” Twilight tucked in close to her companion. Her warm fur met cold chitin.
“You know we wouldn’t have an easy life together, Twilight.”
The purple princess burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry,” she said after calming down. “In my dream, you said the exact same thing.”
“And what did you say?” Chrysalis wrapped her forelegs around the snuggling alicorn.
“Something about being thrown through a mountain by Tirek.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Chrysalis shook off her confusion. “You know, I really missed you tonight.”
“Aww,” Twilight cooed. She squeezed the changeling tight. Like a teddy bear.
“I imagine your friends didn’t take kindly to our . . . partnership?”
“It’s definitely weird for them.”
“Well, it’s weird for me, too,” Chrysalis sneered.
“It will be for a while. Until this becomes our new normal.”
“I lied again, Twilight. That wasn’t the question that I wanted to ask you.”
“I know. I thought you’d tell me when you’re ready.” Twilight faked an evil cackle.
“There’s something I wanted to try with you. But it got me thinking about us. I don’t know if I can —”
A knock. Another cursed knock.
“Princess Twilight?”
“We’re busy!” Chrysalis roared back.
“Princess? It’s Secretary Inkwell. Cadence sent me to brief you on your Royal Court cases for tomorrow.”
“I probably need to go do that.”
“What? But I just got you back.”
“I know. But a Princess’ work is never done, right?”
“I guess,” Chrysalis mourned.
“We can continue this discussion tomorrow. No more interruptions. I promise.”
Twilight unraveled herself from Chrysalis grasp. She hurled herself out of bed to join the mare waiting outside. She blew a goodnight kiss to Chrysalis before shutting the door and plunging her back into the darkness.
Chrysalis felt herself tremble. The scent of Twilight hung in the air. The maddening taste of love. Hunger clawed at Chrysalis.
I told you it would be like this.
“Shut up.” Chrysalis snarled at nothing.
Can you really live like this?
“I said shut up.”
You know what you have to do.
“Please. Stop. I don’t want to hear this.” Chrysalis’ eyes misted over.
You know.
Chrysalis tried to fight back, but the mantra only echoed louder in her head with each denial.
You know.
You know.
You know.
Chrysalis buried her head in her pillows and cried.
Twilight flipped to the next page of her book. She squinted at the fine print, vainly attempting to ward off the morning light. Stopping for a deep breath, she slammed the tome shut. The thick hardcover book bore the image of tilting scales against a blue background. The symbol of the equestrian merchants’ guilds.
“Princess Twilight? Are you awake?” Inkwell inquired.
“I am.”
The door shifted open, allowing the older unicorn inside. Her long brown mane had been tied up in a rather prim bun. A small blue pencil was tucked behind her ear.
“Have you been up all night, Princess?”
“No. Just thought I’d wake up early and do some light reading.” Twilight tapped the book on her desk.
“You might be the only pony I know that considers Equestrian tax code light reading. Regardless, the court should be arriving soon. I just thought I’d let you know.”
“You’ll be there, right?”
“Of course. Right at your side, Your Majesty.”
Inkwell vanished, just as quickly as she arrived.
Twilight turned the key on her lantern, extinguishing the pitiful flame inside. She stretched in her chair, her joints popping into place as her muscles flexed. Making her way over to the closet, she retrieved Rarity’s silver case and donned her tiara. Though Twilight hardly matched the regality of Celestia, she tried her best to style her mane and stand straight.
After making herself presentable, Twilight had a stop to make before her court appearance. She approached Chrysalis’ door, knocking softly on the hard wood. No response came. Twilight frowned, raising her hoof to knock again, but hesitated. Dawn had only just crested. Chrysalis deserved her sleep.
Swallowing her disappointment, Twilight started for the stairs to the throne room.
Before she hit the bottom step, Twilight could hear the conversations of the gathered nobles echoing through the alabaster hallways. Inside, a crowd of various, finely dressed stallions and mares had gathered in mobs around the hall. Only a few noticed when Twilight entered, bowing and drawing the attention of the others around them.
“Good Morning, Princess Twilight,” a green earth pony greeted her.
“We’ve been informed that you’ll be handling Princess Luna’s Court duties today. Has she fallen ill?” a unicorn mare inquired. Her dress had been fitted with enough gems to mimic one of Rarity’s designs.
“Good Morning to all of you,” Twilight announced, ascending to Celestia’s throne. The solar light streaming in from above caused the golden frame to ignite, spilling shimmering radiance across the platform. She stopped before the throne.
Inkwell appeared beside Twilight.
“Is something the matter, Princess?”
“This is Celestia’s throne.”
“It’s the Court’s throne, technically.”
“This feels wrong.”
“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable, Princess, but you must remember that we are to act as though nothing has happened. If we were to switch thrones, ponies might start asking questions.” She glanced out at the gathered mob. Specifically, she watched the journalists snapping pictures of Twilight.
“Right. Of course.”
“They’ll be watching you closely, Princess. We might be able to make the argument that you’re new to this, but we also risk making a fool of the court. Remember our conversation last night?”
She did remember the conversation. When Cadence explained that Twilight would be receiving a briefing, she expected files of her cases to review. While Inkwell had taken a moment to offer the broadest description, she spent far more time making sure Twilight knew the ins and outs of Court tradition.
“I remember.”
“Ultimately, the decision is yours, Princess. I can only tell you my suggestions.”
“Thank you, Inkwell.”
“Of course, Ma’am.”
Inkwell stepped down to one of the lower platforms on the wings of the throne pedestal, taking her place behind her desk. From inside, she retrieved a stack of parchment and a pen. She tested the writing instrument first before nodding to Twilight.
“I hope I’m not too late.” Cadence bounded up the steps to join Twilight at her throne.
“We were just about to get started.”
“How are your nerves?”
“I’ll give you two guesses.”
“That well, huh? For what it’s worth, you don’t look nervous.”
“No. It’s just that nervous is my default state,” Twilight noted.
“You’ll do fine, Twilight. Deep breaths.”
“Deep breaths. Yeah.” Twilight inhaled, holding one of her forelegs out in front of her. She held it for a moment, before exhaling and lowering her hoof.
“Better?” Cadence asked.
“A little.”
“Me and Secretary Inkwell are here to help. Don’t forget about that.”
“I know. Thanks.”
“And it looks like we’re not the only ones here to support you, either.” Cadence pointed toward the far edge of the room, where Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash were waving. From her vantage point, Twilight could see Fluttershy flat against the ground, hiding behind the others.
“Did you tell them?” Twilight wondered.
“Maybe.” Cadence grinned.
“Alright. Let’s get this show on the road.” Twilight cleared her voice before loudly declaring: “May I have everyone’s attention? It would seem most of the attendants are here, so I hereby declare the Royal Court of Princess Twilight Sparkle now in session.”
The members of the court bowed in unison to the throne before scattering to the edges of the room and into their smaller teams. A line of guards filed in through the large gate, forming a wall at the base of the throne. Twilight recognized Shining and several of his crystal guards in the formation. A hush fell over the room, awaiting Twilight’s command. Shining watched his little sister with a proud stoicism.
“Would the first case present itself?”
Out of the corner of Twilight’s eye, Inkwell nodded enthusiastically. Twilight had spent nearly an hour practicing that short speech in a mirror. The scribe immortalized Twilight’s words on her first empty page.
“I believe that’s me,” A tall, well-groomed stallion stepped forward. He moved with a confidence that suggested veterancy among the court nobles.
“State your name for the record.”
“Green Meadows, Your Majesty.”
“And for what reason do you approach the court?”
“I wish to request the court’s aid in settling a property dispute.”
Though she kept her royal mask tight, Twilight groaned internally.
This would be a long day.
“Sir Cot. In light of the extenuating circumstances, I will allow you a small sum of bit from the treasury. I will have a third-party inspector out to survey the damage and determine the cost of your ruined harvest. When this inspector returns to me with the price, your bits shall be levied. Do you find these terms acceptable?”
“Yes, Princess Twilight. Thank you.” The farmer bowed until his muzzle swept the red carpet beneath his hooves.
“Very well. Case number four dismissed.”
Twilight watched the earth stallion retreat from the chamber alongside one of the nobles to finalize the princess’ orders. Murmurs wound through the gathered nobles, too quiet for her to hear. She felt a sting of regret, though she didn’t know why.
“How was that?” Twilight whispered to Cadence.
“Excellent. Celestia would be proud.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
“Princess Twilight? Are you ready for the next case?” Inkwell asked.
“I am.”
She paused a moment, allowing her scribe to tuck her records into a binder before fetching a new, crisp stack to write on.
“Would the fifth case present itself?” Twilight’s voice echoed within the vaulted chambers.
A stocky white stallion approached the stand, removing his hat and pulling it tight to his chest. “My name is Mayor Snow. I’ve come here to represent my village and plead for aid from the Royal Court.”
“The Court hears your plea. What sort of aid do your people require?”
“Well, I was hoping you might lend us a few soldiers. About nine or ten would be ideal.”
The spark returned to Twilight’s eye.
“Soldiers?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He bowed reverently.
“For what purpose do you require soldiers?”
“Several ponies in my town have gone missing recently.”
“Start at the beginning, Mayor Snow. I wish to hear the whole story.”
“Well, my village is far to the north. It sits right on the border between Equestria and The Crystal Empire. We’re a small group. There are only about seventy of us staying in sturdy wooden cabins in the forest.
“As I said before, several ponies have gone missing recently. At first, it started with the more solitary of our folks. Those living alone on the edge of town. They’re known to be a bit flighty, so we simply thought that they just left some time during the night. But last week, one of my neighbor’s sons never returned from his hike in the forest.”
Twilight leaned forward, picturing the serene snowscape in her head.
“And you’re sure he isn’t simply lost in the woods?”
“We are. His family has lived in those woods for generations, and every single one of them is capable of navigating the place blindfolded.”
Whispers flooded through the onlookers. Several nobles watched sympathetically. Others simply appeared bored. Three of them were asleep.
“Do you have any ideas as to what might be taking your citizens?” Twilight questioned.
“There are . . . theories, Princess.”
“Such as?”
“Well, our first assumptions were based on rumors that Ursas were migrating north into our territory. We’ve launched several expeditions. None of them have recovered a trace of the creatures anywhere near our homes, so we’ve ruled that out.”
The mayor scratched at his beard as he thought.
“We have been known to have trouble with thugs and bandits in the past. Our community is small enough that some foolish ponies think we’re easy pickings.”
“Yet, you’ve ruled out these ruffians as well?” Twilight tilted her head, racking her mind for anything she had ever read or studied that might fit nicely into this puzzle.
“In the past, these thugs have tended to be rather . . . straightforward with their methods. A deception like this would be wholly new for them.”
“So not Ursas, not bandits. Anything else?”
“Well, the most popular theory circulating through the townsfolk is that . . . changelings could be behind it.”
He had the room’s attention now. Every noble stallion and mare in the chamber watched him with horrified expressions. A couple appeared angry at such a suggestion. If she were being honest, Twilight didn’t care much for such accusations either, but she swallowed her emotion.
“Changelings?”
“Indeed.”
Cadence stepped forward wearing a face of hardened stone. “Mayor Snow, might I remind you that both Equestria and The Crystal Empire have recently entered into a tenuous alliance with the Changeling Race. Such accusations should neither be made nor taken lightly.”
The mayor knelt, crushing his hat in his grip.
“Apologies. I didn’t mean to offend.”
“Surely you must have some evidence if you make a claim like that,” Twilight noted.
“A herd of changelings moved into our territory recently. At first, we didn’t mind. They kept to themselves and gave us no trouble, so we responded in kind. Then the disappearances started. Now you see the bugs more and more—”
“Bugs?” Twilight snapped.
Mayor Snow’s eyes widened in realization. A handful of shocked gasps emanated from the crowd. Twilight’s gaze turned to her friends in the back. They looked on with worried expressions.
“S- Sorry, Princess. I meant to say that the changelings’ behavior has changed recently.” He chuckled nervously.
“How so?” Twilight demanded, her tone a little more hostile.
“As I said, they generally kept to themselves. If you went out on an expedition, there was a decent chance you’d see one in the distance. But recently, they’ve started moving closer. If you step out into the woods, they watch you. The townsfolk are getting paranoid.”
“What about the guards you’re requesting? Are they to search for these missing ponies? Or would you have them drive the changelings away?” Twilight interrogated.
“Not exactly. Some folks have already decided the changelings’ guilt. Their voices get louder every day. It won’t be long before they go out looking for their own justice. Our security force is little more than a militia. I had hoped that the sight of a bona fide royal guard would bolster their spirits. Maybe make them feel a little safer. Once I’m sure my people won’t start an international incident, we can start to look into the missing ponies.”
“I see. A peacekeeping force.”
“Yes.” He nodded enthusiastically, letting loose a nervous chuckle.
“Inkwell?” Twilight turned to her scribe.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“What can you tell me about the state of our troops?”
“According to our latest reports, recruitment is high. The barracks are near capacity. We have the soldiers to spare, Princess.” She responded, loud enough only for Twilight to hear.
“Very well.”
She faced the crowd before answering.
“I’ve come to a decision.”
Every eye in the room stared in her direction.
“I will send a contingent of ten guards with you. These soldiers will be packed with enough supplies for a month. After that, if the situation has not changed, they will return. While there, they will be responsible for keeping the town safe. You are to remind your townsfolk to treat these soldiers with the same respect you’ve shown me. Are these terms to your liking?”
“Very much so, Your Majesty,” The poor mayor nearly collapsed from relief.
“Bear in mind, Mayor Snow, if I hear of any changelings attacked without cause, I have a hundred more soldiers at my command.”
“I understand, Princess. With these reinforcements, I should be able to keep the peace.”
“Then this case is dismissed.”
As the usual hushed roar of the crowd filled the chamber in response to her order. Twilight relaxed her shoulders, sinking back into her throne. She turned to Cadence seated beside her.
“So, how am I doing?”
Cadence didn’t answer. Instead, she kept her gaze locked on the distance. Intrigued, Twilight followed her gaze over to a guard, pacing nervously in the corner.
“Cadence?” Twilight asked a little louder.
“Yes?” Cadence finally snapped out of her trance. Even with her focus returned, though, it didn’t stop the look of worry etched into her face.
“What’s wrong?”
Suddenly aware of her expression, Cadence composed herself, returning to her normal, smiling self. “Nothing’s wrong, Twilight. You’re doing fine.”
“Then you’re just watching your guard with concern on your face because you’re . . . bored?”
Cadence groaned.
“Fine. You caught me. Think you can call a recess so we could talk for a moment?”
Twilight turned toward Inkwell. “Can I call a recess?”
The secretary nodded emphatically.
“Yes, I can call a recess,” Twilight explained.
“Good. I think there’s some trouble brewing. That’s Private Glaze. Remember him?”
“Yeah.”
“Princess, the next case is ready when you are,” one of her guards piped in.
“Actually . . .” Twilight cleared her throat. “I’ve decided that the Court should take a short recess before we move on to the next case.”
“Of course, Princess.” The guards carried her announcement to the rest of the crowd. She watched them disperse through the doors and scatter into the rest of the castle. A few remained behind, including Twilight friends and the concerned crystal pegasus.
“Any idea what he’s here for?” Twilight questioned as she and Cadence descended from their thrones.
“If I’m remembering correctly, he was assigned as Chrysalis’ escort for this afternoon.”
“You still have guards watching her?” Twilight moaned.
“They’re not keeping tabs on her. They’re not supposed to, anyways. I only assign them to her to help her if she needs anything. I thought that, given Quartz’s empathy, he’d do well in helping her.”
“Right.” Twilight nodded unenthusiastically.
Cadence’s face twisted into a pained frown. “Look, Twilight. I know I wasn’t exactly supportive of the two of you. I get that you’re still a little upset with me for that. But I’m trying. It’s not so simple for me to forget what she did.”
As Twilight and Cadence approached the guard, he bowed to both of them. He was practically quaking in his armored boots. Twilight’s friends had also joined them, looking concerned at the state of the soldier struggling to catch his breath.
“Private Quartz,” Cadence began, “I assume there’s a good explanation as to why you’re here instead of at your post?”
“I . . . she . . . there’s been . . . I don’t,” Glaze stammered incoherently between each gasping breath.
“Private Quartz, you are a royal soldier of the Crystal Empire. Get ahold of yourself and act like one. Take a breath and give a proper report,” Cadence commanded.
“I . . .” Quartz stopped, taking a deep breath to gather himself. “It’s Chrysalis. She hadn’t woken up all morning. I hadn’t heard anything either. So, I went to check on her using the emergency key. Just to make sure everything was alright.”
“They’re not keeping tabs on her, but they still have a key to her room?” Twilight glared at Cadence from the corner of her eye. The group ignored her interruption, unable to look away from the train wreck yammering before them.
“And?” Cadence prompted the soldier to continue.
“It’s . . . she . . .”
He growled angrily, straightening his shoulders and stilling his shaking form.
Cadence shut the door behind her. After double-checking the lock, she continued forward. Her husband waited for her in the hall ahead, his helmet cast off and laying nearby.
“Alright. Inkwell’s spread the word about our little break. We’ve got a little less than an hour before ponies start asking questions. Is everyone else already here?”
Shining’s horn flared to life as he swept his helmet off the floor.
“Thorax showed up a minute ago.”
“How’s he holding up?”
“Not well.”
“I see. What about Twilight?”
He slid the armor piece over his head. The light filtering in through the windows danced across the golden trim. A single tuft of his blue mane hung between his eyes.
“She’s . . . alright.”
“I guess that’s the best we can hope for, I guess. Let’s head in.”
Shining stepped aside, motioning for his wife to continue. She led them into the rounded chamber. Twilight and Thorax were inside, studying the map of Equestria forged onto the center pedestal. The two of them were placing miniature models of Canterlot soldiers around the landscape, marking the routes for scouting parties.
“Princess Cadence.” Thorax bowed slightly. “Glad you could join us.”
“Apologies. There were a few ends to tie up.”
“Then let’s get started.” Twilight cleared her throat. “First off. Have we successfully established that she is missing?”
“She is.” Shining stepped forward. “I’ve spoken with Private Glaze myself. He’s adamant that she never left her room. Also checked with the perimeter guards. They’ve got nothing either. We’ve got teams sweeping the castle to make sure, but I doubt they’ll find anything.”
“How did this happen?” Cadence demanded. “She can’t have just vanished.”
Thorax sighed. “Who’s to say? She’s been training generations of changelings to infiltrate cities for longer than any of us have even been alive. Magic or no magic, she’s not to be taken lightly.”
“It doesn’t matter how she escaped. She did. For now, the important part is finding her. Thorax, do you or your hive have any ideas?” Twilight asked.
“A few. Since we received the news, I’ve been in constant communication with my changelings. We’ve been sifting through some of our older memories. Using that information, we compiled a list of places where Chrysalis would be likely to hide.”
“That’s pretty impressive,” Cadence noted.
“Don’t congratulate me yet. It’s a very long list. Besides that, we’re not entirely sure she’ll be in any of them. She knows we’re looking for her. If she draws the same conclusions as us, she might avoid every place on the list.”
“It’s better than nothing.” Twilight shook her head.
“I can send scouts to these places to search,” Shining said.
“No need. I’ve already given the order to my changelings. If she’s there, they’ll find her.”
“What about her hive?” Twilight asked.
“What about it?” Cadence tilted her head slightly.
“Last night, she and I were talking.” Twilight turned toward the window, watching the highest towers of the castle as though they held the answer she sought. “She asked me what I wanted to do when all of this was over. I told her that I’d go home.”
“You think that’s what she did? Went home?” Shining questioned.
Thorax answered for her.
“It would make sense. After everything that happened last night, I could hardly blame her for wanting to go home. I had considered that. I planned on going to check on that lead myself.”
“Then you can come with us,” Twilight offered.
“Twilight?” Cadence asked, leaning away from the table.
“Shining Armor, I want you to find me the fastest pegasus team you have at your command. We can take the chariots out to the hive.”
“That’s a bad idea, Twilight,” Thorax interjected.
“I know it’s a long journey, but this isn’t the first time we’ve made it.” Twilight explained.
Thorax shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. By now, the dry season of the Badlands will have ended. You try to fly through one of those storms, it’ll tear you apart.”
“You have another suggestion?”
“Let me go.”
“How is that better?”
Thorax tapped his chitin plate. “Our armor’s tougher than it looks. We can handle extreme weather like that. It’s far less dangerous.”
“I’m not sitting this out, Thorax.”
“You might not have to.” Cadence interrupted. She turned to her husband, who prodded her onward with a nod. “Take one of the airships.”
Twilight turned to Shining. “Would that work?”
He shrugged. “Maybe not one of the luxury cruise ones. When I left, the guard had a few troop transports down at the docks. Those things are built for combat. Supposing you have an experienced crew, I can’t imagine a storm would bring one of those down.”
“Any other objections, Thorax?” Twilight asked.
“I’m not talking about just any storm here.”
“I know.” Shining shifted his helmet. “But these things are sturdy. They’re built to withstand a cannon barrage. They’ll hold together through almost anything.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Twilight demanded.
“Not so fast, Princess Twilight,” Cadence announced suddenly. “The airships are slow. There’s no way you’ll be back by the time your Court resumes.”
“We don’t have any time to waste, Cadence,” Twilight argued.
“These are your ponies, Twilight. They’re counting on you.”
“I know, but . . . ” Twilight frowned.
“I promised you that I wouldn’t give you any orders. If you’re determined to leave, I won’t stop you. You’ll have to deal with the consequences of that choice, though.”
Twilight squirmed under Cadence’s stern gaze.
“I know.” Twilight relented.
Shining Armor rounded the table, putting a comforting hoof on his sister’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Twilight. I’ll put my best on the case. You can count on them. I promise.”
“Thank you, Shining.”
Thorax started for the door. “I suppose I’d better start packing then.”
“I’ll have a team ready and waiting within the hour.” Shining nodded. He followed Thorax out, not bothering to close the door.
Cadence cast her eyes downward. “I’m sorry. I know being a princess isn’t the glamourous job most ponies think it is. You have to make a lot of tough decisions. Though I may not agree with you, I’ll support you in whatever decision you make. I owe you that much.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault. Besides, you’re right. What would Celestia say if I abandoned my royal duties for something as selfish as this.”
“I guess.” Cadence sighed. “I should probably head back to the throne room before Inkwell starts giving orders on our behalf.” She tried to chuckle at her own joke, but it rang hollow. On that somber note, she too left.
Twilight stayed behind in the meeting room to study the map. She examined the mountain edges, the slim curves of each shore, the little figures splayed across the map that represented the lives of dozens of her loyal subjects. Despite her best attempts to lose herself in the intricate details of the sculpture, she incessantly found herself drawn to the barren dirt of the Badlands.
“Twilight?”
She glanced upward. Applejack stood in the doorway.
“Did you need something, Applejack?”
The orange mare removed her hat. “I apologize if I’m interrupting something.”
“No. Just . . . thinking.”
“If you need some time, you’ve just got to ask. We’ll wait out here for you.” She turned to rejoin her party out in the hallway. Behind the earth pony, Twilight could see the rest of her friends gathered, discussing something in hushed whispers.
“No. I’m alright.” Twilight plastered on the most convincing smile she could manage as she followed Applejack out of the meeting hall. The other mares fell silent as she approached.
“Hey. Everything alright? Seems like you guys left the Court pretty suddenly,” Rainbow Dash pointed out.
“Yeah. There’s a small situation, but we’ve got it under control.”
“Chrysalis?” Fluttershy asked.
Twilight nodded.
“Did something happen to her?” Applejack inquired.
“No. She . . .” Twilight drew in a deep breath. “She left.”
“She what?” Rarity sputtered.
“She . . . left. Her room was empty this morning. We don’t know where she is. She left.” The words felt wrong on her tongue. “She left.”
“Oh, Darling.” Rarity rushed forward, throwing herself over Twilight in a fit of hysteria. “That’s just awful. How could she do such a thing?”
“I don’t know,” Twilight muttered. With a bit of effort, she slipped free from Rarity’s grasp. “Thorax is going to look for her. He’s already got his changelings searching.”
“You’re not going?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow.
“No. I’ve got a job here to do,” she said flatly.
“That’s mighty selfless of you, Twilight.” Applejack tipped her hat.
A new voice rang out.
“I think Celestia would be proud.”
The friends turned toward the entryway. There, flanked by a pair of her umbral guards, stood Princess Luna.
“Princess Luna?” Twilight asked, amazed.
“Girls, would you mind if I spoke privately with Twilight for a moment?”
The elder alicorn moved slow and spoke through gritted teeth, but she stood proud on her own four legs, her head held high.
“Of course, Princess.”
Twilight’s friends bowed as they retreated back into the throne room. With a gentle nod, Luna dismissed her own entourage as well. When they were alone, she finally addressed Twilight.
“It took me centuries to put the good of Equestria before my own. It is a burden I struggle with to this very day. But it always came naturally for Celestia. It would seem she passed that kind strength on to you.”
“What are you doing up?” Twilight scratched at her mane.
“It was the funniest thing. A group of guards informed me that they needed to search my quarters for a missing changeling. I must be honest; I was a little afraid to be left alone in my room all day with such a threat on the loose. I figured I would be safest in a room filled with ponies. And then it occurred to me: what better place is there than the Royal Court? There are always ponies watching the throne.”
Noticing Twilight’s concerned expression, Luna followed her overly dramatic speech with a hasty wink.
“Are you okay to be out of bed, Princess?” Twilight inched closer, unnerved by Luna’s unsteady gait.
Luna chuckled and waved her off. “I am. I understand your skepticism, but I assure you that Doctor Heart provided me with a clean bill of health.”
“Honestly, Princess, you don’t have to do this. I’m alright handling the Court for today. With all due respect, you look like you can hardly walk.”
Luna tapped her chin. “Did you do something to my throne?”
“N-No,” Twilight stammered.
“Well then I do not need to worry about walking, do I?”
“Luna . . .”
The older alicorn sighed in defeat, her features darkening.
“Twilight, I want you to listen to me. I know I have been . . . difficult these last few days. There is nothing I can say or do that warrants forgiveness for my actions.”
The younger alicorn opened her mouth to argue, but Luna continued unimpeded.
“But I think I finally understand what you saw in Chrysalis. Celestia had faith in you. She trusted you, no matter how dire the situation. I should have given you the same consideration. Instead, I endangered your life and the lives of others. I have been a terrible ruler and an even worse mentor. I promise you that I will answer for this. Until then, allow me to give you this small comfort.
“Go to her, Twilight. Show her that she does have a home here.”
Twilight searched for any excuse to stay behind. Luna needed her. The Court would realize something strange afoot if Luna suddenly returned. She even argued that Chrysalis probably didn’t want to see her anyway after leaving her alone last night.
“Princess Luna . . .”
She heard none of those thoughts, though. Instead, only a single one occupied her focus:
Twilight hauled her saddlebag onto her back. The overstuffed packs hung on either side, heavy enough to crush a lesser pony. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Twilight tried to focus her magic, only for her spell to fizzle. She settled for adjusting the buckles manually.
Adjusting to her new weight quickly, she rushed out of her room, heading down past the throne room. Through the sealed door, she could hear the Court in session. An older sounding stallion pleaded their case. Another land dispute, of course. An enthusiastic Luna interrogated each involved party.
As she stepped away from the door, Twilight chuckled. At the very least she seemed to be enjoying herself. Her path took her deeper into the castle, down into the barracks. Off-duty guards scrambled to make themselves presentable as they waited for their shifts. Twilight hurried by with half-formed greetings.
From the barracks, she escaped the cramped stone halls out into the fields where the soldiers trained. The sounds of clashing metal and commanding drill sergeants assaulted her as she crossed over to the glorified warehouse that constituted the dock’s command center. A squad of soldiers was gathered outside, standing firm beneath the scrutinizing eye of Captain Shining Armor.
“Shiny!” Twilight exclaimed, galloping to her brother’s side.
“Twilight?” Shining blinked. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be at the court?”
“Luna took over.”
Twilight studied the gathered army. Half a dozen Canterlot guards stood proud in their gold suits. The other half were clad in the cool blue steel of the Crystal Empire. She recognized Captain Shield, Private Glaze, and Lieutenant Diamond among the ranks.
Beyond them, a ship floated at the end of the pier. Twilight had seen naval ships before. Heavy structures formed of metal and wood meant to travel across the waves. The airship looked similar, aside from the balloons taking the place of the sails. The ship’s overall size dwarfed the warehouse beside it.
“Right. Just going over a final inspection before takeoff.” Shining turned toward his soldiers. “And as for all of you . . . listen up. There’s been a slight change of plans. You are going to be joined by a Princess. More importantly, that princess is my sister, Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
Shining gestured toward his sister.
“The goal of your mission remains unchanged. I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. If I hear anything but the highest praise about any of you, I’ll have you digging latrines at every military installation from here to Griffinstone. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” The guards saluted in perfect unison.
“Good. I want this bucket ready to set sail A-S-A-P. Get moving.”
“Sir.”
The column of soldiers turned and marched up the gangplank onto the airship moored at the end of the docks.
“Digging latrines?” Twilight asked.
“It was the best I could think of on short notice.” Shining shrugged.
Twilight wrinkled her muzzle. “Do you even have the authority to reassign Canterlot guards?”
Shining tapped his chin. “Technically, no. However, I am a close relative of all three Equestrian princesses. Besides that, I’ve still got plenty of friends in the Guard’s command. I might not be able to reassign them, but I can pull some rather unpleasant strings.”
“Impressive,” Twilight said.
“Twilight?”
The two ponies shifted their focus to the approaching changeling.
“Thorax. Luna’s taken over at the Court, so I’ll be accompanying you to search for Chrysalis,” Twilight explained.
“Glad to have you aboard. I’m not sure your soldiers would’ve taken kindly to my company.” Thorax scratched behind his ear, chuckling quietly.
“You don’t need to worry. They know better than to let their personal feelings jeopardize the mission.” Shining summoned a proud grin.
“Anything else we should know?” Twilight asked.
Shining nodded. “I’ve put Captain Shield in charge of this operation. I believe the two of you have already met. He’ll handle any issues with the ship itself. Thorax, our navigators have rough coordinates of the hive, but they might need a hand once you get close.”
“Got it.” Thorax nodded.
Shining glanced at the reinforced hull of their ship, shining in the afternoon sun. “This model is slower, but the armor should hold through almost anything.”
“What about the balloons?” Thorax asked.
“Special blend of materials with magical reinforcement. It’s light, but far sturdier than it looks.”
“Right,” Thorax nodded slowly, unconvinced.
“I’ve ridden these into battle before. Trust me, it can take a beating.”
“We’ll trust you on that.” Twilight tapped Thorax on the shoulder. “Everyone else is already aboard. We really should join them.”
“Right. Shining Armor?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve explicitly instructed my changelings that they can rely on you if they need anything. In return, I’ve given you authority over them if something happens. I trust you’ll treat them fairly.”
“Of course.”
“Then let’s get going. There’s no time to waste.”
The two of them started toward the ship. As they stepped out onto the pier, the cliffs beneath them faded. The wooden path continued, held up by its own strength. Twilight dared to peek over the edge. Miles below, fog rose from a lake in the center of a forest. The few unicorn instincts she had left screamed at her to retreat to solid ground. Her sore wings fluttered on their own, as if to remind her of their existence.
They climbed up onto the ship. Two of the guards waiting at the edge withdrew the plank. Several pegasus dock workers removed the moorings holding them in place. Beneath the deck, the engines roared to life. A wave of heat poured from the ship as it lurched forward.
Twilight bit the hardened edge of her hoof as the floor tilted beneath her.
The ship pulled away from the docks and into the open air, ringing with a groan of wood. Shining stood at the edge of the cliffs, waving to his sister until he slipped out of sight and they rose into the clouds.
Soon enough, the entirety of Canterlot vanished into the mist. From the deck, only the snowy peak of the mountains remained visible. Several guards remained on high alert, stationed around the edges of the ship to keep watch. Thorax retreated to a room below deck, leaving Twilight alone with her thoughts as she watched Equestria roll by far below.
Lost in her trance, Twilight didn’t notice Dusti Diamond and Quartz Glaze flank her. “Heck of a view, huh?” Quartz asked, leaning against the ship’s rail.
“A little worrying,” Twilight said without taking her eyes off the drop.
Dusti sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall nearby.
“Why are you worried? You can fly.”
“I know, but a new pair of wings doesn’t stop a lifetime of being terrified of heights.” Twilight’s wings fluttered.
“That’s right. I forgot about that. You used to be a unicorn, right?” Quartz tapped at his forehead, right where a unicorn’s horn would be.
“Yes.”
“That’s got to be weird. Learning to fly as an adult, I mean. Most pegasi can fly by the time they get their mark. Must be strange to just have these new wings.”
“Compared to magic?” Dusti interrupted. “Learning spells is a lot harder than just flapping wings.”
“Come on, Lieutenant, you know there’s more to flying than just ‘flapping wings’,” Quartz whined, swinging a foreleg wildly through the air.
“Look, I know you guys want to help, but I’d kind of like to be alone right now.” Twilight stepped away from the duo.
“S-Sorry. We didn’t mean to intrude, Princess.” Dusti’s eyes widened.
“We can leave,” Quartz offered, scratching at his mane.
“No. I’m just not feeling all that well at the moment. I think I’m just going to head down to one of the cabins. See if I can get some rest before we arrive.”
“If you need anything, you . . . know where to find us,” Quartz said, turning away embarrassed.
Twilight headed for the wheelhouse of the ship, leaving the two soldiers behind. She bit her lip, trying not to smile at the sound of Dusti berating her underling for bothering the princess. Glaze didn’t seem to mind, letting her rant and rave to her heart’s content without a word of reproach.
She pulled the door open, revealing a small room lined with glass windows. Captain Shield stood at the wheel, adjusting their course slightly according to the instruments spread across the dashboard.
“Evening, Captain.”
“Princess.” He nodded in her direction.
“Thorax come this way?”
“Yeah. He went down a little while ago. I assigned him the cabin at the end of the hall on the right.”
“What about me? Which one’s mine?”
“Captain’s Quarters are reserved for your use. Biggest room on the ship. It’s the only one down there with double doors.”
“Thanks, Captain.”
“Of course, Princess.”
She made for the back of the wheelhouse. A thin wooden staircase led down onto the lower deck. With her airship experience limited to luxury cruises, Twilight felt claustrophobic within the dark wooden belly of the transport. Dozens of cheap oak doors lined either side of the hall. At the end of the hallway, a set of double doors was marked with the seal of the Equestrian military. Several brass lanterns hung on metal hooks, their flames flickering curiously.
As she continued on toward her cabin, Twilight stopped at the last door before her own, listening. No sound emanated from the room, but a light shone through the crack at the bottom of the frame. She considered knocking but decided against it. Instead, she heaved open her cabin doors and stepped inside.
Despite Captain Shield’s description, Twilight felt underwhelmed at the sparse furnishings of her room. A single bed sat against the right wall, complete with a blue rug and uneven side table. Another door at the back of the room led out onto a small balcony, just large enough for a pony to stand on. A desk sat below the windows, adorned with a single bronze candlestick.
Swallowing her disappointment, Twilight dragged herself over to the edge of the bed and crashed. In her attempt to sprawl out, she nearly rolled off the other side. The mattress felt lumpy, and the sheets scratchy. Her pillow might as well have been a concrete slab.
Nevertheless, Twilight sank into the bed and closed her eyes. In the darkness, she could feel the floor shifting beneath her, rocking back and forth gently in the breeze. After nearly an hour of disorientation, she finally understood her older sibling’s distaste of flying.
More than discomfort kept Twilight firmly in the realm of consciousness, though. With her mind left to wander, it found its way to Chrysalis. She thought of last night. Of their conversation. Of the way Chrysalis held her. Of the soft, lush sheets on her bed.
She would give her kingdom just to experience a single one of those.
Twilight sat up, burying her face in her hooves. With a tired exhale, she rose from her bed. Outside, the sun crawled behind the horizon. She slipped through her door back into the hallway. This time, she didn’t stop herself from knocking on Thorax’s door.
“Come on in,” his voice called out.
Twilight stepped inside, letting her mouth fall open at the sight.
“This is your room?” she asked.
The dimensions of the room barely mustered a quarter of Twilight’s. Aside from the cot in the middle of the floor and a window on the wall, the room was empty. Thorax lay on his bed, stretched out as far as he could.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“You want mine? It’s bigger. And I can’t sleep anyway.”
“Believe it or not, I kind of like the smaller room. Product of growing up underground.”
“That’s fair.”
Thorax rolled over to face Twilight. At the sight of her sour expression, his own followed suit. “Can I help you with something?”
“Yes. I want to talk.”
“What about?”
“You know . . .” Twilight shrugged. “Just a chat.”
“Right. I don’t think any conversation with you is ‘just a chat’, Twilight.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t sleep.”
“Is it the ship rocking?”
“That’s . . . part of it.”
“You’re thinking about Chrysalis, aren’t you?”
Twilight answered with silence.
“Me too.”
The changeling climbed out of bed. Together, he and Twilight returned to the upper deck. The stars appeared overhead as the last vestiges of the sun’s fading glow lit the sky ablaze. They moved toward the bow of the ship, away from any sentries.
“Do you think she’ll come back?” Twilight asked.
Thorax sighed. “I don’t know.”
“I should have seen it, Thorax.”
“Seen what?”
“Last night. I should have seen how upset she was. Instead, I blew her off to go hang out with my friends. Then again to deal with stupid Royal Court duties. I don’t even know what she wanted to ask me. I never let her ask.”
“If it’s any consolation, you shouldn’t blame yourself for it. When she came to talk to me, she ran into Pharynx and a few other changelings. It wasn’t pretty.”
Twilight scoffed, ignoring the mist clouding her eyes. “No wonder she ran.”
“We’ll get her back, Twilight.”
The ship bucked as a puff of hot air ripped through from the engines.
“What did you talk about? When she came to your room.”
“She said she’d been thinking. About what to do when all of this was over.”
“You too, huh?”
“She asked me . . . she asked me why I left.”
Thorax released his grip on the banister, pressing his back to the rail and sliding down until he collided with the deck.
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth.”
“Is the story you told us the truth? About your revelations during the Canterlot invasion?”
“That . . . wasn’t a lie. It was just the final nail in the coffin.”
Somewhere in the clouds below, a bird screeched.
“Was she always like this?”
“Depends what you mean by ‘this’?”
“You know. She’s a little . . .” Twilight juggled her response in her head, searching desperately for the right words.
“Monstrous?” he suggested.
She opened her mouth to refute him, but no other word seemed to fit the question better.
“Yes,” Twilight whispered.
“No.” He studied the stained wood beneath his hooves.
“What was she like?”
“Don’t get me wrong. She’s always had a mean streak. You can’t really blame her for that, though.”
“Why not?”
Thorax swayed his head back and forth. “To survive as a changeling – and even more importantly as a queen – you have to have a sort of inherent cruelty.”
Twilight scrunched her muzzle. “You don’t.”
Thorax chuckled. “I’m an outlier, Twilight. When I was born, I refused to feed off another creature. Because of that, the Broodmothers recommended letting me starve.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Against their advice, Chrysalis took care of me personally. She let me feed off of her own life energy. As I grew older, she couldn’t keep protecting me. I learned to live with what I had to do. Don’t treat me like I’m some sort of saint, Twilight. I’ve committed my fair share of sins.”
“You proved there was another way.”
He shook his head slowly. “You don’t get it, Twilight. Imagine every time you’ve ever felt hungry in your life. What if every meal, you sat down and listened while your meal pleaded with you not to hurt it? To let it go home to be with its loved ones. You either give in to hunger, or you starve.”
“I . . . never thought of it that way.”
“So yeah. Chrysalis has always had a mean streak. Every changeling needs one to survive. But even that isn’t enough sometimes. The more the hive grew, the more love we needed. One day, that desperation finally hit its limit. The hive changed. Chrysalis changed.”
“What happened?”
Thorax scratched at the floor beside him, avoiding Twilight’s anxious stare.
I craned my neck up at the nexus of the hive. Drones buzzed to-and-fro, pumping through the veins that riddled the mountain. Some carried packages. Others carried weapons. A few carried nothing but their increasingly emaciated frames. A cacophonous orchestra of buzzing wings echoed endlessly through the tunnels. I waited for a break in the stream to butt in, following my brothers and sisters deeper into the bowels of the earth.
The cramped tunnels twisted and curled through the stone. Though my vision cut flawlessly through the darkness, it didn’t change the solid mass of grey that met me at every turn. Instead, I let my mind wander, allowing my instincts to draw me toward the heart of the hive.
Eventually, I found myself in another tunnel, distinguished from its countless counterparts by a large set of oak double doors at the mouth. Shards of the green crystals scattered about the walls had been arranged into a mosaic of the lonely stone spire that we called home.
Two drones stood guard on either side of the doors. Both easily stood a head taller than me. Their reinforced chitin marked them as Brutes.
“I’m here to see the Queen,” I explained.
Wordlessly, they stepped back, propping open the door long enough for me to squeeze through. As I entered, they called out to Chrysalis. “Drone I – six – two – nine – five to see you, My Queen,” before closing me into the hall.
Chrysalis’ dark shell blended with the stone of her seat. She lay on her stomach, watching me, her head tilted in curiosity. Two more guards stood on either side of her throne. Another pair waited at the base of the steps. Their glances were far less kind. I stopped just before the red carpet that unrolled from her pedestal.
“My Queen.” I bowed.
“Welcome home,” she said, propping her head up with one of her arms. The other hung loosely from the edge of her seat. “You have a report for me, I assume?”
“Yes, My Queen. The infiltration was successful.”
“Good.” She licked her lips and smiled. “What of the love you obtained.”
“I passed it along to the Broodmothers.”
She frowned. Luckily for me, not her usual, angry frown that sent shivers down my spine. Rather, it reminded me of a child being denied their favorite treat.
“I’m sorry to say that my target will be of no more use to us. I’m afraid too many feedings made her paranoid. There are other agents nearby, and I didn’t want to risk an incident.”
“A shame.” She sighed. “But you made the right choice.”
“Thank you, My Queen.” I bowed again, feeling heat rise through my cheeks.
“Thorax.”
I froze. I think my heart stopped momentarily. I slowly raised my head to meet her gaze.
“Y-Yes, Queen Chrysalis?”
“Would you mind staying for a little while? There are a few matters I’d like your opinion on.”
“Of course.”
She beckoned me forward. With careful steps, I climbed toward the throne. The guards watched me, hunger in their eyes. As I approached, the queen directed me toward the foot of her chair.
“Sit,” she commanded.
I obeyed, making sure to keep my back straight and posture crisp as I found a comfortable place on the stone to rest. Once I was in position, she continued.
“Anything interesting happen on your assignment?”
“Depends on what you mean by interesting?”
She shrugged. “Is there anything happening in Equestria? I've been a little . . . preoccupied lately.” Her hind legs shifted slightly. “I haven’t been able to keep up with any new reports.”
“Well. I heard some interesting rumors. That’s all they are, though. From what I can tell, Equestria has been peaceful. At least, the little corner of it I lived in.”
“Do any of these rumors warrant a closer look?” she asked.
I let my mouth hang open for a moment. “I did hear one thing that might interest you.”
“Tell me.”
“One of my neighbors was obsessed with a pony named Nightmare Moon.”
“Nightmare Moon?” She rolled her eyes. “These ponies have such ridiculous names. So, who is this . . . Nightmare Moon?”
“I couldn’t say for sure, but she seems important.”
“I see.” Chrysalis nodded. “Well, I suppose it might be something to look into. Anything else?”
I coughed. “N-Not really. Like I said, things have been pretty peaceful these past few months.” I averted my eyes, tapping my hoof against the rock.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I’ve been?” Chrysalis leaned toward me.
“O-O-Of course. How have you been, Qu-Queen Chrysalis?” I sputtered.
She sank back into her throne, content.
“I thought you’d never ask. We’ve had a few changes since you left. We just finished digging out a new nursery down in chamber thirty-six. Several new Broodmothers have been assigned to it. I’m decently proud of it, if I do say so myself.”
“Impressive, Queen Chrysalis.”
“Thank you.” She flipped her mane overdramatically. “Actually, that’s sort of what I wanted to speak with you about. You see—”
Shouts from outside interrupted our conversation. The guards tensed, drawing their weapons. The two on the raised platform with us stepped between Chrysalis and the approaching cacophony. The chamber doors flew open. A dozen of the brutish soldier drones poured in. I could hear the sound of metal scraping against the earth.
“What is the meaning of this?” Chrysalis demanded, climbing to her hooves.
In response, one of the drones pushed to the front of the pack. The chitinous fringes on his chin and scalp marked him as the leader of this particular squadron.
“Queen Chrysalis, we’ve captured two ponies who made their way into our territory.” The captain nodded to his underlings. The crowd split to reveal the two ponies, an older blue stallion and his pretty pink mare. Both of them were bound with a black, tar-like substance, save for the chained collar around their necks. One of the drones dragged them forward into the Great Hall.
As she descended toward the captives, Chrysalis studied them. The stallion struggled against his restraints. The mare, however, lay still. She watched her captors with wide, terrified eyes while her body quaked.
“Trespassers, is it? Well, I hope the two of you have a good explanation as for why you’re here in my domain unannounced,” Chrysalis explained, her voice quiet.
For the first time, the stallion looked up at her. Even from my roost, I could see the color drain from his face. I couldn’t blame him. Just as the brutes towered over the ponies, Chrysalis towered over her brutes. To the two lying on the floor, she must have loomed as large as the mountain itself.
At Chrysalis’ approach, the flock of drones parted silently. Her magic caressed the unfortunate stallion’s chin, lifting his head and forcing him to meet her gaze.
“Did you not hear me?” The ethereal emerald haze lifted the stallion from the earth, holding him eye-level with her.
“W-W-We weren’t trespassing,” he stammered.
Chrysalis recoiled, feigning surprise.
“Oh, you weren’t? Well, there must have been some mistake then. I’m so sorry about this.”
I watched the tiniest flicker of hope ignite in his stare. I lowered my own, tracing a colored line in the rock beneath me. I heard the sound of flesh connecting with rock as she slammed the prisoner back down onto the floor.
“Go,” Chrysalis commanded. “Make sure they were alone.”
Bowing in unison, the soldiers crept back out the door, eager to escape the show. To my surprise, even the drones guarding her royal pedestal fled. I rose, keeping my head low as I followed the guards.
“Thorax.”
I stumbled.
“Yes, My Queen?”
“You will stay here until our conversation is done.”
“Yes, My Queen.”
My thoughts waged war against my instincts, locking me in position at the bottom of the throne’s steps. I watched the hall doors close, their heavy frames reverberating through the stone.
“Now we can speak privately.” Chrysalis returned her focus to her newest toys. “Stand.”
Neither of the ponies moved.
Chrysalis snarled. “I told you to stand.” Her horn flared with magic, pulling the chains high into the air and dragging the ponies to their hooves.
“I don’t understand why you’re so insistent on making this difficult.”
There, hanging from the shackles by her neck, the mare finally found her voice.
“We didn’t mean any harm. We were lost. Please don’t hurt us.”
Chrysalis’ magic faded, letting their chains drop with them.
“Thorax?”
I snapped to attention.
“What do you think should be done with them?”
I gave as innocent a look as I could.
“It’s clearly a mistake, My Queen. Allow me to handle this. I’ll make sure she makes it home in one piece.”
The captives exchanged confused looks. The wicked smile on Chrysalis’ face told me she understood the truth behind my words.
“Always such a kind young man, aren’t you, Thorax?”
I bowed. “I try my best, My Queen.”
“However, I think they must repay the hive first for their transgressions.”
“Oh?”
A viridian pillar erupted around Chrysalis, causing the shadows on the wall to dance in eager anticipation. As the flames fizzled out, the captive mare screamed, horrified by the sight of herself standing where the queen had been only moments ago. The doppelganger’s eyes flashed green.
“Join me, my love,” Chrysalis cooed, reaching toward the stallion with a gentle touch. He fought valiantly, but the moment their eyes locked, his resistance shattered. Chrysalis’ magic flashed, tearing the bonds from him. Ignorant of his lover’s cries, he rose, staggering forward like a drunkard.
“Sweetie? I had the most terrible dream . . .” he muttered.
“It’s alright. It was just a dream,” Chrysalis beckoned him forward.
He approached, nuzzling her affectionately.
The mare screamed his name, but he didn’t react to her voice. I stepped back, eager to put distance between myself and the scene playing out before me.
“I was so scared.”
Chrysalis shushed him, returning his affection with a gentle embrace, though her gaze met the terrified mare still bound in her restraints. “Honey, do you love me?”
“Of course,” he said.
Chrysalis waited for the mare’s pleas to melt into sobbing before continuing. “Then kiss me, Darling.”
He closed his eyes, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against Chrysalis’. I could feel the energy radiate through the room. A green mist enveloped the two, whirling around the transformed changeling. Their locking lips didn’t break until they struggled for breath.
“Is something wrong, Sweetie?” the stallion asked.
“Would you do something for me?”
“Ask for the moon . . .” he chuckled.
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Will you stay here with me. We can make a new home, here.”
“I would never leave your side. You know that.”
“I hoped you’d say that. There’s someone waiting for you outside. Go to him. If you really love me, you’ll do whatever he tells you.”
“O-Of course, Dear. I love you.”
The moment Chrysalis released him, the pony turned toward the door. He rushed outside, eager to please. Even as he vanished into the dark, a wisp of green still radiated from him.
“What did you do to him?” The mare cried out.
“I didn’t do anything to him,” Chrysalis answered in the mare’s own voice, laden with a sarcastic sorrow. “I simply made him realize what he’s wanted all along.”
“Please don’t hurt him. I’ll do anything you want.”
Chrysalis’ laugh echoed through the hall.
“I know you will, Darling.” Her forked tongue licked her pale pink lips. “But it’s not me you’ll have to please.”
“W-What?”
“Thorax?”
“Yes, Chrysalis?”
“You’ve been such a good boy. I think you deserve a reward.”
“A . . . reward?”
“I have plans for her. But for now, she’s yours. Do what you will with her.”
The mare turned to me, her terrified eyes cutting right through me. I backed away.
“I-I don’t deserve such a fine gift, Queen Chrysalis.”
“That’s for me to decide, isn’t it?”
“My Queen—”
“If you really don’t want her,” Chrysalis began, turning her back to me and the prisoner, “I suppose my guards could always use another meal. They don’t get nice things very often. They tend to be rather . . . rough with my gifts.”
The mare whimpered.
“This is such a nice gift. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. Just enjoy it.”
I moved closer to the trembling pony as gently as I could. She tried to retreat from me, but her binds kept her still.
“I’ll make it quick,” I whispered. “It won’t be anything but a bad dream.”
She closed her eyes, freeing me from their accusing glare. Of course, that only brought about a sudden flood of guilt. I drew the energy from her as quickly as I could, though I made sure not to hurt her. Despite the hatred I felt for myself, the undeniable ecstasy of feeding overwhelmed me. I silently cursed my anatomy.
My senses burst from their haze. I reeled back, severing the mystical connection between the two of us. The color had begun to drain from the mare’s face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
The mare’s eyes didn’t open, but her chest still rose and fell with each breath.
“How do you feel?”
“What?” I turned toward my queen, now returned to her throne.
“How do you feel?” she repeated.
“I . . . I’m alright.”
The sweet tang of love still colored my lips.
“Good.”
I motioned toward the unconscious pony. “What about her?”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
On cue, one of the guards returned, lifting the mare onto his broad shoulders.
“Take her down to M – one – three. She’s been waiting long enough. And take him to M – zero – nine,” Chrysalis ordered. The guard carried the pony off deeper into the hive.
Feeling sure we were alone, I approached the base of Chrysalis’ throne. “He’s taking her to one of the Mothers? Why?”
“M – one – three has been . . . vocal about an experiment she’d like to try. She’s been asking for a mare. Even if that doesn’t work out, she could use the sustenance,” Chrysalis said, waving me off with a hoof.
“I thought we were going to use them for infiltration.”
“Things have changed since you left, Thorax.” The room stayed silent for nearly a minute before she continued. “Is this a problem?”
“No, Your Majesty. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be taking my leave. I’ve had a rather long trip.” I bowed before turning to leave.
Thorax!
My legs locked in place at the sound of her silent voice.
Look at me, Thorax . . .
I ground my teeth, but my body turned to face her.
Speak . . .
Her voice stormed through my head, knocking my thoughts aside. I clenched my teeth as red-hot pain seared through my mind.
“Thorax?”
The agony subsided. I looked up at my Queen expecting fury. She stood tall as she stalked forward. A predator, perfect in every sense of the word.
Then I noticed the softness in her eyes. Against my better judgment, my words started to flow.
“What are you planning to do with those two?” I asked, my tone far more demanding than I meant it to be. I chalked it up to the echoing throb left in my head, rather than the boiling anger in my chest.
“They will serve the hive. The same as the rest of their kind.”
“Since when do we take prisoners?”
“As I said, many things have changed since you left.”
“This is . . . wrong.”
Chrysalis reached for me, and I pulled away. I let my defiance ring through the vaulted arches.
“There is something I need to show you,” the sadness in her voice caught me off guard, extinguishing my anger almost immediately.
“Fine,” I relented.
She led me to the back of the hall, behind her throne. In the back of the raised platform, a tunnel led down deep into the earth.
“Follow me.”
She stepped into the darkness; the tunnel just tall enough for her to keep her head up. I followed. Though the stairs themselves were pitch black, I could see a light at the end of the tunnel.
“Where are we going, Chrysalis?” My voice had already lost its hard edge.
“My chambers. As I said, there is something you need to see.”
Every changeling knew only two types of drones were allowed in Chrysalis chambers. I certainly didn’t belong in the first group, and I wouldn’t live long enough to know if I belonged in the second. Bracing, I stepped into the spider’s web.
We stepped into the admittedly small room. A lavish bed sat in the center, fitted with various sheets and dark pillows. A few sparse shelves lined the edges, along with a painting. A trophy from a former conquest, if I had to guess. I didn’t recognize the castle it depicted.
She didn’t linger, vanishing through an archway at the back of the room. I kept close.
Rough-hewn stone walls surrounded us, protruding with raw chunks of the glowing green gems. The omnipresent black and green strands that decorated the rest of the hive were present here, too. A dense cloud of steam filled the room, though I couldn’t locate the source.
“What is this?” I asked.
“You don’t recognize it?” She almost sounded disappointed.
“No.” Truthfully, I did recognize it. At least, I had at one point. I’d been here before, though I couldn’t say precisely when.
“Tell me what you see here.”
She stepped aside, allowing me access to the full room. I found little more than bare stone.
“Am I looking for something in particular?” I asked.
“At the back of the room.”
The chitin on the back of my neck bristled, but I ignored it. Stepping past her, I renewed my search. To my surprise, I did see something back there hidden in the mist. I moved closer for a better look.
In the back of the room, held tight in black webbing, small white orbs were gathered in groups. At first, I thought they were some sort of colossal pearls. A treasury, maybe. On closer inspection, I recognized the items.
“A nursery,” I realized.
“Yes.”
“Are these . . . yours?”
“Yes.”
A sense of awe washed over me.
And then I realized what I had been nagging at me. These clutches only took up the back quarter of the room. I turned to Chrysalis.
“Where are the rest of them?”
She didn’t answer.
“Is this what you wanted me to see?”
Still nothing.
“I . . . I didn’t realize things were so . . . I’ll . . . I’ll bring back as much love as I can when I return.”
“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that, Thorax.”
I turned slowly. “What do you mean?”
Chrysalis kept her gaze locked on the eggs.
“We can’t simply wait and hope our Infiltrators bring back enough love. The hive won’t survive long enough for that to matter.”
“Then what do we do?” I asked.
A blaze ignited in her eyes.
“Whatever it takes. I’ve put plans into motion. No matter what, I won’t let my hive fall.”
She started for the exit, leaving me standing among my unborn kin.
“What sort of plans?”
“Invasion.”
“Invasion?” I nearly choked on the word.
“You’re going back to Canterlot.”
“No. There has to be another way.”
“I’ve made my decision.”
Her voice took on a hard edge.
I lowered my head. She stopped at the threshold of the room.
“Thorax?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“There were thirty-two.”
“What?”
“Eggs. There were thirty-two of them in this clutch.”
I only counted twenty-six.
“Where are the other six?” I asked, dread mounting.
Thorax stayed frozen as he finished, watching the years race by before his eyes.
“And you know the rest of the story. I couldn’t stop her from invading Canterlot. We spent a lot of resources we didn’t have to make it as far as we did. When we were driven back . . . well, that was the end.”
“The end?” Twilight asked.
“Yeah. I saw you and your friends fighting against the swarm. When I felt that true love and friendship, all I could think of was the ponies we took. Each one of them had friends and family waiting for them, I’m sure. What right did we have to take that away from them?”
“So, what did you do?”
“I couldn’t return to the hive. Knowing the terrible things we did, how could I face my brothers and sisters? I always knew we were monsters, but I’d spent too long lying to myself to realize it. I didn’t even say goodbye.”
“I’m sorry, Thorax.”
“For what?” He scoffed. “Are you going to apologize for fighting a battle you didn’t start? We made our choices, Twilight. We needed to pay for the consequences. And we did. After I left, the hive fell apart. From what the other drones tell me, Chrysalis . . . stopped functioning.
“She spent all her free time in her chambers, planning ridiculous schemes. Orders stopped coming. Love stopped pouring in. Changelings have a sincere devotion to their Queen, sure, but most didn’t just wait around to die. By the time she launched her attack against you and your friends . . . it was just a matter of time.”
“And then you came to rescue us.”
He looked tired. Thunder echoed from the distant darkness. In desperation, Twilight turned upward, toward the sky. A full moon hung low amidst the veil of stars. They reminded her of Luna.
“Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I’d stayed.”
“You can’t think like that, Thorax.”
“It’s not that simple, Twilight. I knew she’d be devastated if her plan failed. I knew she’d need me. And I ran as fast and as far as I could to get away from her. In her most desperate moment, I abandoned her.”
“You didn’t abandon her,” Twilight argued.
“What would you call it, then?” He snapped back.
“Chrysalis pushed you away.”
“She loved me, Twilight. She sacrificed so much for me. And I repaid her with treason.”
“If you hadn’t left, we would never have met you. And there’s a decent chance your changelings wouldn’t have survived,” Twilight said.
“Maybe. I guess it doesn’t really matter now though, does it?”
“I’m sorry. I know things haven’t been easy on you.”
“I’m not telling you all of this so you’ll feel sorry for me, Twilight. I’ve made my bed. I’ll sleep soundly in it. You deserved to know the real Chrysalis. The cruelty. The kindness. Twilight, I want you to make me a promise.”
He rose to his hooves. The rumbling thunder grew closer. Occasional bolts of lightning illuminated the deck brighter than any sunny morning. With a heavy sigh, he turned his back to Twilight.
“When you find her, you’ll have to make a decision. I can’t tell you what’s right, but I want you to assure me that you’ll make that decision for yourself. If you choose Chrysalis, do it because you think she deserves it. If you don’t . . . then it’s not your problem to live with. We chose the path that led us here, Twilight. You shouldn’t suffer because of our choices.”
“That’s not true—”
“Promise me, Twilight.”
“I . . . I promise.”
“Good.”
With that, Thorax left. He headed toward the cabin, disappearing behind the tinted glass of the wheelhouse and leaving Twilight nearly alone on the deck. Twilight didn’t notice the figure approaching until it sat down beside her.
“A lot on your mind?”
Twilight jumped, her train of thought derailing.
“Dusti?”
Lieutenant Diamond winked, tipping an invisible hat toward the princess.
“The one and only.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump like that. You just . . . surprised me.”
“Yeah. Looks like you were pretty deep in thought. I thought I’d help you with that.”
Twilight chuckled, leaning back against the wooden rail.
“I’m not sure the most talented therapist in Equestria could fix me.”
“Well there’s your problem. You don’t need a therapist to help you think. Just a distraction. Seriously, have you ever tried thinking less?”
Twilight squinted an eye at her companion. “I’m a princess of Equestria. Acting on a whim sounds like a good way to start a war.”
Dusti shrugged.
Twilight sighed.
“So, Your Majesty, what’s on your mind?”
“It’s . . . complicated.”
“I’m a complicated girl. Try me.”
“It’s not really something I want to talk about, Dusti.”
“That’s why you should talk about it. You’re struggling to reach a decision, right? Well, bounce some ideas off me. I promise I don’t gossip. In fact, I’ve been known to give good advice every few years or so. Unless it’s like . . . something embarrassing you did.”
“It’s Chrysalis.”
Dusti raised an eyebrow.
“So . . . does she count as something embarrassing you did?”
A fit of coughing overwhelmed Twilight as she felt her cheeks burning bright red. Her wings bristled. “What? No. I mean . . . We didn’t . . . What?”
Dusti laughed. “You should see the look on your face right now.”
“It’s not funny. You don’t just make insinuations like that about a princess. You’re a soldier. What ever happened to the Chain of Command?”
“If you want me to leave, just give me the order,” Dusti challenged, her wispy chuckle finally fading into the night.
“I . . .” Twilight exhaled slowly. “No. Just . . . don’t say something like that again or I’m telling Shining and Cadence.”
“Bringing in the big guns, huh? Alright. I promise. No more insinuations about your probably very active love life.”
“Dusti!”
“Sorry. Force of habit. Let’s get back on topic. You were telling me about your problems?”
“I was considering telling you about my problems. I haven’t decided anything yet.”
“Well, that’s a good place to start.” Dusti squirmed around until she was lying on her back, staring up at the stars. She folded her forelegs behind her head, forming a soft surface to cradle her. Her hind legs kicked toward Twilight in an uneven rhythm. “You think too much.”
“We’ve been through this.”
“Look, I get it. You have to consider every possibility. You have to understand all the long-term effects to make sure Equestria is safe. But we’re not talking about the future of Equestria here, are we?”
“Maybe we are. I guess that depends on Chrysalis.”
Dusti chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Okay, let’s try this. Despite my royal beauty and charisma, I am just a humble soldier. I’ve been in my fair share of scrapes throughout my tour. Do you have any idea what happens to a soldier if they get caught up thinking on the battlefield?”
Twilight frowned.
“Suffice to say, the long-term effects don’t really matter to them anymore. Do you see what I’m getting at here?” She leaned forward just enough to read Twilight’s rather dour expression. “Sometimes, thinking about something is just going to get you in more trouble. You’ll get so caught up in thinking about the decision, that you forget to actually make it.”
“I know. I’ve done it before.”
“Well, with that established, we can move on to Chrysalis.”
“I know you don’t like her,” Twilight muttered.
“What’s your point? I don’t like Glaze either, but that’s never stopped me.”
Twilight studied the soldier’s expression, unsure of whether she should take her seriously or not. This confusion prompted an annoyed groan from the soldier.
“No, Princess, I don’t like her. But you do. And you’re the one on trial here.”
“Since we started working together, I saw a side of her I never expected. Beneath that tough exterior, she can be gentle and kind.” The slightest hint of a smile crept across Twilight’s lips. “I liked that side of her.”
Dusti gagged silently. Twilight’s grin vanished.
“But at the same time, she’s done a lot of terrible things, too. What if I misjudged her? What if I’m just biased? What if I take her back and she starts hurting ponies again? I thought I knew her, but I’m having second thoughts. What if I didn’t really love her?”
“Quite the conundrum,” Dusti interjected.
“That’s not helpful,” Twilight said flatly.
“Twilight . . . I don’t have much experience in the whole ‘love’ department. Well . . . not the kind of experience you’re looking for here. My point is . . .”
She trailed off, her mouth frozen on the last syllable.
“Your point is?”
“Give me a second, I’m trying to think of a good point.”
“Dusti . . .”
“I think you should drag her back in chains.”
“Isn’t that a little . . . harsh?”
“What I’m trying to tell you is that this isn’t a question I can answer for you. But I can offer you this advice: sometimes . . . sometimes the difference between right and wrong isn’t that clear.”
Twilight’s brow furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“Fighting changelings has cost me a lot of good friends. But . . . it’s a little funny . . .”
Dusti unleashed a mournful chuckle.
“How is that funny?”
“I’ve spent every night since the invasion wishing I could be there as Chrysalis drew her last breath . . . as if that would somehow magically fix all the pain she’s ever wrought.”
The unicorn stared into the stars, her vision far beyond them.
“You really hate her, don’t you?” Twilight asked hesitantly.
“That’s the part that I find funny. How many ponies have thought that same thing about me? I’m a soldier. I’ve spent years moving from battlefield to battlefield. I’ve hurt others. I’ve . . . I’ve ruined my fair share of lives, Princess. Does that make me evil?”
Twilight simply stared at the mare lying beside her.
“I fought for my country; for my princesses. Chrysalis fought for her hive and drones.”
“Dusti, are you okay?”
“Good and evil aren’t always so black and white, Twilight. If that’s the question you try to answer, you’ll be wondering about it the rest of your life. So, think of it this way. Which choice will you be able to live with? If you choose her, maybe she’ll betray you later down the line. Or maybe she’ll build a new life with you. I doubt even Celestia knows. But what do you think?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“That’s the question you have to ask yourself.”
Twilight let her shoulders droop, chewing thoughtfully on Dusti’s advice.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter too much right now anyways.” The lieutenant’s somber expression twisted into a grin. “Luna’s orders are to bring her back regardless.”
“Oh, now you care about orders,” Twilight mused.
“Well, yeah. Princess Luna ordered it.”
“Dusti . . . you might be the craziest mare I’ve ever met—”
“I try.”
“But you made a few good points.”
“I did?” Her eyes lit up. “I did!”
“Thank you.”
“It’s all in a day’s work. Unfortunately, that’s all my good advice for the year. Hope Glaze doesn’t need any. I mean, I’ll still give him advice, it’ll just be terrible.”
Dusti clicked her tongue as she grinned.
The ship sailed into a sea of grey clouds. Each crack of thunder shook the boards of the ship. Twilight could feel the static from each bolt that arced beneath them. The loudspeakers on the ship crackled to life with a momentary whine.
“This is Captain Shield.” His voice echoed from the brass speaker.
The two figures still on deck looked to the wheelhouse.
“I’m giving the order to clear the decks. We will be starting our descent soon and this ride is going to get a little bumpy. I want every pony on this ship standing by just in case. That is all.”
Dusti rose, brushing off her armor. “Sounds like we should get inside.”
Twilight looked out past the ship’s bow. Blackened clouds swirled like waves.
“You’re a good friend, Dusti.”
The lieutenant flipped a loose strand of her mane over her shoulder.
“Just remember that when you’re giving your brother a performance review, okay?”
“And tell him what? That you refused to listen to the Princess? Or maybe I should tell him all about your comments about my love life?”
Dusti gasped behind a hoof. “After everything I did for you? How could you be so cruel, Princess?”
The two of them broke into a fit of giggling.
“Alright. Let’s get going.” the soldier nodded toward the cabin. “All of this static electricity is messing with my mane.”
Twilight slipped into the wheelhouse. As always, Captain Shield stood at the helm to keep the ship steady. At the captain’s side, Thorax and a gold-clad stallion were debating over the map laid out on the table. Several other soldiers were gathered around the room, keeping watch with binoculars or reading off the various instruments around the cabin. Dusti offered one final confident nod to Twilight before she disappeared below deck.
“Princess. Glad you could join us,” Captain Shield said, his eyes still locked on the horizon.
“How are things up here?”
“We’ve got our heading. Once we get a little closer to our destination, we’ll descend to the base of the mountain to unload the troops.”
“And just how sure are you that it’s safe to land?” Thorax interrupted. “This storm has some serious power behind it. Even if this thing can stay airborne, it’s going to take a beating if you leave it out in the open.”
“She’ll hold together,” the captain assured him.
“I still say we’re taking too many chances.”
“Do you have another idea?” Twilight asked, taking a place closer to the windows. One of the soldiers offered his binoculars, but she refused.
“I do, actually. I say we take the ship down, drop off a small scouting party, then get this heap back into the sky. It minimizes exposure to the elements that way.”
“And in the process, we leave our ground team completely isolated,” the captain argued.
Thorax rolled his eyes.
“And why is that a problem? Are you expecting trouble, Captain?”
“Always.”
“Chrysalis isn’t a threat. Once we find her, Twilight and I can talk some sense into her.”
“I won’t put the Princess in danger like that.”
“There is no danger, Captain.”
“That’s not a chance that I can take. You were wrong about her before.”
“Enough.” Twilight stomped her hoof, her wings flaring outward. “I’m in command here. I’ll decide how we do this.”
“Of course, Princess.” The captain bowed his head.
“Fine.” Thorax nodded. “What do you think we should do, Twilight?”
“I think we’d be best off with Thorax’s plan. If the storm does take a toll on the ship, we don’t have a ride home. If we run into trouble or need a pickup, we can signal the ship with magic. Besides, marching in there with an army probably won’t send the right message. A small team will attract less attention and has a better chance of tracking her down.”
Adrenaline coursed through the princess. Her breaths felt heavy. Every soldier in the room stood tense, watching as the chain of command resolved this little knot.
“Thank you, Twilight. I’ll grab my things from my cabin.” Thorax descended the stairs.
Twilight finally noticed the tension in the air.
“Is this a problem, Captain?” she asked.
“Of course not. We’ll do as you command, Princess. We’ll be arriving within the hour, so I’d recommend putting your team together as soon as possible. Give them time to prepare.”
“Any recommendations?”
“I volunteer.” Private Glaze stepped forward from the group.
“Quartz?” Twilight studied the pegasus. “You want to come along?”
“I’ve got extensive training in tracking and scouting. I think I’d be perfect for the job, Princess.”
Twilight looked to Captain Shield. “Thoughts?”
“Honestly, Princess? He’s being modest. Private Glaze is an exceptional tracker. He’s still green, though. That’s a big risk to take if you end up in a fight.”
Glaze squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s my fault that Chrysalis escaped Canterlot, Princess. I want to do my best to correct that mistake.”
“I understand. Go get your gear together, Quartz. You’re coming with us.”
With an anxious nod, Quartz withdrew to his quarters below deck. He and Thorax were forced to squeeze together as they passed on the stairs.
“He seemed excited,” Thorax noted. He had his saddlebags draped over his back. Twilight’s bags floated beside him.
“He’s coming with us. I’ve been assured that his skill as a tracker will benefit our search.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Twilight,” Thorax said, offering her luggage.
“What’s the problem?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. She set her bags on her back and buckled them into place.
“I told you before, this storm is dangerous. The ship can get us close, but we’ll still have to make a small journey on foot to the cave entrance. My chitin can protect me. You’ve got your magic. How do we get him inside?”
Twilight paled. A cough surged through her suddenly dry throat as she diverted her gaze from Thorax like a child unable to meet their mother’s glare. “I . . . need to use my magic?”
Thorax scanned the faces in the room, finding comfort in their shared confusion. “Is that an issue?”
“Well . . . you see . . . It happened like this . . .” Twilight scratched the back of her neck.
“Twilight, is something wrong with your magic?”
In response, Twilight poured her magic into her horn. A pink bubble of energy rippled outward, growing nearly to the size of an apple before shattering and sending Twilight recoiling.
“It hasn’t worked quite right since I returned from the Nightmare World. It is coming back slowly, though. I was kind of hoping I would be back to full power by now.”
“But you’re not?”
“No.”
“So, you can’t keep up a shield?”
“No.”
“And without a shield to protect you . . .”
“I’m still coming with you. Alicorns aren’t fragile.”
“I don’t like this, Twilight.”
“Your Majesty, I have to agree with King Thorax,” Captain Shield said. “It’s dangerous sending you out there without your magic.”
“Well, it’s a good thing she’s got a couple mages on her payroll, isn’t it?” Every head in the room turned toward the voice. Lieutenant Diamond stood at the top of the stairs, her bags packed and horn aglow with its yellow aura.
“Lieutenant Diamond, are you volunteering for this mission?” For the first time since they arrived, Twilight saw Captain Shield tear his gaze from the open sky. He watched his underling with concern.
“I am, Sir. If the Princess allows it.”
“Are you sure, Dusti?” Twilight asked.
The unicorn saluted. “Ma’am, I’m a soldier of Equestria. I’m honored for any chance to serve the Princesses. Even if I have to dig my way through a changeling hive.”
Thorax cleared his throat. “And what about your magic? You’ll need a shield big enough to cover two other ponies besides yourself, possibly for an extended period of time. Can you manage that?”
“Been setting up shields most of my life, King Thorax, Sir.”
“Quite a few of our company owe the Lieutenant their lives,” Captain Shield explained. Several of the crystal soldiers bowed their heads in quiet agreement.
“I’m sold.” Twilight nodded. “And it looks like you’re ready to go.”
Dusti shifted the packs on her shoulder.
Glaze reappeared from below deck, laden with his own bags. He took position beside his superior officer, studying her equipment.
“You’re coming with us, Lieutenant?”
“Of course, Private. Someone needs to make sure you don’t screw this up.”
“I couldn’t have picked a better one, Princess.” The grey stallion turned toward his underlings. “Listen up, you two. You’re heading into unknown territory. Combat isn’t expected, but you must be prepared for anything.”
Dusti’s magic gripped at the pommel of a dagger tucked into her armor. Glaze checked the crossbow and quiver hanging from his pack.
The captain continued his briefing.
“You’ll be accompanying Princess Twilight and King Thorax as they make their way through the hive in search of the target. You are to follow any orders they give. King Thorax may not be Equestrian royalty, but he speaks with my authority. Of course, Princess Twilight’s orders supersede anything else. Is this understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” the two said in unison.
“Glad to hear it. I’m counting on you two to keep them safe and bring them home in one piece. Princess? King Thorax? Anything to add?”
Thorax stepped forward. “I know Queen Chrysalis can be a little . . . unpredictable. But I need you to remember that we aren’t here to start a fight. She is not to be considered hostile unless blood is drawn. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Good.” Thorax returned his focus to the world outside the cabin.
“This mission will be dangerous. I don’t want either of you putting yourself in harm’s way unnecessarily. Don’t forget, if you get yourselves hurt, I’m the one who has to report it to Shining Armor.”
“We’ll do our best to keep the bad news to a minimum,” Dusti promised.
“Good.”
“If everything’s settled?” Captain Shield waited for confirmation from all four members of the team. “Then we can begin our descent. The target is just ahead.” He pointed out past the bow of the ship. Against the endless sea of black clouds, a small stone peak speared through the sky.
The Captain pressed one of the buttons on the nearby console, causing the loudspeakers to crackle to life.
“This is Captain Shield. We’re beginning our descent. All hands stand by and hold tight. This could get a little rough.” He removed his hoof from the console. “Princess, are you ready?”
Twilight closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath.
“Let’s do it.”
Shield nodded solemnly, allowing a moment of silence before barking his orders to the gathered crew. “I want engines off.”
“Done,” A stallion said.
“Open the lids just a little. I don’t want to fall out of the sky.”
“Affirmative, Captain,” said another.
“Take it slow.”
Twilight kept her focus out the window. She could feel Thorax, Dusti, and Glaze standing at her side. Each of them shifted nervously as the ship sank into the blackened clouds.
Lightning flashed across the deck, leaving small black specks across Twilight’s sight. Thunder screeched like a raging dragon, rattling the glass in the windows. The rain started instantly as they broke the cloud cover, the individual drops invisible within the sheets of water that poured across the screens. The image of the mountain before them blurred.
The wood beneath them creaked as the ship lurched hard to the side, sending a few of the more unsteady ponies crashing to the floor. Even Dusti lost her footing, collapsing onto Glaze and nearly toppling him as well.
“Captain, we’re getting a little close to the cliffs!” One of the lookouts screamed.
“I see that,” Shield groaned, pulling the wheel hard to the opposite side. The lumbering ship started to turn, but it struggled against the gale. All the while, they descended toward the base of the stone tower. Each bolt that illuminated the sky sent the shadows scurrying in every direction, giving the rock the appearance of a gargantuan beast, writhing beneath the force of the storm.
“Brace yourselves!” The call echoed through the cabin.
Twilight grabbed on tight to the handrail beneath the windows. The others in the room followed suit, gripping to the cold metal as if their lives depended on it. She tried not to think about the fact that might be the case.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the crunch of wood as the ship struck one of the hive’s spires. The force jerked her to the side, forcing Thorax to catch her. Captain shield battled valiantly against the helm.
“Get me a status report,” he commanded.
A crewmate picked up some sort of communication device. A hushed voice spoke through it. “Hull’s cracked. Outer armor is dented but holding fast,” the stallion reported.
“Ground team, you ready?”
Twilight glanced back and forth to her friends, waiting for their input.
“We’re ready, Captain,” Dusti announced.
“Good. Then I’ve got an idea. Cut the engines.”
The electric whine in the air ceased. Only with its absence did Twilight finally notice. With it gone, the ambiance from outside only grew louder. The rain pelted against the glass with a devastating force. Slender hailstones chipped at the deck.
“Twilight, you’re sure this thing will hold?” Thorax asked, his voice quivering.
Her mind blanked.
“It’ll hold,” Shield interjected.
The ship met the mountain face again, shaking loose a small avalanche down the slope. The wind didn’t let up, keeping the ship against the stone and producing a maddening grinding sound.
“You sound pretty sure—”
“It’ll hold,” Shield repeated. With a shout of frustration, he yanked the wheel hard to the side, pulling them away from the falling stone. At the moment, Twilight silently thanked Celestia that she hadn’t eaten recently. The same couldn’t be said of the rest of the crew, if the pale green faces were anything to go by.
“Target’s dead ahead, Captain.” Glaze pointed toward a gaping maw in the mountain face.
“I see it.”
“We’re still too high, we’ll have to make another pass.” Dusti shook her head.
“We don’t have time for a second pass,” the Captain argued.
“We can’t make that jump.”
“No, but the ship can.”
Dusti and Glaze had only a brief second to dread the meaning behind the Captain’s words.
“I want all valves released. Fully. Now.”
“Twilight, if we survive this, you owe me.” Dusti looped both of her forearms through the railing.
Glaze kept his head down, bracing.
Thorax remained standing; determination carved deep into his face.
Twilight, meanwhile, thought back to her first few days of flight training. More specifically, Rainbow’s advice on what to do if she crashed. She let her muscles slacken with a gentle sigh.
The princess squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best to stay calm as her hooves lifted off the deck. The storm’s fury faded beneath the sound of the howling wind. Then that too faded.
Drowned out by the sound of crunching metal as the ship crashed into the dirt.
Twilight lay on the wooden floor, briskly rubbing the throbbing pain in her neck as she turned toward the speaker. Captain Shield grabbed an arm of the ship’s helm, using it to pull himself back to his hooves.
“That might have been a little much, Captain.” Glaze jumped up, testing his shoulder’s full range of motion as he stretched.
“I’m going to remember this the next time you call me reckless,” Dusti growled from a heap on the other side of the room.
Thorax appeared over Twilight, offering her a helping hoof. She took it gladly, allowing the changeling to pull her up. The tilted floor turned standing into a balancing act, but she adjusted quickly.
“Princess?”
“I’m alright, Captain Shield.”
As if enraged by their stunt, the storm outside howled. Lightning struck against the mountainside, raining stones against the armored hull of the ship. Shards of hail embedded into the deck, chipping away at the wood.
“I apologize for the rough landing, but we don’t really have time to talk right now.”
“Right.” Twilight nodded. “Glaze. Diamond. Are you ready to move?”
“We’re good,” Dusti reassured her, holding tight to Glaze as she made her way unsteadily toward the cabin door.
“Thorax?”
“Ready.”
“Then let’s do this.”
Twilight, Thorax, and Glaze formed a column behind Dusti. A blazing yellow aura engulfed the unicorn, stretching outward until it encompassed her entirely. With a solemn nod to the group gathered behind her, she turned the latch on the cabin door.
In an instant, under the force of the wind, the gate burst open, sending the lieutenant sprawling backwards into the outstretched grasp of her underling. With a twirl of her horn, the shield expanded, blocking the doorway and sealing off the invading storm.
“Line up behind me. Stay close. The less space I have to cover, the longer I can hold it,” Dusti explained. Without waiting for confirmation from her companions, she pressed forward. As she passed through, the shield bent outward, forming a bubble around her.
Glaze was next, stepping carefully out behind her. She stepped aside, expanding the shield to cover them both from the elements hammering against the magic aegis. Twilight and Thorax followed side-by-side.
“Send us a signal when you’re ready for pick-up. In the meantime, we’ll get this bucket back into the sky. Good luck to all of you.” Captain Shield looked to one of the stallions standing nearby, who closed the door behind them.
With the ponies inside safe from nature’s wrath, Dusti’s shield shrank until it covered only the four figures standing outside. They huddled close, allowing the unicorn to tighten the shield.
“After you, Princess,” Dusti said.
“Right. Let’s do this.” Twilight clambered up onto the rail. The tilted angle of their landing left only a few feet of space between the edge of the deck and the ground. With a quiet grunt of exertion, Twilight hopped down into the mud. The rest of the team followed.
The cave mouth opened less than a hundred feet in front of them. The mud gripped at their hooves as they journeyed forward, clinging to their fur and making each step heavier than the last. Lightning struck erratically around them. Each bolt pierced into the ground, leaving jagged glass sculptures centered in muddy craters. Rain and hail hammered at the shield, each one landing with a crash reminiscent of a cannonball.
“You alright, Dusti?” Thorax asked.
“Fantastic.” Her strained voice matched her gritted teeth.
“I can try to help. I’m not great with shields, but—”
“If you really want to help, pick up the pace. I won’t be able to hold this forever.”
She pushed past him, eager to reach the mouth of the cave as quickly as possible. Twilight and Thorax shared a concerned glance before hurrying after her. Glaze, still at the front of the pack, hadn’t noticed.
As they neared the cave, Twilight found her gaze drawn upward. The wind whistled through the hollow stone spires, creating a cry no creature in Equestria could match. Each shock of lightning created beastly shadows across the featureless cliffs. Though each step brought her closer to her destination, she couldn’t help but notice them growing heavier and hesitant.
Eventually, the troupe reached the cave entrance.
Glaze was the first inside, keeping a keen eye scanning the dark for any sign of movement. Dusti arrived second, the searing heat emitted from her horn enough to blur the air around it. Thorax and Twilight were last, only barely slipping inside before Dusti dropped her shield.
“That sucked,” Dusti muttered, leaning against the cave wall to catch her breath.
“You did well.” Twilight offered an assuring smile, but the lieutenant didn’t seem to notice.
“We should keep moving.” Thorax interrupted.
“Relax. I only need a second,” Dusti defended herself.
“Just . . . make it quick, please. Chrysalis has enough of a head start as it is. We need to be as quick as possible.”
Dusti scowled. “You really think a few seconds will make a difference? You don’t even know if she’s here.”
“Guys, we might have a problem.” Glaze said, his voice pitching up an octave.
“Chrysalis could topple empires in the span of a few seconds. So yes, every second is important.
Dusti waited for the changeling to turn his back before rolling her eyes, prompting a disapproving glare from the princess.
“Hey!” Glaze called, louder this time.
The trio turned toward him. He journeyed deeper into the cave, muzzle to the ground while he searched for any signs of their quarry.
“Did you find something?” Thorax asked eagerly.
“Yeah . . . I think.” Glaze pointed a hoof into the dark. “I need a light.”
Dusti obliged, igniting the tip of her horn with a soft yellow glow. A puddle of dark liquid shimmered in the light.
“What is that?” Twilight asked, wrinkling her muzzle in disgust.
“Blood.” Glaze knelt against the solid stone, examining the crimson stream. It flowed from beyond the range of Dusti’s light. Thorax paled at the discovery. “I’m guessing from that.” He motioned to the massive form laying against the cave wall.
“Is it Chrysalis?” Dusti asked, her voice utterly devoid of sympathy.
“No.” Glaze stepped forward toward the body. Neither the size nor the shaggy fur was reminiscent of their target. “It looks like . . . a bear?”
Dusti focused her light onto the limp form.
“An Ursa?” Glaze questioned.
“What happened here?” Twilight scanned the scene. Blood soaked the ground in dark puddles. Several deep gouges in the stone matched the brutal strike of an oversized bear. She traced the red streams to a wound in the beast’s neck.
“Is this Chrysalis’ handiwork?” Dusti frowned.
“Could be.” Thorax nodded. “It might have been seeking shelter from the storm. If Chrysalis came through here and woke it up . . .”
“It wouldn’t have been happy,” Twilight figured.
“And neither would Chrysalis.”
“Assuming it was her,” Dusti pointed out.
“Either way, we should hurry. Whatever fought this thing, it didn’t make it out unscathed.” Glaze directed their focus to a trail of crimson leading deeper into the mountain. They didn’t match the pools from the Ursa, appearing more as spattering drops than fatal blood loss.
“Well, at least she’ll be easy to track.” Dusti shrugged, earning a glare from Thorax.
“Come on. I’ll take the lead,” Glaze offered.
Even with the trail to follow, their journey hit its fair share of snags. Sudden shifts in direction combined with wide gaps between each clue often turned them in the wrong direction. More than once, their path took them up sheer vertical inclines, forcing them to carry Dusti through the rather cramped passages.
The green gems protruding from the wall had finally lost their charge, leaving the only bit of visibility from Dusti’s light. As they passed through the black crystalline décor common throughout the changeling architecture, her light cast strange shadows that didn’t quite match up with where they should be. The claustrophobic atmosphere pressed in on them. Each shade that passed curled like a twisted talon, reaching out to snag them.
“Thorax, there is something definitely wrong with your kind,” Dusti piped up.
“Thanks?” Thorax replied, offended.
“How did you live in a place like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“This place is creepy. It feels like something’s in here with us, watching us.”
“Because I’m a changeling. I’m one of those things that sits in the dark, watching you.”
“You’ve never seen a changeling hive before?” Twilight asked.
Dusti shook her head. “No. Not a big hive like this, at least. During the invasion, a few buildings were . . . converted to be more like a hive, though. You know, the sticky green ooze and black strands. That kind of stuff. Those weren’t quite as . . . empty, though.”
Thorax cleared his throat clumsily. “That sounds like storage areas. Get everything into one place before . . . sending it back to the hive. It’s a pretty common tactic—”
“Hey!” Dusti interrupted. “I’d rather not be thinking about the terrible things that happen to beautiful young mares like me in places like this. Save the stories until I’m not around, please.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“For that, or for the kidnapping?”
“That’s enough,” Twilight chimed in. “Both of you stay focused on the task at hand.”
The two fell silent, eager to avoid Twilight’s disapproving gaze.
Eventually, Thorax spoke up. “We should be approaching one of the main chambers. From there, it’s a straight shot to the throne room. I think we should start our search there.”
“Sounds good,” Glaze agreed.
True to Thorax’s instincts, the cave opened into a gargantuan hollow chamber. Smaller openings branched off in every direction, leading to the farthest ends of the tunnels. They followed Chrysalis’ trail down one of the larger offshoots. And soon enough, they reached a heavy oak door that looked out of place against the rough stone of the rest of the hive.
Several drops of blood had dried just before the doorway.
Glaze and Dusti each took a side, opening the way for the rest of the group to funnel inside. The hall looked almost identical to how Twilight remembered it. The storm raged outside, visible through the collapsed sections of the room. Waterfalls of rain formed at the edges of the damage, pouring down into small oceans around the room.
The two soldiers kept low, ready to spring into action. Thorax approached the stone stairs that once led to his mother’s throne. The red carpet had been torn to tatters by the elements. The throne no longer resembled any symbol of authority, but merely a pile of rubble.
Twilight’s gaze followed the bloody trail. It passed over a darker, older stain on the floor. The sight of this stain, darkened with age and darker magics, filled Twilight with a cold dread.
Glaze appeared at her side, curious at the sight that turned the princess pale.
“Something the matter, Princess?” he asked.
“I’m just . . . remembering.” She sighed, wiping the beginning of a tear from her eye. “Glaze, do you think things will ever just be . . . normal again?”
The soldier looked from the princess to the stained stone tile. “I’m not even sure what normal would be at this point.”
“Sometimes, I wonder if this is all just a bad dream. Maybe I never escaped the Nightmare, you know? Like this is just some crazy, messed up fever dream.”
“Princess?”
Twilight blinked, snapping herself out of her trance. “Sorry. I think I . . . drifted off for a second there.”
He nodded. “I get it. Things are crazy. And I know you’re worried about Chrysalis--”
“I’m not talking about Chrysalis. Glaze, this is where this all started. Right here.” She nodded toward the stain. “This is where I found the two of them. Celestia and Chrysalis. Both just barely clinging to life. It feels strange to be back here. It . . . it feels like it happened in another lifetime. To another Twilight.”
“If anyone can handle this, Princess—”
“I can. Yeah. You’re not the first to tell me that.”
“It’s true, though. We’ve all heard the stories of the great Twilight Sparkle. The Element of Magic. The newest Princess of Equestria. Vanquisher of—”
“Sometimes, I miss just being Twilight.”
Realization struck brighter than any lightning from the storm outside. Twilight pressed forward, past the old blood, following Chrysalis’ trail deeper into the hall, to another grand set of doors.
“Glaze?”
“Yeah, Princess?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For helping me realize what I need to do.”
“Oh . . . you’re welcome, I guess.” He scratched the nape of his neck, just below his helmet.
“Stay with the others. I need to speak with her privately.”
“Of course, Princess.”
As she approached the chamber doors, Twilight’s heartbeat thudded in her ears. Her legs threatened to buckle out from beneath her. But she didn’t stop. With a determined push, the doors cracked open, releasing a hiss of warm steam. She offered one last smile to her companion before disappearing through the gap, allowing the passageway to swing shut behind her.
The room beyond the doors felt far smaller than the vast emptiness of the throne room. Of course, Twilight had no evidence for that claim. The heavy bank of mist blocked out anything beyond a few feet in front of her. Somewhere in the haze, she could hear the babbling of a stream.
Beads of sweat had already started to form on her brow, a consequence of the thick steam that enveloped her. Her breathing felt heavier, though not harder.
The stone floor gave way to a shallow stretch of water. A thick cloud of steam rose from the surface of the crystal-clear pool. Before stepping in, she tested the temperature. Far from soothing, but not quite a burning heat, either. With a deep breath, she took her first step into the shallow end. The pond only grew deeper as she continued.
As the water finally rose to her knees, she noticed strange stone fragments dotting the floor of the pool. Though sharp, their brittleness crumbled beneath her hooves. Eventually, her journey rewarded her effort.
The mist thinned enough for her to see a dark figure lying in the water.
“Chrysalis?” Twilight gasped.
The changeling lifted her head, glancing over her shoulder to observe the newcomer. A vibrant green eye pierced through the mist, rooting Twilight in place. Her soaked mane stuck to her cheek, trickling a small stream down her chin.
“What are you doing here?”
“What am I . . .” Twilight furrowed her brow. “What kind of question is that? I came here looking for you.”
“You found me.”
Despite her warm surroundings, the words sent a chill crawling up Twilight’s spine.
“A-Are you okay? I followed a trail of blood to get here. Was it serious? We can get you patched up on the way home.”
“I am home.”
Twilight bowed her head, staring at her own reflection in the glassy surface.
“I-I know I messed up. I’m sorry. You were my friend, too. I shouldn’t have ignored you like I did. I won’t do it again. So, please give me another chance?”
Chrysalis made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a sob.
“Quit toying with me.”
“I’m not toying with you. I feel awful for what I did.”
“You really intend on making this difficult, don’t you?”
“I . . .”
Twilight let her mouth hang open, praying that the right words would find their way out.
“Go home, Twilight.”
“N-No.”
“Go home, Twilight,” she repeated, her voice growing more desperate with each syllable.
“Not without you. I . . . I thought we were friends.”
“We were.”
Twilight’s body quaked. Her voice grew loud and shaky.
“Then what do I do? How do I fix this?” she cried.
“There’s nothing to fix.”
The two fell silent, allowing the sound of a babbling brook to fill the air.
Twilight was the first to speak.
“This . . . isn’t about me, is it?”
“No,” Chrysalis admitted.
Twilight kept her distance from the changeling but circled around until she could see her face. In response, Chrysalis turned away, trying not to meet her gaze.
“Talk to me. Please?”
“Go home, Twilight,” she whispered.
Twilight lowered herself into the water, mimicking Chrysalis’ pose as she soaked.
“Do you remember the question you asked me before you left? About what I would do once all of this trouble with Celestia was over? I can’t go home until my work is done. And I don’t want to go home without you.”
“But you will.” Chrysalis’ voice shattered.
“Why do you sound so sure about that?”
“We both knew this could never work, Twilight. Maybe you don’t get it yet, but you will. Someday.”
“What couldn’t work?”
“Us. Me and you. A princess of Equestria and a changeling queen. It sounds like a bad joke.”
Twilight bit her lip.
“It kind of sounds like a fairy tale, I think.”
Chrysalis scoffed. “Yeah. You’re the princess, locked in her tower. I’ll be the wicked beast that guards you, waiting for the day Prince Charming cuts me down and sweeps you off your hooves. Quit kidding yourself, Twilight. Deep down, you had to know this couldn’t work.”
“That’s why you left?” Twilight asked.
“That was a part of it. I saw the way you were with your friends. The moment you saw them . . . you looked so happy. You looked . . . normal. Like you finally had someone to help hold you together. You didn’t need me anymore. So, I left.”
“I didn’t need you?”
“You told me you loved me. Do you remember that?”
“I do.”
“Why? Why do you love me? I did nothing but terrorize you for years. I hurt so many ponies. I nearly killed your brother. I nearly killed your mentor. I nearly killed you. And you told me you loved me.”
“I . . . did.”
“Why?”
Twilight played back their interactions in her head. Every moment they spent together. She never understood why herself. She told Cadence as much.
“I don’t know.”
“I do.”
“And why do you think I love you?”
“Because I was your only choice.”
They let the words sink in.
“How so?” Twilight asked, almost offended.
“That night when I woke up in the hospital, I saw the truth of things. Celestia was . . . gone. Luna didn’t seem to care for you. You’d been pulled away from your life and left drifting all on your own. I was awake all those nights when you would sit at Celestia’s side and cry.”
“You heard that?”
“It’s why I agreed to help you. I know what it’s like to lose a child. I imagine it’s rather similar to how it feels for you to lose a motherly figure like Celestia. It broke my heart to hear that.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“The night you came to ask for my help . . . the way you were willing to beg me. You were like a child, crying out for your mother. Every ounce of loss I’d ever felt just came flooding back. It was all my fault. I couldn’t just leave you.”
“You know, that doesn’t sound like a monster to me.”
Chrysalis wiped a tear from her cheek. To Twilight’s amazement, she thought she spied the barest hint of a smile on the changeling’s lips.
“That night, I decided that I would support you for as long as you needed me. I would be your port in the storm, so to speak. Over the time I spent working with you, I forgot my promise. I . . . I really started to care for you. I think I actually might have fallen in love with you.
“Then I saw you with Shining and Cadence. You finally reconciled with them. Then I saw you with your friends. You were happy. You weren’t alone anymore.”
“And you thought I didn’t need you anymore . . .” Twilight finished.
“You didn’t. You had picked yourself back up. You pulled your life back together. I knew you would be okay. And then I realized . . . you didn’t need me anymore. Your life would go back to normal. You’d forget about me. It was the plan from the start, but when the time finally came, I . . . I didn’t want to go.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because it was easier this way. A clean break. No messy goodbyes. No waiting around for you to realize the mistake you made. You would forget about me eventually, and I would forget about you, eventually.”
“After everything we’ve been through, you really think I would have just abandoned you?” Twilight asked, insulted.
“Not at first. But I thought about it quite a bit. The idea terrified me. We probably would be happy for a while. But somewhere down the line, maybe years, maybe centuries, I knew you would wake up beside me and realize I was the worst mistake you ever made.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“So, tell me, am I right?” Chrysalis watched Twilight from the corner of her eye.
Twilight took a moment to grasp the weight of their conversation. It brought a grin to her face.
“Not completely.”
“Then would you care to correct me?”
“At first, yeah. I felt so alone. And when I needed comfort, you were there for me. You were one of my greatest rivals and a villain that terrorized Equestria. But you were there for me. All the time we spent together; I saw a side of you I never thought existed.”
Twilight laughed.
“You asked why I thought I loved you? Well, I think I figured it out.”
“Do tell.”
“When you laugh, you sometimes snort.”
Chrysalis hung her head in shame. “That’s why you think you love me?”
“I can never quite figure you out. You’ve always got some sort of trick or joke up your sleeve that I have to be constantly on the lookout for. You’re able to make me laugh surprisingly easily. I do think you were right, though. All of these things make you so much like Celestia, that maybe I did use you as a surrogate for her while she was gone. But most importantly, you have the same kind of passion that she does.”
“Passion?”
“Thorax told me why he left. He told me what happened to your hive and why you invaded Canterlot. He also told me about a lot of the terrible things you had to do to survive. You made a lot of difficult choices.”
“And I would make those choices again, if I had to.”
“Because you had no other choice. You think that someday I’ll start to hate you because you did terrible things. You’re wrong. I almost admire you for it. Maybe not your methods, per se, but the lengths you were willing to go to fight for your loved ones. I found myself wanting to be like you a little, in that regard. I’m always scared that someday I’ll have to make a difficult choice, and I don’t know if I’ll have the stomach for it.”
“It’s not easy.”
“That’s why I love you. Maybe everyone else sees you as a monster. Even you yourself think that way. But that’s not what I see. I look at you and see a beautiful mare that’s spent her life struggling to do the best she can. I see a lonely mare who no one understands. And I want to understand.”
“Twilight . . . that’s . . .”
The alicorn rose from the bath, shaking off her wings.
“So, let me say this. I won’t force you to come back to Canterlot with me, if you don’t want to. I’ll just tell the others that you had already left by the time I got here. You can go wherever you want. Or, you can come home with me, and let me prove to you that you were wrong about us.”
Chrysalis kept her back to Twilight, letting her words ring through the hollow chamber. Even the water fell still, showing a perfect image of the changeling queen.
“You mean it?” Twilight asked, her trembling form sending ripples through the glassy water.
“I do.” Chrysalis closed her eyes. “Maybe it is a mistake. But it’s a mistake I’m willing to make. Even one I’m all too happy to make. I’m sorry for causing so much trouble—”
A trio of splashing steps gave her only the briefest hint of the inevitable. She braced herself, trying to warn Twilight, but was interrupted by the full force of the alicorn tackling her into the bath in a sort of aggressive embrace.
“Ow. Ow. Ow. Twilight, knock it off.”
“I was really worried that you were actually going to leave. I was so worried about you. You disappeared without a trace, then –”
Twilight’s face paled as she glanced down at Chrysalis’ face.
The changeling turned her head, as though Twilight’s gaze burned the deep gashes running over her cheek. She herself struggled to ignore the mar on her reflection. The alicorn released her, slinking away to a safer distance.
“I’m sorry. I forgot you were hurt. Did I . . . well, hurt anything else?”
“No.”
Chrysalis regained her footing, still hiding the damage from Twilight’s searching gaze.
“Did the Ursa do that to you?”
“Yes,” she groaned. “It caught me off guard. Got a pretty good hit in before I even knew it was there.” She ran her hoof over the wound.
“Let me look at it.”
“Twilight . . .”
Chrysalis relented with a heavy sigh. She turned back toward her companion, allowing her to study the full extent of the damage. Three long gouges began just below her broken horn, stretching down over her closed left eye before tapering off at her jawline.
“Can you open your eye?”
In response, the dark eyelid fluttered, never rising enough to allow a glimpse beyond.
“Does it hurt?”
“Yes. I had to use the last of my magic to patch up the bite.” She flexed her foreleg. “Didn’t have anything left for the eye. It bled for hours.”
“That sounds awful. I’m sorry I didn’t make it sooner.”
“Don’t apologize, Twilight. You’ve done nothing wrong. Just give me a minute to say my goodbyes, then we can go.”
Chrysalis glanced around the room, never focusing long on a single point.
“It’s strange. I had always felt such comfort here. It’s where I became a queen, where my children were born, and where I spent so much of my life fighting. But I guess that fight is over. Now it’s nothing more than a ruin, destined to crumble under the withering touch of time.”
“You could rebuild it,” Twilight suggested. “Start over. Start a new hive.”
“That’s what I came here to do. I would rebuild my throne and restore this hive to a form greater than ever before. But . . .”
“I guess the Ursa kind of derailed that plan,” Twilight said.
Chrysalis shook her head.
“No. I knew from my first step that it would never work. These stone walls were never home to me. I understand that now. It was the ones I cared for that saw me through all those years.”
She bowed her head.
“And now they’re gone.”
“Hey, don’t forget about Thorax.” Twilight splashed forward to stand at Chrysalis’ side. “He’s sent his changelings out all around Equestria searching for you. He’s been a nervous wreck without you. And don’t count me out, either. There are still others who care about you, Chrysalis.”
The changeling leaned against her companion, nearly toppling her.
“You still love me?”
“Of course.”
“Even after everything I’ve done?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Twilight. It means a lot to hear you say that,” Chrysalis said in a voice far lighter than before.
“Do you want to stay here a little longer?” Twilight asked, shifting around so she could lay her head over Chrysalis’ back.
“No.” She stepped away, untangling their embrace. “I’ll always have my memories of here, but I really need to head home.”
Side-by-side, the two of them made for the shallow end of the pool and out into the hall beyond.
Thorax was the only member of the crew still waiting for them at the door.
“Mom!” He cried, bounding forward in a child-like sprint. He wrapped his forelegs around her, pressing his cheek into her chitin chest plate.
“It’s good to see you too, Thorax.” She patted him on the head with her free hoof.
“I was so worried about you. I’m sorry about the other night. With Pharynx and the others. I won’t let them treat you like that again,” he promised, tearing up.
“It’s alright.”
“No, it isn’t. I abandoned you. You needed me, and I abandoned you. Just like before.”
“Hey.” She peeled Thorax away, guiding his chin with a hoof until he looked her in the eye.
“Your eye . . .” Thorax gasped.
“Listen to me, Thorax. I want you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“I don’t want you to worry about me anymore.”
Thorax jerked his head free from her grasp.
“What? Why?”
“I . . . I should be the one apologizing to you. I spent a lot of time thinking before you and Twilight arrived. I realized that I never taught you how to lead. Nor did I ever give you a role model to look up to. I know you love me, and I would never ask you to feel otherwise. But you’re not just a drone anymore. You’re the king. The others look up to you, just as you once looked up to me.”
“I-I don’t understand,” he stammered.
“You’ve done well so far. I can’t deny that. But there are more important things than me that demand your attention. So, promise me, as your queen, and as your mother, that you’ll stop fussing over me. Know that I don’t blame you for anything that happened between us.”
Chrysalis leaned forward, wrapping herself around a paralyzed Thorax.
“I’m proud of you. I’ll always be proud of you. And while I’m more than happy to offer advice and aid, you can’t fret over me forever. There are others who need you. Your subjects need you. I want you to be the king I know you can be. Will you do that for me?”
“W-Why are you saying all of this? What happened?”
“You said you’re upset with how your brothers and sisters treated me? I wondered about that myself while I was alone. And I think I know why. I’m not their queen anymore. And their king has spent far more time fussing over me than ruling. I know you’re disgusted by the way they’ve forgotten me, but they only do so because there are more important things to be done than worry for me.
“Will you do this for me, Thorax.”
“I . . . I’ll try,” he said, wiping a tear from his cheek.
“Thorax?”
“Yeah,” he sniffled.
“Remember what I taught you. A King doesn’t cry.”
The two of them shared one final squeeze before separating. The sound of sniffling drew their attention to Twilight, still standing off to the side, nursing her own brewing tears. She blushed as the changelings laughed.
“Don’t make fun of me. That was beautiful,” Twilight berated them, only prompting them to laugh harder. Their echoes finally garnered the attention of the two Crystal Guards standing at the mouth of the Great Hall.
“Did we miss something?” Glaze asked, noticing the teary-eyed smile decorating Twilight’s face.
“Well, looks like she’s still kicking after all,” Dusti mused, staring down Chrysalis, earning her a furtive glare from Thorax.
Chrysalis tugged Twilight aside.
“What are those two here for?”
“They were my backup.”
“In case I didn’t want to come home?”
Twilight frowned.
“No. They’re friends of mine. They helped me find you.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Dusti asked.
“Nothing important,” Chrysalis assured them.
“Right.” Dusti rolled her eyes.
“We should start making our way back to the entrance. We don’t want to keep the Captain waiting.” Glaze said, stepping between the two of them.
“Right.” Twilight nodded.
At her royal command, the group set off, making their way through the labyrinthian circuit back to the entrance of the caves. Chrysalis’ face scrunched whenever they passed the bloody breadcrumbs that marked their path.
“Does it still hurt?” Twilight asked.
She and Chrysalis slowed, allowing a space to open between the groups.
“What?”
“The claw marks. Do they still hurt?”
“Stings a little. Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Why shouldn’t I worry about it?”
“It’s not a bother to me. Is something wrong, Twilight?”
Twilight glanced ahead, making sure the rest of the party had moved out of earshot. “Everything you said about Thorax back there. That he needs to stop worrying about you and focus on ruling. Is that what you expect me to do? Because I won’t.”
“Relax, Twilight. I know better than to try and convince you of that.”
“I didn’t ask if you thought I would do it, I asked if you expected me to do it.”
Chrysalis tilted her head side-to-side, letting her thoughts rattle around her skull.
“I think it would be for the best. If you were forced to choose between your people and myself, could you do it?”
Twilight took a deep breath.
“I wasn’t going to come find you.”
“Is that so?”
“I was sending Thorax along with a complement of guards to bring you back. Without Luna, I didn’t want to leave the ponies without a princess to look over them. So, I didn’t plan to come find you.”
“I must say, I’m impressed—”
“Well don’t be,” Twilight interrupted. “I hated it. If something had happened . . . if they weren’t able to convince you . . . If you didn’t come back . . . I would have blamed myself for it.”
Chrysalis nodded solemnly. “Then, you decided you would put me before Equestria?”
“I didn’t choose anything. Luna was able to take over for me.”
“What would you have done if she hadn’t done that?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“It’s something you should consider, Twilight.”
Twilight scoffed. “Fine. But then there’s something I want you to consider, too.”
“And what is that?” Chrysalis asked, observing Twilight from the corner of her eye.
“Don’t think you’re expendable.”
“I don’t.”
“But you act like it sometimes. You say that we shouldn’t worry about you, and that you’re not worth jeopardizing our subjects . . . ”
“Do you think you should sacrifice your ponies for me?”
“No . . . But I hate hearing you say it so casually. Like you expect it to be simple for us to sacrifice you. You’re special, Chrysalis. Not just to me, but to Thorax too. That’s why we worry about you. I don’t know what either of us would do if we lost you.”
“I . . . I suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Even if it makes me unworthy of being a princess . . . I don’t know if I could choose between you and my subjects. I know what the right answer is, of course, but that wouldn’t make it any easier.”
“No. You’re right. I suppose it’s not quite that simple. Decisions like that are never simple . . .”
“But?”
Chrysalis turned her attention to the far wall.
“But . . . they do get easier . . .”
“That’s cruel,” Twilight whispered.
“Maybe. But it’s something I’ve learned from experience.”
“So then, would you sacrifice me to save another?” Twilight questioned, her voice taking on a harder edge.
Chrysalis hung her head. “I . . .”
The silence between them gave way to the sound of rain and thunder.
“We’re here.” Glaze announced, gesturing to the apocalyptic storm beyond the mouth of the cave.”
“I’ll signal the ship,” Dusti said, stepping as close as she could do the clattering hail without getting caught up in it. Her horn lit up, the same as when she conjured the light that guided them. With a wave of her head, she launched the light high into the air. It hung there for several seconds before fading.
“Think the Captain saw it?”
“I’ll send another if he doesn’t show. Until then, I guess we just wait here.” Dusti shrugged. She trudged over to the cave wall, plopping down and leaning her head back against the granite. Glaze set himself down beside her, tossing his helmet to the side. Thorax did likewise, though on the opposite wall.
Twilight looked to Chrysalis, waiting for her to make a move. The changeling joined neither group, instead simply falling where she stood. Twilight took a moment to circle, looking for a comfortable position to join her.
“How do you live underground like this?” Dusti asked, focusing on neither changeling in particular.
“We’re not the only species that lives underground, you know. Dragons usually live in caves, too.” Thorax said, his voice a little defensive.
“Yeah, but dragons also have scales strong enough to soak in lava. I doubt they feel any difference no matter what they’re laying on.”
“Where else would we go?” Chrysalis shrugged.
“I don’t know. Build a city on the surface. I’m sure the ponies wouldn’t have minded sharing their towns. Well, before you started eating them, I mean,” she added, spitefully.
“My dear,” Chrysalis began, raising her head and forcing Twilight to adjust her position, “we’re parasites. No species in their right mind wants to deal with us. Do you honestly think Equestria is the first continent we’ve settled in?”
“I’ve never heard of changelings anywhere else,” Glaze mused.
“Because they’re in hiding or dead. So far, Equestria is the most hospitable land we’ve ever lived in. You still try to kill us, but you’ve never raided our hives or hunted us down. Now that I think about it, it might just be sheer incompetence, though.”
“You make it sound like we’re the bad guys,” Dusti snorted.
“I didn’t say anything of the sort.”
“Did you expect anything besides hostility? For most of Equestria, our first interaction was your invasion of Canterlot.”
Chrysalis tilted her head, asking, “Were you there?”
“I was. Do you know how many friends I lost that day?”
“None, I would guess. There were strict orders about killing.”
“Perhaps we might try a different topic?” Twilight interrupted.
Dusti ignored her.
“You didn’t have to kill them. Your drones drained them. Stole every ounce of emotion and left them as nothing more than a husk. Maybe we should have raided your hives. You would have deserved it.”
“Dusti, that’s enough,” Thorax chimed.
“We should have chased you down to the borders of Equestria. And now here you are, worming your way into the good graces of the princess—”
“Lieutenant Diamond, that’s enough,” Twilight snarled. “The changelings aren’t our enemies anymore. You would do well to remember that.”
A crack of thunder filled the air.
“As you say, Princess,” Dusti relented.
They sat in silence until their ship appeared overhead, drifting towards the ground.
“Looks like Sky managed to fix his navigational charts,” Glaze said, hoping against hope to clear the sour taste in the air.
“Dusti?” Twilight’s voice became gentle.
“I’m sorry, Princess. I got a little carried away there.”
Twilight shook her head. “This has been a little stressful on all of us. We should just get to the ship and get home.”
“That sounds like a great plan,” Chrysalis agreed, stepping out into the rain. Thorax followed close behind her, his face solemn. The hail bounced harmlessly off their chitin.
“Dusti, I know how you feel, but things have changed since the invasion of Canterlot,” Twilight whispered.
“I know, Princess. I just . . .” In the somber atmosphere of the storm, with the few streams of silvered sunlight that poured through the clouds, the unicorn’s age started to show. She looked mournful without the spark of youthful energy in her face.
“We’ll talk more about this when we get back to Canterlot.”
Chrysalis pushed open the cabin door, stepping inside to shake the dampness from her mane. The sudden movement drew the attention of every armored pony in the room. They watched, muscles tensed and glares unblinking, like powder kegs waiting for Chrysalis to light a spark. Thorax squeezed in beside her. Blissfully unaware of the stiff atmosphere, he fluttered his wings, sending the rainwater splashing across the cabin.
“Miss Chrysalis. Glad you're alright.” Captain Shield nodded in her direction. He seemed to be the only one unphased by her domineering aura.
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” Chrysalis asked, chuckling to herself. Several of the soldiers scowled in response.
“Can you get out of the way? I can’t hold this spell forever,” A mare called out from behind her. With a start, Chrysalis stepped aside, allowing the rest of the group to funnel inside before Dusti released her spell.
“Glad to see you’re in one piece, Princess.”
“Likewise, Captain Shield.”
Twilight glanced around the room, each angry glare only adding to her concern.
“Did something happen? Is the ship alright?” She asked, her voice quivering with sudden panic.
“Nothing’s the matter, Princess. My subordinates are simply eager to be home. Isn’t that right?” His final words rang loud, jarring his soldiers out of their stupor.
“Well, what are we waiting for, then?” Dusti asked, pressing her way through the group gathered in the doorway. Glaze followed; worry etched into his brow as he accompanied her down to the lower deck.
“The Lieutenant makes a good point. Let’s get this ship in the sky,” Shield ordered. The crew went to work, shifting levers and running numbers over charts as they plotted their course. Despite their shift in focus, Chrysalis still noticed the occasional backwards glance.
“Given Miss Chrysalis’ presence, I assume everything went according to plan?”
“It did,” Twilight said, smiling.
“I hope Lieutenant Diamond and Private Glaze were fit for the task.”
Chrysalis watched the smile fade from Twilight’s eyes, though not from her lips. “They performed admirably.”
A quiet scoff escaped from Thorax.
“Glad to hear it.” Captain Shield threw a switch beside the helm.
With a shudder, the ship lifted from the mud. The wood and metal frame groaned under the storm’s abuse but held firm. Within minutes, they were back in the clouds, and then above them, back in the middling sunlight of dawn.
“That’s bright,” Twilight whined, using a foreleg to shield her eyes.
“Quite,” Chrysalis agreed.
“Do you have things in hand here on the bridge, Captain?” Twilight asked.
“I do,” he answered.
“Then I hope you don’t mind if we take our leave.”
“Not at all, Princess. I’ll send for you when we get closer to Canterlot.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
Twilight stopped just shy of the first stair leading down, watching Chrysalis with an expectant look in her eyes. “Are you coming?”
Wordlessly, Chrysalis glided toward her companion. She spent a moment studying the staircase as Twilight descended. The thin walkway had been designed for the common pony. To her dismay, she stood taller than the ceiling, forcing her to duck as she crawled her way down to the lower decks.
“Yeah. You might have to get used to that. Most places Equestria are built for . . . smaller frames,” Twilight said, glancing over her shoulder.
“This may come as a shock to you, but so are most Changeling Hives.”
As they reached the second floor, the space opened up, allowing Chrysalis to return to her full height, with a few inches of clearance to spare. Twilight guided her to the far end of the hallway, to a set of double doors.
“Try not to get your hopes up. It’s smaller than it looks, and the bed isn’t exactly comfortable,” Twilight warned, pushing her way inside. The changeling ducked under the shorter frame to join her.
“You can take the bed, if you want,” Twilight offered, motioning toward the small cot in the center of the room.
Chrysalis complied, dragging her increasingly heavy self over onto the bed. The lumpy mattress reminded her more of sleeping in her hive, than any civilized bedroom.
“I warned you,” Twilight said, watching Chrysalis lay her head against the pillow. With a twinge of pain, she rolled onto her side, pressing her wound against the pillow and obscuring the damaged half of her face.
“I’ve slept on rocks before,” she replied, her words flat and distant.
“Rocks might be more comfortable.” Twilight shrugged.
There was a bitter truth in those words, Chrysalis realized, but something else kept her from drifting off. She could feel the alicorn’s eyes boring into her back.
“If you have something to say, then say it.” Her tone sounded harsher than she intended, yet equally pathetic.
“There’s dry blood on your back.”
“I’m aware.” Chrysalis tapped the plate just behind her shoulder, where she felt Twilight’s stare. “That’s where the Ursa bit me. Cracked right through my plates like a cheap dish.”
“Do you want a towel? I could try to clean it off for you.”
“No. I’ll take care of it myself when we get back to Canterlot.”
Chrysalis felt Twilight’s hesitation, her next question balancing on the tip of her tongue. Eventually, she seemed to gather the courage to ask.
“How were you hurt so badly?”
Chrysalis sat up, fixing her lone eye on Twilight. “You do realize I won that fight, right? I know for a fact you saw the aftermath.”
“I know. And that would be impressive—”
“Would be?” Chrysalis furrowed her brow. “If you were anyone else, Twilight . . .” She waved her hoof at the alicorn in a mock display of threat.
“I mean, it is impressive. But I also saw how you handled the Nightmare. An Ursa shouldn’t have been that much trouble.”
The changeling’s amused expression faded. She retreated back into the bed, her back to Twilight. “I told you, it caught me off guard. If it were a fair fight, that beast wouldn’t have stood a chance. What are you getting at?”
“It did catch you off guard. I believe that. That’s how it scratched your face.”
“That is correct.”
“So how did it bite your back?”
“What?”
“You know better than to turn your back in a fight. So how did the Ursa bite your back?”
Chrysalis didn’t respond. Despite the overwhelming lethargy that overwhelmed her body and mind, she didn’t feel the call of sleep. A feeling she knew all too well. It seemed that Twilight had noticed as well.
When she received no answer, Twilight continued unraveling the thread on her own. “You wouldn’t turn your back. That means that the Ursa took the upper hand in your battle. Even without your horn, your magic should have been able to deal with that. I’ve seen what you can do, first-hand.”
“Please, stop,” Chrysalis begged, though her plea fell on deaf ears.
“Which means something is wrong with your magic. It’s gotten weak.”
The changeling flinched, already guessing the next question.
“Chrysalis, when was the last time you fed?”
“At the castle. After the Nightmare fight. Remember your little show?”
“Then why is your magic so weak?” Twilight was standing at the edge of the bed now.
“I-It . . . What makes you so sure that it’s weak? I was simply reeling from the first blow, and it took advantage of that,” Chrysalis argued.
“I don’t believe that.” While accusatory, Twilight’s words were soft.
“Believe what you want, it doesn’t change the truth.”
“You didn’t feed off me, did you?”
Chrysalis scoffed. “Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Look me in the eye and say that again,” Twilight demanded.
Rocketing up, Chrysalis complied, pushing forward until only inches separated their faces. She opened her mouth, ready to scream the words into Twilight’s worried expression. But she didn’t. The words refused to budge from her dry throat.
“I . . . “ She relented, bowing her head beneath Twilight’s scrutiny. “I-I did feed off you. Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“I fed off the love you felt. But I didn’t feed off you.” Defeated, she flopped back down onto the stony mattress, her eye trained on the ceiling.
“And because of that, you didn’t have the magic to fight off the Ursa.” It didn’t sound like a question. Twilight had taken her loose story thread and tied it off into a pretty little bow.
“I was being . . . conservative. I knew it would take much of what I had left to fix this.” She touched the claw marks on her cheek. “But it was more brutal than I calculated. It knocked me down and took a bite out of me. By the time I’d defeated it and fixed my back—”
“Why?” Twilight demanded, her voice cracking.
“I didn’t know when my next meal would be. I would have to conserve—”
“Why didn’t you feed off me?”
Rather than answer, Chrysalis turned her eye to Twilight. The alicorn stumbled back from the edge of the bed, staring at her hooves as though they were foreign to her. Tears were welling in her eyes.
“Did . . . Did I do something wrong?” She asked.
Chrysalis rose from the bed. Twilight didn’t look up at her as she approached, taking a seat beside her.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Twilight.”
“Then why?”
Gently, the changeling put a hoof to Twilight’s face, caressing her cheek while wiping away a tear. The purple fur trembled at her touch, though not in fear.
“I . . . couldn’t bring myself to hurt you.”
“I don’t believe that you’d hurt me.”
“It isn’t so simple, Twilight. If I misjudged your power or took too much energy . . . it would have changed you.” She heard Twilight sniffle. “I wanted to. Celestia knows I wanted to. But I couldn’t take that risk.”
“And you nearly died for it. Did you think that I wouldn’t be hurt by that?”
Chrysalis wrapped her foreleg around Twilight’s shoulder, pulling her close enough that she could feel the warmth of her skin against her shell. “I think we both know that I haven’t been in the best head state. I . . . misjudged my worth to you.”
“Then . . .” Twilight tugged on the black leg over her shoulder, allowing herself to sink into Chrysalis’ embrace. “Will you do it now?”
“Feed?”
“Off me.”
Chrysalis turned away, hiding the blush coloring her cheeks. “I don’t know.”
“Then, will you at least tell me about it?”
“What?” Chrysalis chuckled.
The purple pony lying in her lap wasn’t laughing. “Tell me about how a changeling feeds. I want to know. Maybe there’s a spell that will keep you from hurting me?”
Chrysalis glanced around the room, searching for an excuse in the sparse furnishings. “I suppose there’s no harm in that. It’s simple enough.”
“First point, you have to feed off of love?” Twilight’s voice adopted a clinical tone as her mind scribbled a list among its contents.
“Not necessarily. Technically, we can feed off of any emotion. Love is the strongest of them and is the only one that can provide us enough energy to offset the energy required to drain our prey. Plus, it’s the only one that doesn’t taste absolutely dreadful.”
“You can taste the emotions you drain?”
Chrysalis stroked her hoof through Twilight’s mane. “We can. We don’t even need to drain the emotion to taste it, though. Every creature gives off a sort of aura based on their mood. When we returned from the Nightmare battle, I could taste your love in the air. Skilled changelings like me are able to draw sustenance directly from that. Though it’s much weaker, the victim doesn’t even notice.”
“Victim?”
Chrysalis cleared her throat. “Well, what would you call them?”
Twilight scratched her chin. “Your meal? No, that’s not better. Target? Okay, I’ll think of a better way to say it.”
“Good luck.” The changeling tugged playfully at a pink stripe of hair.
“So, what happens when you actually feed?”
“Our victim . . . Our prey . . . The one we’re feeding off of is rendered docile beforehand, to keep from resisting. Then, their emotion is forcibly ripped from their bodies. It collects in the air much like their aura. And we can consume it from there.”
“That’s . . . grim,” Twilight squeaked.
“It is.”
“What if your meal doesn’t try to resist. Like when you were pretending to be Cadence. You had control over Shining Armor. He didn’t resist you.”
“That’s a little different. Your brother was under my spell. Though I controlled him completely, his spirit still rebelled against my magic. He did not give up his energy freely,” Chrysalis explained, trying not to think about how casually the two of them were discussing such matters.
“What about your infiltrators?”
“It’s a bit more effective, but still not perfect. It’s not actual love. There is a strange interaction with our magic. Even if we love the ones we infiltrate, there is an inherent dishonesty. It colors the magic. That is one of the biggest changes that Thorax made with his swarm.”
“He was honest?”
“From what I understand, he and his drones reveal what they are when they feed. There is no trickery involved. In doing so, they should be able to get more energy during a feeding.”
“Should?”
“It’s still not actual love. It’s closer to lust. A pony meets a changeling. That drone offers them the perfect companion. That companion is the one they love. Maybe a close member of the family they’ve lost. Maybe a fantasy lover they’ve always wanted. It doesn’t matter. It’s honest, yes, but there is no real love there.”
“I think I understand,” Twilight nodded.
“Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
“Never, but I only have one more question for now.”
“Ask away.”
“What if a pony did fall in love with a changeling?”
“Are you referring to yourself?”
“It’s a purely hypothetical question. Honest.” She batted her lashes innocently.
“Right.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Just answer the question.”
“I have no idea.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope,” Chrysalis stated matter-of-factly. “I’ve never heard of such a thing happening. Let alone what their feeding rituals entailed.”
“Never?”
“Never.” She emphasized her point with a lazy shake of her head.
“Then I’ll consider it a privilege to be the first to learn. Call it an experiment. Remember when you offered to help me out with those?” Twilight smirked.
“About that . . .” Chrysalis’ tone turned somber.
“Is something wrong?”
“I said . . . a lot of things before. I want to start over.”
“Start over?”
“Despite how I felt about you, our relationship before this was still an act. I never intended for it to become more than that. And if you’re serious about giving this another chance, I want to do it right. No more secrets, no more pretending. A fresh start.”
“I suppose we could. We did still kiss, though.”
“We did.”
“Was that just part of the act?”
Chrysalis sighed, thinking for a moment before opening her mouth to answer.
“We’d better answer that,” Chrysalis said hastily.
“Don’t think you’re squirming out of that question so easily,” Twilight added, freeing herself from the changeling’s grasp.
“Twilight Sparkle!” Chrysalis pressed a hoof to her chest, her face curled in insult. “ How dare you insinuate such a thing. I think it’s simply rude to leave a guest waiting.”
“Right,” Twilight grumbled, trying to hide the growing grin on her lips.
Another knock at the door.
“Princess Twilight?”
She recognized Glaze’s shaky voice.
Twilight tugged the door handle, cracking it just enough to reveal the finicky pegasus.
“Quartz? Something up?” Twilight asked, poking her head out through the opening.
“Is Miss Chrysalis in there? I’d like to speak with her. If it’s not too much trouble, that is.” He carried his helmet in the crook of his foreleg. The red feather waved back and forth with his nervous sway.
“What’s the matter? You look nervous.”
“Yeah.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Dusti’s in a real bad mood. I decided to come here on her behalf. She’ll probably kill me if she finds out. With that said, would you mind if I spoke with Miss Chrysalis?”
“I guess there’s no harm in that,” Twilight decided, stepping back and pulling the door open the rest of the way. With a gracious nod, Glaze returned his helmet to its proper position and stepped inside.
Chrysalis had shifted back into the bed, lying on her belly, keeping her head propped up with a hoof. She studied her free foreleg between bouts of polishing it. She pretended not to notice the Crystal Guard’s arrival until he stood before her.
“Yes?” She asked, sizing up the soldier and remaining thoroughly unimpressed. Even lying the way she was, she rose nearly a head taller than him.
“I came to speak with you, Ma’am.” He bowed low enough to nearly lose his helmet.
“Then speak.”
“Right. I’m here on behalf of Lieutenant Diamond. I wanted to apologize for her actions back in the hive. I assure you that she’s usually much calmer than that—"
“Apology not accepted,” she interrupted, assaulting him with a gaze that would break a lesser spirit.
In response, he turned to Twilight, eyes searching frantically for assistance.
“Excuse me.” Twilight smiled coyly as she slid past Glaze. Her joyous demeanor vanished as she leaned in toward Chrysalis, close enough that the changeling had no choice but to see her. “What are you doing?”
“Sitting on this bed. How about you?” Chrysalis answered, trying to lean back from her companion. Twilight took advantage of her retreat, pressing forward to keep the space close.
“I meant, why are you being so mean to him. He’s trying to be friendly.”
“Twilight, being friendly with you is one thing. Your soldiers, meanwhile, will never accept me. You heard what she said to me. You saw how they reacted. For all I know, he’s probably here to make sure I didn’t kill you and escape again.”
Twilight sighed. “Look, I know there’s a lot to work out. But what about this? If you try being friendly toward them, maybe they’ll start to like you too? It worked on me. So please, for my sake, could you be a little nicer?”
“Fine,” Chrysalis groaned.
Twilight stepped back, allowing Chrysalis to roll off the edge of the bed and onto her hooves. Standing upright, she towered over Quartz, unraveling his nerve with increased ferocity.
“What is your name, Soldier?” She asked.
“Glaze. I was one of the ones who accompanied you in the hive.”
“Yes, I’m aware of the role you played in my return. I suppose you have my thanks for looking over Twilight in my absence.” Though far from courteous, her words no longer carried a venomous edge.
“Oh. That’s no problem. It’s my duty to protect the princesses.”
“You came here seeking to apologize on behalf of your buddy for what she said down in the hive, right?”
“Yes. She isn’t—”
“I don’t want an apology.”
Behind her, Twilight’s temperature ticked up a few degrees.
“Oh.” Quartz backed down.
“Let me clarify,” Chrysalis continued, far too aware of the rage boiling in the air. “I do not need an apology for the things she said. She was well within her right to do so.”
“That doesn’t make it right, though,” Glaze argued.
“True. But Twilight made a nauseatingly decent point. Most ponies despise me for what I did. The actions of my past were done out of necessity, and I will allow myself to neither regret nor apologize for them. To do so would negate the sacrifice of many of my changelings.”
Chrysalis closed her eyes, letting her head hang as she continued.
“But I will concede that my actions were terrible. I can not excuse the anger and hatred that resulted from them. And until the day when I’m no longer bound by the scars of my past, I will bear their hatred for me. Is that clear?”
“I-I think so,” Glaze said.
“Good. Then I believe we are finished here.” Chrysalis clambered back into the bed, returning to the same position she had been in when he entered.
Nodding weakly, Quartz bowed and made his way toward the door. Before he could exit, he stopped, glancing back over his shoulder at the lounging changeling.
“You know, not every pony hates you.”
With that, he stepped out, shutting the door behind him.
Chrysalis rolled onto her back, staring upward at the upside-down visage of Twilight. “Happy? I tried being nice.”
“I definitely believe you tried.” Twilight shook her head. “Not entirely sure if you succeeded, though.”
“You didn’t ask me to succeed at being nice.”
“I guess that’s true,” Twilight noted, rather disappointed.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m not used to being nice.”
Twilight sensed sincerity in her words.
“You’re nice to me?”
“You’re . . . different.”
The princess raised an eyebrow, prompting Chrysalis to continue.
“You . . . saw past a lot of the things I said. The things I did. You found me at my most vulnerable moment. You might be one of three or four beings in existence that can say that. When you live a life of subterfuge and trickery, you kind of forget how to trust anyone. You reminded me.”
“Let’s work on it together, then,” Twilight suggested. “You can sit in on some of Starlight’s friendship lessons. I think that would do you some good. And she could definitely use someone to practice with.”
Chrysalis snorted, leading into a small fit of laughter.
“What?” Twilight demanded, her cheeks reddening, though she didn’t know why.
“You’re very lucky I like you, Twilight.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Even Thorax couldn’t have gotten away with ordering me around like that.”
“I didn’t order you to do anything,” Twilight argued. She plopped down at the edge of the bed, resting her chin on the scratchy fabric.
“For my sake, could you be a little nicer?” Chryis mocked.
“That’s not ordering you to do it.”
“It might as well be. You know full well I can’t say no to that.”
“Yeah. I know. But, strictly speaking, it wasn’t an order.” A mischievous grin crawled across Twilight’s lips.
“Now you want to get technical on me?”
“Oh, would you just shush and get some sleep already?”
Chrysalis scoffed, defeated.
“Fine. But I’ll do it for my benefit, not yours.”
She fluffed the pillow, slamming her head into it in a paradoxical display of angry restfulness that made Twilight giggle.
“You’re adorable.”
“Now you’re just being cruel.”
The alicorn shrugged.
For a while, the two sat in comfortable silence. Eventually, Chrysalis’ eyes started to close.
“Twilight?”
“Hmm?”
“There’s still room in the bed.”
Chrysalis tapped at the empty space beside her.
“I don’t know if it will hold us both.”
“It can’t be that expensive to replace this cheap thing. At least, not compared to the armor.”
Unable to think of a better excuse, Twilight squirmed into the bed without lifting her head. She didn’t feel tired until her cheek hit the pillow.
“Oh. I didn’t tell you about that, did I?”
“About what?”
“We crashed the ship into your hive.”
Twilight felt the cold chitin on her back heave as Chrysalis broke into a hearty laugh. “You did what?”
“We crashed the ship into your hive?”
“Why?” she asked between fits of laughter.
“Well, we didn’t do it on purpose!”
Twilight scooted closer to Chrysalis. The disparity in their sizes left the princess with the perfect space to slot herself. Chrysalis wrapped one of her forelegs protectively around Twilight’s middle as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Although the act brought her comfort, she couldn’t shake the nervousness coursing through her from that single cold touch. Her body felt tense, as though the simple rise and fall of her breathing would shatter this fragile moment. Eventually, she relaxed, lulled by the simple rhythm of Chrysalis’ breathing.
As her eyes closed, Twilight thought of her lavish quarters back in Canterlot. Of her silk sheets and feathery pillows. Suddenly, this lumpy little mattress felt far more comfortable than any other bed in Equestria.
A gentle trio of taps on the chamber door stirred Twilight from her slumber. Awareness returned to her in tattered shreds. Her yawn turned to a drowsy squeal, then finally into a long, contented sigh. Bones clicked into place as she stretched out across her half of the mattress.
The knocking came again, sobering the sleepy alicorn.
Gathering her willpower, she tore herself from the sheets, putting on a happy face to greet her guest. At least, she would have, were she not held in place by the rather muscular foreleg wrapped around her midsection.
The movement of Twilight’s escape attempt caused the changeling to tighten her grip, pulling the pony close enough to feel the warmth of breath against the nape of her neck. The odd sensation sent a shiver down her spine, but she tried not to focus on that.
Another knock, more insistent than before.
Frowning, Twilight scanned the room. From her low vantage point, the only locations of note were the desk and the balcony window. Outside, Luna’s stars were on full display. As she continued her search, Twilight silently lamented just how far she had thrown off her sleeping schedule. A lone candlestick on the desk caught her eye.
Though still coated in the wax of previous uses, the metal tool would serve her needs for the moment. With eyes shut tight and mind calm, Twilight focused on the candlestick. Her power gathered in her forehead, at the base of her horn.
What had once been a searing pain became a dull throbbing, allowing her to think. The soft twinkling of magic filled the air as the metal piece lifted off the desk by a few inches. With a flick of her head, Twilight dragged it to the opposite edge of the desk.
Pleased with her test, she moved on to the second phase of her master plan. Her magic gathered again. This time, though, she spread it throughout her body. The tingling sensation in her skin vanished in a flash. The wooden floor appeared beneath her hooves. Hesitantly, she opened an eye. Then the other. She stood at the edge of the cabin, just behind the door. On the bed, Chrysalis tightened her grip on the empty space Twilight had left behind.
“Princess? Are you awake?”
She recognized Captain Shield’s gruff voice. Unlatching the lock, Twilight cracked the door open wide enough to see out into the hallway. The Captain straightened his posture as Twilight addressed him.
“What is it, Captain?” she whispered.
“We’re approaching Canterlot. We’ll be landing in a little under twenty minutes. I just thought you’d like to know.”
“I appreciate it, Captain.”
The old soldier nodded. Before he could leave, Twilight stopped him.
“Captain?”
“Princess?”
“Any problems with the crew?”
“Are there any I should be aware of?”
Twilight peeked over her shoulder at Chrysalis, still snoozing. “As a matter of fact, there is one. I must say that I wasn’t thrilled about that display yesterday, Captain.”
“What display, Princess?”
She donned her most regal speech. “When Chrysalis boarded the ship. Don’t tell me that you didn’t notice it. Your soldiers looked ready to jump ship. Or throw us overboard. Or both.”
“I apologize, Princess. I thought them merely nervous in the presence of Miss Chrysalis. If you deem their reaction detrimental to the mission, I’m sure Captain Shining would be more than happy to hear of it,” The Captain explained.
“That won’t be necessary. Chrysalis has no intention of punishing them for it, so neither will I. However, if they pull a stunt like that again, Shining Armor will be the least of their worries. Am I clear, Captain?”
“Crystal, Ma’am.”
“Good. Other than that, you and your company performed exceptionally. Shining will be proud.”
“Thank you, Princess.”
With that, the officer bowed and left. Twilight shut the door as quietly as she could before stepping away and crashing into Chrysalis. The changeling’s sudden appearance startled the princess, causing her to shriek as she stumbled head-over-hooves.
Captain Shield was back in an instant.
“Princess Twili—”
“I just tripped! I’m fine!” Twilight shouted back, still tasting her pulse in her throat.
“Good morning,” Chrysalis stated plainly, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
“It’s not funny. Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Twilight ordered.
“Sorry.” Chrysalis linked her foreleg with Twilight’s, yanking the princess up off the floor.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Nope. Just faking.”
“Then you heard the knock at the door?”
“I did.”
Twilight wrinkled her brow.
“And you were purposely holding me in place and keeping me from answering it?”
“Yup.” She nodded enthusiastically.
“Well, it’s a good thing I managed to get free. The Captain had a message for us.”
“We’re approaching Canterlot, right?”
Twilight offered a skeptical frown.
“Exactly. How did you know?”
“Simple logic. What else would the Captain be coming to tell us? If it were an emergency, he wouldn’t have been so quiet. If it weren’t important, he wouldn’t have tried so hard to deliver the message. Besides, there are only a few things that even matter on a ship like this. Our destination ranks pretty highly on that.” She finished her explanation with an overexaggerated eye-roll, as if it had been the dumbest question she ever heard.
“Oh. You actually used logic to figure it out.”
“Why do you sound surprised by that?” Chrysalis pouted.
“No, I just thought that you—”
“Were eavesdropping? Because I’m a little sneak, right?”
Twilight’s cheeks reddened as she stammered out her answer.
“T-That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Right. Sure,” Chrysalis groaned. “And here, I was so proud of you after you threatened your guards on my behalf. I’m disappointed, Twilight.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. I didn’t . . .” Twilight’s confusion melted into skeptical annoyance. “What makes you think I threatened my guards?”
“I overheard you while I was eavesdropping.”
Chrysalis shrugged.
“You’re a pain sometimes, you know that?” Twilight asked, shaking her head.
“You’re the one who told me you liked that I keep you vigilant. Wouldn’t want to bore you now, would we?” The changeling turned serious. “Besides, if I’m being honest, it’s nice to have someone to joke around with.”
“Sometimes, I think you and Celestia would get along far too well.”
“Oh?”
“She could be quite the jokester when she wanted to. Sometimes she enjoyed it a little too much, in my opinion.”
“Is that so? Well, now we have to save her. I’m looking forward to such a promising challenger.”
“Speaking of which . . .” Twilight wandered past Chrysalis, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “I’ve been doing some thinking about that. In between the bouts of panic you keep causing me, of course.”
“Oh? Any revelations to share?” Chrysalis curled up on the floor in her regular lounging pose.
“I’ve been wracking my brain trying to think what went wrong with the cure. By all accounts, it should have worked. You saw it counter your magic. Do you have any idea why it didn’t work that well on the poison?”
Chrysalis shook her head.
“Well,” Twilight continued, “I did have a few theories that I’ll need to test when we get back. Like, maybe the dosage was off. I would love to test a small dose on some of your more powerful magics. See if it has trouble, too.”
“Sounds like you have a few ideas,” Chrysalis noted.
“Yeah. It’s been driving me crazy that I haven’t had time to work on it. I considered bringing some of my experiments aboard, but that probably wouldn’t have ended well. We’ve got enough damage to repair on this ship as it is.”
“You know, if I’m going to have to conjure stronger magics, I’ll need to feed first.” Chrysalis shifted uncomfortably.
“So, we’ll have to find a source for you. We could always ask Thorax. He seemed rather intent on helping you before. Maybe he’ll do it again?”
“I would prefer not to siphon off him if possible. He’s done enough for me as it is.”
“Any other suggestions?” Twilight asked.
Chrysalis weighed her options.
“Normally, I’d recommend infiltration. Without my shapeshifting, though, that’s not going to happen. Maybe a volunteer for me to feed off? A servant, or something like that?”
“I thought it wasn’t safe for you to try that? Isn’t that why you refused to feed off me?”
“It’s a different scenario, entirely.”
Twilight noted the sharper edge to the changeling’s voice.
“Well, I can’t see any of the castle staff volunteering for that. If Luna’s recovered enough, it might be possible that she could. Other than that, maybe Shining or Cadence?”
“Those all sound like terrible options,” Chrysalis lamented.
“We’re not exactly drowning in possibilities here.”
“Talk to me later. Maybe I’ll have something else we can go on by then.”
Twilight growled, throwing herself backwards on the mattress. She studied the natural pattern on the planks that composed the ceiling.
“Twilight?” Chrysalis whispered.
“Yeah?” Twilight answered, tracing one of the darker slivers of the wood.
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
“I know.”
“I . . .”
Twilight could hear Chrysalis’ breath catch before she continued.
“I still ask myself if she made the right choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“If she had left me there to die. Or if I’d had the common decency to die faster. She’d be sitting on her throne in Canterlot.”
Twilight sat up.
Chrysalis was entranced, sifting through the memories of a world that almost was.
She continued. “Shining and Cadence would be home, tending to their kingdom and their family. Thorax would be pulling himself together to act like a king. And you . . . I imagine you’d be hiding beneath the covers of your bed, reading by lamplight.”
Chrysalis’ eye drifted back into focus.
Twilight crossed her forelegs over her chest.
“You shouldn’t think like that.”
“We’d still be enemies. You wouldn’t miss me. Now that sounds like the fairy tale ending. Happy endings for everyone.”
“Except you.”
Chrysalis snickered.
“Who knows? Maybe that would have been my happy ending.”
“You’re wrong. That wouldn’t have been a happy ending.”
Chrysalis hopped up, throwing her hooves into the air in a grand gesture.
“And you think this story’s ending will be any happier?”
“I do.”
Chrysalis settled back down.
“Then you’re naive, Twilight.”
“You’re not happy with me, then?”
“Of course, I’m happy with you, Twilight. But—”
“No buts,” Twilight commanded harshly.
“But . . .” Chrysalis continued, unimpeded. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to know the price of my own life? How much it cost just so I could live? You. Luna. Equestria. All of you sacrificed something so that I could live. Celestia gave her life for me. And now I’ll have to live the rest of my life regretting that for her.”
“Chrysalis, stop. Please.” Twilight’s commands broke down into pleading.
The changeling glanced up at Twilight. The alicorn was shaking. Whether anger or sorrow caused it, she didn’t know.
“I-I’m sorry, Twilight. I . . . shouldn’t have said that.”
“Is it really all so horrible?” She asked.
Chrysalis retreated.
“No. I’ve enjoyed our time together, Twilight. Honestly. I’ve never had someone . . . care about me the way you do. I loved my changelings, but there’s a difference. I was their mother, yes, but I was their queen first. They cared for me out of obligation. But you . . . Can I tell you something, Twilight?”
Twilight twitched.
“What?”
“I would have been able to escape the castle at any point.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“I had it all planned out by the second night there. I would’ve left. Maybe I would have scraped by in the countryside, feeding off what scraps I could. More than likely, I would have died out there. Just like I should have back in my throne room.”
“So why didn’t you leave, if you were so keen on it?” Twilight sounded disgusted to have to ask.
“Who knows? Not for Celestia’s sake, I know. Part of me found it funny. I’d spent so long trying to bring her down. In the end, I finally get my wish while she’s trying to save me. Perfect irony.”
Each word only pushed Twilight closer to the edge. Nevertheless, Chrysalis continued.
“Because you asked for my help, maybe? Pity? Mercy? No.”
“Then tell me why.” Though Twilight’s words were soft, they carried weight.
“I think it was you.”
The princess scoffed.
“You just said it wasn’t.”
“No. I said it wasn’t because you asked for my help. I told you earlier that the reason I liked you was because you saw me at my most vulnerable. And you didn’t hate me. I wasn’t sure such a thing was possible. You gave me a reason to live again.”
“Weren’t we also the ones to take it away?” Twilight asked.
“I don’t think so.” Chrysalis shook her head. “After you and your friends raided my hive, I lost my family. I lost my subjects. But that’s not when I lost my spark. It had been gone for years. Dampened and quenched by loss and pain. I was . . . numb. I forgot what it felt like to really be loved. You reminded me.”
Twilight gave a reluctant smile.
“Do you really mean that?”
“I do.”
“Then, do you trust me?”
“I-I do.”
“Then don’t ever talk like this again. I don’t ever want to hear you say that you weren’t worth the price Celestia paid. She made her choice. Even after you attacked her, she stayed by your side. She didn’t think the price was too steep. And neither do I. I don’t want to lose Celestia. But I don’t want to lose you, either. You might not think you’re worth the trouble, but I do.”
Chrysalis rose once again. She approached Twilight, craning her neck and nuzzling against the alicorn’s fuzzy shoulder, saying, “I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep that in mind for the future.”
The two of them let silence flood that cabin again.
“It’s a little stuffy in here,” Twilight mused, rubbing her eye. “And, we should be landing in Canterlot pretty soon. What do you say we go upstairs and get some fresh air?”
“I think that sounds like a great plan, Twilight.”
The alicorn pushed herself up off the bedframe, leading Chrysalis to the cabin door.
“Twilight?”
The princess’ hoof froze on the handle.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know what will happen to us. I don’t know if we can still save Celestia. I don’t know what your subjects will demand of me. I don’t have the slightest clue what our future has in store. But no matter what, I want you to know that I really have enjoyed our time together.”
“Me too.”
The two mares shared a brief moment of bliss as they stood at the cabin entrance, entranced in a somber joy.
Straightening herself, Twilight pulled open the door. As she stepped out, her body locked in place, a quiet whine emanating from her.
“What’s the matter?” Chrysalis asked, leaning over Twilight’s shoulder to scan the hall.
Outside, Quartz Glaze and Dusti Diamond were standing, wide-eyed and awestruck.
“H-How much of what?” Quartz stammered, suddenly enraptured by the sight of his own hooves.
“Our conversation. Our private conversation.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Princess. We didn’t hear anything.” Dusti cleared her throat, reforging her usual unimpressed expression. “Did we, Quartz?”
“Nope. Not a thing,” His words were quick enough that they barely understood him.
“Did you find something interesting down there on the ground?” Chrysalis asked, slipping out of the cabin doorway. She advanced on the cowering Quartz, but the Lieutenant stepped between them.
“He said we didn’t hear anything,” Dusti explained.
“Take it down a notch, you two,” Twilight lay a hoof on Chrysalis’ shoulder, restraining her. “We’ve done enough damage to the ship without starting a fight in the hold. If she says they didn’t hear anything, I believe her.”
“They’re obviously lying,” Chrysalis argued.
“They didn’t hear anything. Right?”
“Not a thing, Ma’am,” Dusti answered.
“And since they didn’t hear anything, they won’t be telling anyone about it. Right?”
“Right, Princess,” Quartz agreed, his speech still alarmingly fast.
“So then why are you here?” Chrysalis inquired.
Dusti addressed Twilight directly. “Canterlot is in sight. The Captain ordered us to spread the word and start packing up. Everyone else is already waiting up on deck.”
As if triggered by her message, the ship slowed immensely, nearly toppling the group gathered in the hallway. Even from here, they could hear the engines hiss as they released their steam into the night sky.
“And that’s our cue to get moving.” Eager to escape, Quartz made a break for one of the far rooms. He reemerged less than a minute later, laden with both Dusti’s luggage as well as his own. He didn’t bother waiting for her permission before vanishing up the stairs to the main deck.
“You really should teach him to lie better,” Chrysalis said.
Dusti groaned. “I can’t believe we actually agree on something. Well, I’d better go after him before he winds up losing my luggage. And don’t worry, Princess, your secret is safe with me.” She winked toward Twilight as she left.
Chrysalis waited for the Lieutenant to trot out of earshot before saying, “You certainly have a type, don’t you?”
“Apparently.” Twilight shook her head. “Come on. We should be on our way, too.”
“Don’t look at me. I’m already packed and ready to go.”
“Right. Let me grab my saddle.”
Twilight poked her head back into the cabin. Using her magic, she retrieved her bags and hefted them onto her back. This time, with her magic once again at her disposal, the straps presented no obstacle.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
“Lead the way.” Chrysalis stepped aside, motioning for Twilight to go first.
The duo made their way up toward the helm. Preoccupied with gathering their instruments, none of the navigators noticed them as they slipped out onto the deck. The ship had been secured with over half-a-dozen ropes. The skeleton crew of the shipyard were inspecting the chips that resulted from the hail. Another team of pegasi were hovering nearby, taking measurements of the torn armor.
“They don’t look happy,” Chrysalis joked. Wisps of condensation emanated from her lips, fluttering off into the icy breeze as she spoke.
“I don’t blame them. We kind of made a mess of this thing.”
Most of the soldiers had already taken the gangplank down to the docks. From here, Twilight could see the line of armored ponies leading into the barracks at the edge of the castle grounds. Although she searched for Dusti or Quartz among the sea of metal, she never found them.
“Can we get inside, Twilight? It’s cold out here,” Chrysalis urged. The frost already gathering on her chitin convinced Twilight to hurry.
“Welcome back,” A familiar voice called to them as they traveled down the gangplank.
Standing on the docks, still dressed in his heavy uniform, stood the bulky figure of Shining Armor. If Twilight didn’t know any better, she might have guessed he had been standing in the same spot since their departure.
“Shiny!” Twilight squealed, rushing forward to tackle her brother with a flying hug.
“Easy there, Sis.” Shining took a second to steady himself. “I’m not the spry young stallion I used to be.”
“That’s what the armor’s for, silly.”
“This is adorable and all, but do you think we could take this reunion inside?” Chrysalis begged.
Shining glanced toward the shivering changeling.
“Enjoy your vacation?”
Chrysalis slumped her shoulders.
“Let’s just say that I don’t plan on taking another anytime soon.”
“I’ll hold you to that. She’s right, though. It’s too cold out here.”
Now a trio, they scurried up the same worn path the soldiers had used. As they passed through the barracks, the rousing sound of revelry echoed through the halls.
“They normally celebrate a mission like this?” Twilight asked.
“Only successful ones. So yeah, usually,” he boasted.
Shining accompanied them through the winding corridors. Once they finally arrived at the main hall of the castle, he stopped. Twilight continued a few steps further before realizing how far behind he fell. Glancing back over her shoulder at him, she asked, “Why did you stop?”
Shining rubbed his forehead. “I completely forgot to tell you something. Luna wanted to speak with you – both of you – as soon as you got back. It sounded rather important, so we should probably take care of that, first.”
“Alright, but only if we go to the mess hall afterwards,” Twilight said.
“Deal,” Shining agreed.
“Why does she want to talk to me?” Chrysalis moaned. “I need to go sit by a fire. It’s still freezing in here.”
“I’ll have one of the servants fetch you a blanket.” Shining whistled, summoning a young mare dressed in a maid’s clothes. He sent her off with orders to find the warmest blanket she could.
“I suppose that will do for the moment,” Chrysalis pouted.
“Do you have any idea what she wants?” Twilight asked.
“She didn’t say. She also didn’t look thrilled about it, though.”
“Great,” Twilight groaned. “More bad news. Nothing happened to Celestia while we were gone, did it?”
“No.” Shining beckoned her onward with a flick of his head. It took Twilight a decent way into their journey before she realized he was leading her to the War Room. “She’s still in decline, but we haven’t had any more incidents.”
“Perhaps I’d better skip the mess hall, then. I’ll just have something sent up to my study.”
“I may not be a scientist, but I don’t think you’re supposed to have food in a lab,” Chrysalis chimed in from behind her. “Deadly chemicals and nutrition don’t usually mix well.”
“Fine. We’ll make a quick stop at the mess hall, then I’ll head up to my study. Better?”
“Better.”
The deeper into the castle the delved, the fewer soldiers awaited them. Eventually, the Solar Guard faded out entirely, leaving only shadow-clad thestrals to mark their path. Their winding journey finally came to an end at a solid oak door. Two brutish looking stallions bowed their heads in reverence to Twilight before throwing open the passage.
“I’ll wait for you out here,” Shining decided, gesturing for the others to continue without him.
Twilight and Chrysalis had barely crossed the doorway before the path closed behind them. A sparse brick hallway opened into an extravagant spire, painted gold by the sparse glow of candlelight. Luna sat alone upon a wooden throne, scrutinizing the map of the world carved out in the center of the room. Her sunken gaze snapped upward toward her the new arrivals.
Upon noticing Twilight, the lines of her face softened. The subtle shift struck centuries from the lunar mare’s age. Chrysalis made her annoyance at her summons obvious, slinking past Twilight and into the darkest corner of the room to nestle down. In this case, that meant hiding among the haphazardly stacked supply crates tucked away into a nearby alcove. Twilight slid gracefully into one of the wooden seats opposite Luna.
“Good evening, Princess Luna,” she said.
“A good evening indeed, Twilight. And a fond hello to you too, Changeling.”
The stockpiled crates muttered something in Chrysalis’ voice.
“Don’t mind her.” Twilight waved it off. “She’s not in the greatest of moods right now.”
Luna’s hoof circled the left half of her face, silently tracing three lines over her eyes as she cast a questioning glance in Twilight’s direction. The younger alicorn nodded solemnly. Chrysalis broke the silence.
“She’s asking about the eye, isn’t she?”
“More concerned whether or not you require a doctor,” Luna replied.
“No, thank you. Last time I saw one of your doctors he strapped a torture device to my leg.”
Luna shook her head.
“I am honestly amazed that I missed you.”
“Likewise, Great Princess of the Night.”
Despite the sarcasm dripping from each syllable, Twilight sensed no hostility in Chrysalis’ voice. Luna rolled her eyes, throwing her hooves up in defeat, just as she used to when forced to endure Celestia’s sillier antics. The comparison brought a nostalgic warmth to Twilight’s soul.
The umbral alicorn settled herself and cleared her throat before continuing.
“I suppose we should move on to business, then. There are several important topics that we must cover this night. Some I wish to ask your input. Some I must warn you about. I will try not to take too much of your time, but I make no guarantees.”
“Oh joy.” Chrysalis poked her head out from her hiding place. “I love being crushed beneath the wheels of bureaucracy. Alright, I’ll go ahead and start the first one for you. You want to talk about me, right? Am I to be punished for escaping the castle?”
Luna hesitated briefly.
“You are correct that your . . . unwelcomed leave is one of the topics that I wish to discuss. However, I have no intentions of punishing you for it.”
Chrysalis raised an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“Yes. There can be no doubt that my actions were incredibly dangerous. I nearly cost you and Twilight your lives. I am in no position to blame you for your crimes with a reputation as stained as mine. On top of that, I remember what you did for me. You saved my life.”
“D-Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t do it for your sake,” Chrysalis grumbled. “If you died, I wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with Twilight. It’s as simple as that. Besides, what would your sister think if you got yourself killed over a stupid temper tantrum. You should be embarrassed.” She finished by puffing out her chest and crossing her forelegs grumpily.
Twilight snickered at the infantile display.
“Regardless of your reasons, there is no doubt that you saved my life. Even at great risk to your own. And I intend to reward you in kind. From this moment forward, you are no longer a prisoner in this castle, but a guest.”
“Is that why you had Twilight track me down and bring me back?”
“No. Which will make this next part all the more confusing. Though I obviously cannot force you to stay, I would ask that you remain here for the time being.”
“It only took you this long to finally ask,” Chrysalis snarked.
“There is another reason. And you should know this as well, Twilight. I understand that, during my absence, you oversaw a case in the Royal Court about ponies disappearing.” She waited for a nod from Twilight before moving on. “Several similar incidents were also reported in the days before Chrysalis’ arrival. And every few days, another town representative shows up to deliver more bad news.
Twilight visibly paled.
“Where exactly are these reports coming from?”
“From everywhere. Equestria has had a few. Now, reports are beginning in the Crystal Empire. We have not heard from any of our other allies as of yet, so we cannot be sure if this plague will spread even farther.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Chrysalis clambered out of her box. “You think I’m somehow responsible for this?”
“I do not have the faintest clue who could be causing this. There are many who theorize that changelings may be behind it. Of course, there is only circumstantial evidence linking them together, but that is more than enough for some.” Chrysalis met Twilight’s worried gaze. “I do not think you responsible for this. But your presence is simply another piece of the puzzle that some unsavory elements will try to mold into their story. I know now that you truly have changed. But my citizens do not. If they learn of your presence here, or what has become of Celestia, then I fear chaos may follow.”
“So, you want me to stay hidden?” Chrysalis stumbled back toward the pile, seating herself on the closest crate. Her shoulders slumped as she landed.
“For now, I feel it would be best.”
Twilight wound her way over the changeling, offering a tender touch.
Chrysalis put her hoof over Twilight’s, offering a resigned grin in response.
“I suppose there are worse places to be stuck. But what about Thorax? Has he been made aware of these accusations?”
Luna nodded.
“He has sent word to his hive, bearing the news. Against my advice, he ordered his own investigation into this matter. His drones were already spread across Equestria searching for you. Having them out and about now could prove dangerous, either from a scared pony, or from whatever has been framing them. Given what he has told me, he believes it possible that a rogue group of changelings may be in play.”
“Rogue changelings?” Twilight inquired.
“It’s entirely possible.” Chrysalis answered. “But I was never made aware of any rogue factions in Equestria. Perhaps news of my disappearance traveled farther than I expected, and they’ve come to claim my kingdom for their own.”
“I see. That does put us in quite the conundrum,” Luna admitted.
“Just tell us what you need us to do,” Twilight said.
Luna shook her head.
“No. You and Chrysalis have another task before you. If Equestria is going to bear the full force of these events, it needs a strong leader. We need Celestia.”
A knock at the chamber door stilled their conversation.
“Princess Luna?” Shining’s voice reverberated through the door. “May I enter?”
“You may, Captain.”
The hinges creaked as Shining Armor stepped inside. A thick woolen blanket had been draped over his back. The trio watched as he sauntered his way to Chrysalis, bowing his head and offering the blanket to her.
“Thank you,” Chrysalis acknowledged, swiping her gift and twirling it over her shoulders like a cape. Even with the blanket warming her, she still shivered.
“Is that all, Shining?” Luna asked patiently.
“I’ll make it quick.” He turned to his little sister. “I’m sorry to disrupt our plans, but word is that Cadence is searching for me.”
“It’s fine.” Twilight waved him off. “We can just talk over supper tomorrow.”
Shining opened his mouth to respond, but couldn’t find the words. He glanced toward Luna, begging her to intercede.
“I was just getting to that part.”
Twilight’s gaze bolted back and forth between her brother and the princess.
“Shiny? What part?”
Shining Armor cleared his throat.
“I don’t think our dinner plans will work out. Me and Cadence are returning to the Crystal Empire tomorrow afternoon.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “And I don’t think we’ll really have much free time between now and then.”
“Oh,” Twilight muttered.
“Shining Armor. I did terrible things to you and yours, but I will not allow myself to regret the things I’ve done.” Chrysalis peered at Twilight, who nodded solemnly. “Having said that, I, too, look forward to the day we might set our differences aside.”
She reached out, taking his hoof in her own.
The two locked together in a single, firm shake.
“It’s been an interesting time, Chrysalis.”
“Same to you.”
Shining released his grip. Next, her moved on to his sister.
“Then I guess this is goodbye for now.”
“I’ll stop by in the morning. To send you off.”
“Of course.”
Then, he bowed to Luna.
“Princess Luna.”
“I shudder to think what might have happened had you and Cadence not come to our aid. Thank you, Captain Armor. I eagerly await the day we see one another again.”
And with that, the armored stallion took his leave, disappearing back out into the hallway from which he came. Even after he left, Twilight simply stared at the door, as though her mere observation would drag her brother back. She didn’t turn away until she felt the soft touch on her shoulder. Chrysalis had drawn the blanket over her shoulder, pulling her tightly into the changeling’s embrace.
“Thank you,” Twilight whispered.
“My pleasure.”
Chrysalis pulled the sheet tight, sealing the two in a robe of fluffy contentment.
Luna was the first to break the silence of the moment.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Twilight.”
“It’s alright. I knew he couldn’t stay here forever.” She nodded eagerly. “Besides, I’ve got my own work to see to. While I was gone, I formed a few theories of why my cure didn’t work. I’ll begin modifying it as soon as we’re done here.”
“That is great news indeed. As always, the full wealth of Equestria is at your disposal.”
“If I might ask something, though?”
“Ask away.”
“Have any of the other groups reported anything?”
Luna shook her head.
“No. Nothing.”
Chrysalis took it from there.
“Did you expect them to, Twilight? This is Changeling magic we’re talking about. And on top of that, most changelings wouldn’t know of or be capable of such a feat.”
“Which means it falls on us to get this done. Don’t worry, Luna, we won’t let you down.”
“I know.”
Twilight shifted the blanket off of her, rising from her seat.
“Is there anything else we need to know?”
Luna pursed her lips.
Twilight could almost see the gears turning.
“No,” The elder alicorn finally decided. “That is enough for tonight.”
“Then we’ll be on our way. If you need us, we will probably be up in my study. Are you ready, Chrysalis?”
The changeling groaned as she dragged herself up off her crate.
“Twilight, one final bit of advice, if I may?” Luna asked.
“Of course, Princess.”
“Remember to take care of yourself. I know there is a great deal of pressure on you, but you must be strong. Come what may, remember that Equestria stands behind you.”
“I will. Thank you, Princess Luna.”
Twilight turned the handle, leading her companion back out into the hallway. The two thestrals guarding the room bowed as they passed. They continued on, side-by-side as they wormed their way through the corridors of the castle.
Chrysalis studied their path as they went. The golden archways and polished marble flooring were nothing like the homes she was used to. But she could deny it no longer. Even with the short time she had spent here, there was a certain element in the air. Something that made it feel like home, though she couldn’t decide what.
Perhaps it was the scent of lavender wafting from the planters that lined the walls. Or perhaps from the ornately carved stone that met her at every turn. She laughed internally. Those answers were a sham, and she knew it.
No. She knew exactly what made this foreign land feel like home: The pony, standing at her side. Or at least, the one that had been standing at her side a moment ago.
The realization she was alone shoved her inner thoughts to the side. She turned back to see Twilight standing still in the center of the hallway, her knees weak and head hung low. With a startling speed, Chrysalis swept back to her companion’s side.
“Twilight?”
“Do you really think I can do this, Chrysalis?”
Rather than answering, the changeling scanned both directions. Noticing they were alone, she made her way to the wall. She pressed her blanketed back against the cold marble as she slid down onto the floor. Her chitin clicked against the tiles as she patted the empty space beside her.
Twilight collapsed onto the spot.
“Do you think you can’t?” Chrysalis asked, running her hoof down Twilight’s back.
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” she growled. “Everyone’s relying on me. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it together.”
“Then why don’t you stop trying to?”
Twilight twisted her neck to meet Chrysalis’ gaze.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just me here, Twilight. We’re alone. You don’t have to hide how you feel from me.”
“I . . . I’m not hiding . . .” As she spoke, tears started to well in Twilight’s eyes.
“I know exactly how you feel.” The changeling removed the blanket from her back, instead using it to cover Twilight. “Struggling to hold on. You worry that if you let go for just a moment, the whole world might fall apart. Well, let me tell you a secret, Twilight Sparkle. It won’t.”
The little alicorn let her defenses crumble. She snuggled up against Chrysalis, sobbing into the sturdy chitin plates. “Everyone is . . . relying on me. W-What am I supposed to . . . do? W-What if I let them d-down?”
Chrysalis hushed the younger mare, caressing her with a gentle touch.
“It’s alright to cry, Twilight.”
“I t-thought a p-princess never cried?”
“And who’s going to tattle on you for breaking that rule? Certainly not me. So, cry. As long as you need to. I’ll be waiting right here.”
And she cried.
All the while, Chrysalis stayed at her side, humming a sweet lullaby as she held the princess in her lap.
The changeling’s world snapped back into focus. She spared a glance downward, at the small purple pony using her crossed legs as a pillow.
“Yes?”
“I think I feel a bit better now.”
Twilight’s cheeks had dried, but the red tint around her eyes told the same story just as clearly.
“I said you would.”
Chrysalis released the pink stripe of Twilight’s mane, allowing the princess to sit up and join her in leaning against the wall.
“You know, I’m usually a lot better at handling pressure.”
“Even the sturdiest stone breaks if you push hard enough. Better to bend a little before the cracks start showing up. Luna should understand that better than anyone.”
“I won’t make a habit of it,” Twilight promised, leaning over and letting her head rest on Chrysalis’ shoulder. “But you never actually answered my question.”
“You’ll have to be more specific. I ignore a lot of your questions,” Chrysalis teased.
Twilight nudged her playfully.
“When I asked if you thought I could do this. Save Celestia, I mean.”
“Of course I believe in you, Twilight.”
“Well, then I guess I’ll trust you, then.”
Their quiet moment shattered with the sound of a growling stomach. Chrysalis cast a sideways glance toward the princess. Twilight, meanwhile, had frozen in terror, her cheeks glowing a bright pink.
“You know, I could really go for something to eat,” Chrysalis decided.
“Me too,” Twilight squeaked, ducking to hide away her blush.
“Then what are we doing sitting around here?” Chrysalis’s wings floated her up onto her hooves. Twilight chose a more basic solution, using the wall to steady herself as she climbed up. Together, the two of them made their way toward the more populous wings of the castle.
Along the way, Twilight made a realization.
“You know, I’m not even sure the kitchen is open this late,” she said, rounding the corner into another seemingly endless hallway.
“Shining seemed to think it would be.”
“The mess hall is definitely open. It’s specifically the kitchen that I’m thinking about. I’m not sure anyone is actually working to prepare food this late in the night. Or . . . early in the morning, I guess.”
“I feel like that’s something you should know. Isn’t this your castle?” Chrysalis asked incredulously.
“You’ve seen my castle. You’ve broken into my castle. Youkidnapped me from my castle for Celestia’s sake. Chrysalis, you know full well this isn’t my castle!” Twilight exclaimed.
“Even so, didn’t you used to live here?”
“Back when I was still working directly under Celestia as her student, I did.”
“So, isn’t the hours of operation for the kitchen something you should know? I feel like that should be pretty common knowledge.”
“Maybe,” Twilight conceded, “But I never really used the kitchen back when I lived here. I had an arrangement to have my meals delivered either to my room or, failing that, to the library. During my late-night study sessions, I always made sure to have a snack ordered beforehand.”
“You took your meals in the library?” Chrysalis questioned dryly.
“On rare occasions when I didn’t eat in my room. Yes.”
“I’m not sure I fully grasped the extent of your nerdiness when I agreed to this arrangement. It might be a bit of a deal-breaker, Twilight.” Her overdramatic tone would have made thespians across Equestria swoon.
“I appreciate the attempt, but you already made that joke,” Twilight said, ignoring the slight. “If you really want to get to me, you’ll have to try a little harder than that.”
“Did I already use that?” Chrysalis chewed the inside of her cheek.
“You did. So, what else have you got?” Twilight challenged.
“Well, I could just call you a nerd?” Chrysalis suggested.
“Real original,” Twilight mused, rolling her eyes.
“Apologies, Princess. I don’t have a lot of experience mocking a romantic partner of mine. Sue me,” Chrysalis huffed, hurrying a few steps ahead. Her snobbish demeanor drew the attention of several sentries down the length of the hallway.
Twilight wrinkled her muzzle.
“I’m pretty sure that you’ve been in more relationships than I’ve had birthdays.”
“Yes, but none of them were . . . you know . . .” Chrysalis trailed off.
“None of them were what?” Twilight asked, her curiosity piqued.
“None of them were . . . real,” Chrysalis whispered, keeping her focus anywhere but on the mare beside her.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. You may think that I’m some sort of experienced love expert, but the truth is, Twilight, I’ve never been in a relationship like this before,” Chrysalis admitted.
Twilight beamed.
“It’s alright. Neither have I. But we’ll figure this out. Together. All right?”
“I suppose we will.” Chrysalis returned her gracious smile. “Nerd.”
“Whatever you say, My Queen,” Twilight shot back with an overdramatic flourish.
“I see a bit of my sass is finally rubbing off on you.” Chrysalis sniffled. “I’m so proud.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Twilight affectionately shoulder-bumped the changeling. “Don’t get used to it.”
The duo shared a laugh as they finally arrived at the grand entrance to the mess hall. The guards on duty acknowledged them as they passed into the great chamber beyond. Despite the late hour, several soldiers were still gathered around the room. They stayed in thin clumps, swapping stories of their nightly patrols.
The guards didn’t even try to hide their contemptuous glares as Chrysalis passed by. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have given them a second thought. With Luna’s announcement, however, these hostile stares left her feeling oddly cold, even beneath her fluffy attire. At the very least, the princess’s presence seemed to be enough to soothe their bite.
“Do they look at every changeling the same way?” Chrysalis wondered under her breath.
“What was that?” Twilight asked over her shoulder.
“Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”
At the end of the main aisle, a trio of ponies dressed in white hats and aprons were doling out meals to hungry soldiers. Their confections ranged from sweet desserts to a rainbow of different colored soups. Each customer left eager to enjoy their overdue dinner.
As the two mares drew close, one of the servers stepped forward. The young green mare smoothed her dirty apron and adjusted her hat before bowing.
“Good evening, Princess Twilight.”
“And to you as well. My companion and I were unable to make it to dinner at a reasonable time. I don’t suppose your crew is still taking orders for tonight, are they?”
“For you, Your Majesty? Of course. What would you like?”
Chrysalis only half-listened as Twilight rattled off a list of ingredients for a salad. Rather, she was preoccupied watching the rest of the kitchen staff sitting in the back. They were gathered around a small circular table, reclining in simple wooden seats. To a casual observer, they appeared to be resting at the end of a long shift. Chrysalis knew better. She saw every tensed muscle, each subtle shift in their demeanor as they noticed the changeling.
Or perhaps she was simply being paranoid.
She supposed it made no difference to her, either way.
A light tap on her shoulder brought her back into the conversation.
“Hmm?” she grunted.
The chef sat silently, her pencil resting against her notepad expectantly. Beside her, Twilight was waiting patiently.
“Are you going to order?” she asked.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” Chrysalis explained.
“You sure?”
“I am.”
“Suit yourself.” Twilight shrugged, turning back to the chef. “And I guess I’ll add a slice of that apple pie you were talking about.”
“Excellent choice, Princess.”
Tucking her notepad into one of the pockets on her apron, the mare made her way back into the kitchen. Without a word, the rest of the crew gathered their things and followed.
“We should go find a seat,” Twilight said. “They’ll bring it out to us when it’s ready.”
The two claimed a section of the benches just off the main aisle. Twilight passed the time resting her chin on the edge of the table. Chrysalis kept her eyes on the far window. With the glare, she couldn’t make out anything of the night beyond. A small part of her wished that the shadows would sneak in through the glass, shrouding her from the prying eyes she could feel boring into her back. Assuming, obviously, that dark tendrils weren’t still waiting there to drag her back into their hellish nightmare.
It only took a few minutes before a server arrived, balancing Twilight’s dinner on a silver tray. He was an older stallion sporting a thinning grey beard. The same one that had been watching Chrysalis while they ordered.
He set out a rather austere white plate, laden with lettuce, carrots, cucumber slices, and a whole host of various vegetables. A viscous vinaigrette had been drizzled over the top. Beside it, he set a smaller saucer holding a golden slice of apple pie. Each dish had its own fork to go with it. His job complete, the server took his leave.
“Here.” Twilight slid the pie slice across the table.
Chrysalis stared down at the dish offered to her. The movement had caused a few drops of the honey-like filling to spill out.
“You’re giving me your slice of pie?”
“Yeah. I ordered it for you.”
“I appreciate the thought, Twilight, but changelings don’t really eat like you ponies do.”
“I know, but you still can, right? I mean, don’t you eat when you’re undercover?”
“More out of necessity for keeping up appearances, rather than nutrition. Food doesn’t really do much for us in that department. In fact, I don’t think I’ve eaten anything in years.”
“There are more reasons to eat than nutrition,” Twilight argued. She lifted her fork with her magic before stabbing it through a chunk of carrot. “That’s especially true of desserts. Besides, I distinctly remember you eating at Cadence’s wedding.”
Chrysalis took hold of her own utensil, poking at the slice on her plate. “How and why do you remember that?”
“I remember a lot about that day,” Twilight admitted, biting the orange bit from the tip of her fork. “I was following Cadence – or you, rather – trying to find out what you were up to. And then . . . well, you know how the story goes from there.”
“I locked you in the caves beneath Canterlot.”
“Yeah.”
“I . . . uh . . . don’t know if I ever apologized for that.” Chrysalis poked at a piece of apple that had fallen on her plate.
Twilight shifted uncomfortably.
“Maybe we should change the subject.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to tiptoe around me, Twilight. We both know what happened. Neither of us can change it.”
Twilight took a few silent bites.
“So, what were you thinking about?”
“My past failures,” Chrysalis moaned.
“Not right now,” Twilight corrected her with a frown. “I meant earlier when you were talking to yourself. I didn’t quite hear you.”
Chrysalis took the opportunity to shovel a piece of the pie into her mouth. Even as muted as it was, she could feel the tingle of sweetness within. Not sugar. She wouldn’t have been able to taste that. Instead, she tasted the saccharine tang of love. Most importantly, though, the distraction gave her a moment to think.
“I was thinking about Alicorn physiology,” Chrysalis lied, swallowing hard.
“Really?” Twilight raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, really. In particular, I was thinking about a rumor I heard once. Many ponies believe that alicorns don’t eat, drink, or sleep. But I guess those are just rumors after all.”
“Not exactly. See, I’ve done my own fair share of thinking about that myself. Back when I first got my wings, I spent several weeks extensively studying my new form. I also managed to snag a few samples from other alicorns to compare them to. I actually found out a lot of interesting things. Want to hear about them?”
The candlelight flickered in Twilight’s eyes, transforming them into seas of little stars. The overwhelming amount of child-like energy packed into that look drove a spike of fear into Chrysalis’ heart.
“Samples?” She repeated.
“Yeah.” Twilight speared her fork into her salad, leaving it to stand on its own while she gestured madly with her hooves. “Tufts of fur. Strands of their manes. Things like that. I even managed to snag one of Luna’s feathers without her noticing.”
“I don’t know if I should be impressed or terrified,” Chrysalis said plainly.
“Anyways,” Twilight continued, “I compared theirs with my own, and discovered something pretty cool.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Tell me,” Chrysalis said, hoping she sounded more interested than she really was.
“As you may know, each pony has their own magic that manifests in different ways. Well, alicorns are far beyond any of that. As a combination of races, they have inherited an overwhelming amount of magic into their forms, adding a sort of mystical component to their bodies.”
“Makes sense.” Chrysalis nodded along.
“This component is what allows us to have such impressive magical abilities, such as the ability to control celestial bodies. And since we’re sustained magically, it lessens the strain on our bodies, meaning we require less sleep, food, or drink than an average pony. As we age, our magic becomes stronger, and our bodies become more resilient. This also results in increased size and a complete halt to aging.”
“Similar to a changeling Royal?” Chrysalis pointed out.
Twilight tapped her chin.
“I’ll have to do a few more comparisons before I can answer that confidently. If I might ask though, why the sudden interest?”
Chrysalis indulged in another bite of her dessert.
“I was just . . . wondering if it might have something to do with Celestia’s reaction to your cure. If alicorn physiology is different, it might have its own interaction with my magic.”
“I thought of that, too. I hypothesized that Celestia’s unique form is what kept her alive all this time. But I hadn’t considered the possibility that it might have changed how our cure works.”
“Well, you won’t be able to test anything until we’re finished eating,” Chrysalis reminded her.
“Right.” Twilight retrieved her fork and resumed her meal in silence.
Chrysalis scooped a bit of the crust into her mouth. At this point, she didn’t even know if she was eating because she enjoyed it, or just out of boredom. Regardless, she made sure to finish hers first, meaning Twilight wouldn’t have to wait once she was done.
“I’ll take your plate, Your Majesty.”
The same stallion that had served their food reappeared, snatching their empty dishes and adding them to an already stacked pile.
“Thank you,” Twilight told him.
Without another word, they were back out in the hallway, heading for Twilight’s study.
“You know, for something that doesn’t eat, you seemed to enjoy your meal,” Twilight said, a mischievous smile worming across her face.
“I wouldn’t exactly call a single slice of pie a meal,” Chrysalis argued.
“Fine. You seemed to enjoy your snack,” Twilight corrected.
“Decide what you wish, dear Twilight. Perhaps I simply ate it to keep you from bugging me?”
“You enjoyed it. Don’t try to weasel out of it.”
“I assure you that I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re referring to. I never weasel.”
“I’ll be sure to let Applejack know. According to the kitchen staff, she made it specifically for you. She thought you might need some cheering up after we brought you back.”
“Oh good,” Chrysalis groaned. “At least she chose a tasteless poison.”
“She wouldn’t poison you.” Twilight wrinkled her nose. “Not on purpose, at least.”
“That’s comforting?”
Though she hated admitting it to herself, Chrysalis found her way up to the study easily. The landmarks along the paths were becoming familiar. She recognized a painting of a half-dozen roses that hung on the wall. A vase filled with lavender that stood just slightly off-center on the table. Even markings as simple as chipped edges on the floor tiles. And finally, she met those great white gates that barred the way into Twilight’s study, complete with two solar sentries.
Twilight opened the door with her magic, but stepped aside, beckoning Chrysalis to go on without her. Though concerned, Chrysalis did as she asked. She heard Twilight whisper something to one of her guards, followed immediately by the sound of armor marching off into the distance. Then, a door, closing and locking.
Chrysalis silently debated whether or not she should turn.
“Did you enjoy eating dinner with me?” Twilight asked.
“Well enough, I suppose,” Chrysalis responded.
She heard Twilight’s steps getting closer.
“Was it a filling meal?”
“You know the answer to that.”
She was right behind Chrysalis now.
“Would you like something else?”
“How about you say what you’re really thinking, Twilight.”
Twilight’s steps paused.
“You’re going to feed off me,” She commanded.
“We’ve been through this already. I won’t do it.”
“You have to. You said yourself that you can’t use your magic without feeding. And if we’re going to fix this cure, we need your magic. Unless you thought of another way?”
“No. Not yet,” Chrysalis spat.
“Well, time’s up.”
“Please don’t ask me to do this, Twilight.”
Twilight circled around to meet the changeling face-to-face. “Please. I need you to do this. For Equestria. For me.” She rose up on her hind legs, wrapping herself around Chrysalis’ neck in a tight hug.
“I can’t,” Chrysalis whispered.
Twilight caressed the changeling’s cheek, guiding her to meet the alicorn’s gaze. “Why not? Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix, Twilight. It’s dangerous. And if I hurt you—”
Twilight silenced her by pressing a hoof gently to her lips.
“Do you trust me, Chrysalis?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Then will you believe me when I say that I know you can do this?”
“It’s not that simple—”
This time, Twilight silenced her with a kiss.
Chrysalis battled against her nature. She tried to pull away, but her changeling instincts took control. Her mind grew dizzy, her muscles began to ache. The aromatic taste of love blossomed in the air, burning Chrysalis’ lungs as she struggled to deny herself the privilege of a single drop. But she couldn’t fight the inevitable forever. Like a starving beast, she pinned Twilight to the floor, refusing to let their lips part. The smaller mare squirmed, but made no attempt to escape.
Rather, time slowed to a crawl as Twilight’s thoughts fled and her senses failed. Reality itself drifted away as the corners of her eyes grew dim. Silence overtook everything save for the sound of her heartbeat hammering in her ears. Her stomach twisted and turned on itself. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice screamed at her to fight back. To flee. To do anything but lie here and play victim to a predator like Chrysalis.
But she didn’t care. Over everything else, Twilight felt a sense of euphoria. Nothing mattered anymore except for the two of them, tangled together on the scratchy rug, enveloped in a green haze. She could feel Chrysalis’ warm breath. With each eager gasp, the pony slipped further away.
Twilight stared at the vaulted arches that lined the ceiling. Those alabaster designs seemed so far away, so foreign to her dazed mind. She pushed herself to move, but the weight of her limbs kept her nailed to the floor. All she could do was lie still and let her body breathe for her. Each rise and fall of her chest did little to silence the ear splitting roar of her pulse.
“Chrysalis?” she rasped.
Her throat felt like a desert, parched beneath the midday sun. The dryness only exaggerated the coppered taste in her mouth. If she had the strength for it, she would have rolled over and emptied her stomach on the long red rug.
“Chrysalis, you there?” she tried again.
“I’m here, Twilight.”
The voice came from the direction of the door. Unfortunately, Chrysalis seemed to be faring no better. Her words were agonized and muffled. Twilight tried to twist her head enough just to spot a glimpse of the changeling, but even that proved too much of a strain for her aching body.
“You alright?” Twilight asked.
“I’m not sure yet.”
It felt like hours before the slightest hint of feeling poured back into her. She reached for the ledge of a nearby table. As soon as she felt confident enough, she pulled hard, summoning just enough strength to lift her to a seated position. Her firm grip kept her upright amidst the spinning room. As soon as Equestria stopped spinning, Twilight scanned the room for Chrysalis. The changeling mare had put a fair few feet of distance between the two of them. She stood with her back toward Twilight. Three of her legs were bowed inward. A stiff breeze would have been enough to send her tumbling over. Her remaining hoof was searching her face. Only when Twilight’s vision cleared further, did she see the red line trickling down Chrysalis’ chitin-clad chin.
“You’re bleeding,” Twilight said calmly.
Chrysalis only continued to wheeze.
The lack of a response only built Twilight’s determination. Psyching herself up, she dragged her body up to a standing position, leaning on the table for support. She stood on shaky legs, but she stood, nonetheless. She battled relentlessly for every inch she traveled. The implements on the table rattled as she stumbled forward. A handful of vials rolled off the edge, shattering on the floor and spilling their multicolored contents. Twilight would berate herself later. For now, she outstretched her hoof toward Chrysalis.
“Don’t touch me,” the changeling shrieked. She scampered out of Twilight’s reach, toppling a table and scattering a stack of parchment in her haste.
“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, recoiling.
“I . . . I need to go.”
Chrysalis moved for the door. She didn’t bother with the lock, simply slamming into the door hard enough to knock it off its hinges. The sound of her steps quickly faded into the distance, along with the ringing echo of shattering glass.
Attempting to follow, Twilight lunged toward the wrecked doorway. In her desperation, she released her crutch. The sudden surge of adrenaline only added to her dizziness, sending her spiraling back down onto her knees. The jerky motion brought with it a fresh wave of nausea. The taste of bile told her she wouldn’t be so lucky with her second bout. She doubled over, her mind focusing on scientific equations and formulas while her body added yet another stain to the carpet.
Luna’s going to have a field-day with this . . .
An icy dread gripped Twilight as she blacked out.
“Lady Chrysalis? Is everything—”
Chrysalis shoved past the guard, knocking him over and sending his spear clattering across the floor. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t stop to apologize. Instead, she kept her focus only on the door at the other end of the hallway. She really hoped it was the right one.
Without slowing, she shoulder-checked the frame. A series of startled yelps exploded from the other side. She didn’t bother waiting for the room’s inhabitants to answer, instead making a beeline for her own door. As she galloped away, she heard the tell-tale creak of hinges, followed by an annoyed, “What in tarnation is all the commotion?”
That would do.
With that taken care of, Chrysalis bolted toward her room. This time, she had the decency to use the handle before bashing through. She kicked the door closed behind her, a shaky hoof sliding the lock shut. As she crawled into the bathroom, she finally allowed herself to breathe.
Swaddled in the dark, she turned the handle of the sink faucet and plunged her head beneath the stream. The shock of freezing water cleared her head almost instantly. She parted her lips, allowing the flow to rinse the blood from her fangs while numbing the crimson tear in her tongue. She didn’t hear the soft knock at the door.
“Chrysalis, Darling? Is everything alright?”
Darling? The unicorn. Rainbow? No. Rarity.
“What did she say?”
That one was Rainbow.
“She didn’t answer.”
“She came sprinting down the hallway like a madmare.”
Pretty sure we don’t know that one. Male. The guard, most likely.
“Where’s Twilight?”
Applejack.
“Last I heard, she was up in her study,” the guard said.
“Take us to her. Now.”
Maybe those girls are smarter than we give them credit for.
“Chrysalis?”
Or not.
“Chrysalis?” Fluttershy called, only barely louder than before.
She turned the faucet up another notch.
“Chrysalis, the others are gone. They’ve gone to find Twilight. It’s just me out here, so will you please open the door?”
The nozzle refused to turn anymore.
“I’m not leaving until you open this door,” the pegasus outside promised. “I’ll stand here all night if I have to. It’s not the first time I’ve had to do this.”
With a resolute sigh, Chrysalis wrenched the faucet to its off position and trotted back out into the main room. On the balcony outside, snow had started to accumulate, reminding her just how cold the night had become. Taking a moment to compose herself, she opened the door, revealing the miniscule form a pale yellow pegasus standing outside. An awkwardly folded grey blanket clung to her shoulders.
“What do you want?” Chrysalis sneered.
“Can I come in?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.
“No. Anything else?”
“Did something happen between you and Twilight?”
“Stop prying.”
“Are you alright?”
Chrysalis’ first thought was to shut the door in her face. She didn’t have the energy to deal with this right now. Not with so much on her mind already. Before she could follow through, a second realization overrode the first.
“What do you care?” she growled.
Fluttershy didn’t hesitate.
“I know that when I’m upset, my fuzzy little animal friends always help cheer me up. I thought maybe you could use a fuzzy little friend to help cheer you up, too.”
“I don’t need cheering up.”
“Oh. Okay, then.” Fluttershy shrank back, pawing at the end of her swirly pink mane. “I just thought that you could use some encouragement. But if you say you’re alright, I don’t want to intrude. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
If it weren’t for the sincere smile that adorned Fluttershy’s face as she spoke, Chrysalis would have taken such an offer as mockery. As the pegasus turned to follow in her friends’ direction, something clicked in Chrysalis. Even as the invite poured forth, she could comprehend neither the words nor their reasoning.
“Fluttershy?”
At the sound of her name, she froze in her tracks, casting a glance over her shoulder.
“You may enter, if you wish.”
Chrysalis stepped back, allowing the door to swing open the rest of the way.
With a skip in her step, Fluttershy accepted, slipping past the shadow-ridden image of the former changeling queen.
“I’ve never seen a fly enter so willingly into a spider’s web,” Chrysalis noted, watching the pegasus canter over toward the couch.
“You know,” Fluttershy began, climbing up to perch on the arm of the sofa, “I think spiders get a bad reputation. I used to care for a spider. Someone had swatted at her, injuring one of her legs. Even so, she used to spin the most beautiful webs.”
“Is that so?” Chrysalis settled into the chair opposite her guest, sinking into the soft cushion. “And what happened to that particular spider?”
“She left in the middle of the night, without even a word of goodbye.”
“Did you ever find her?”
Fluttershy shook her head. “I tried. Turns out, she can be pretty sneaky when she wants to, though.”
“A pity.”
They allowed a moment of silence.
“Do you want to tell me what happened tonight?” Fluttershy finally asked.
“What makes you think anything happened?”
In response, Fluttershy snatched the blanket off her back, tossing it onto the floor between them. In the dim moonlight, Chrysalis could see a dark spot. It looked almost like spilled ink.
“You dropped this,” Fluttershy explained, her tone gentle, yet firm.
“I did.”
“What happened?”
“I . . . made a mistake.”
“What did you do?”
It sounded more curious than accusatory, but that didn’t help settle the maelstrom brewing within Chrysalis.
“I hurt Twilight.”
If she was surprised, Fluttershy hid it well. Nor did the acrid taste of anger emanate from her. Somehow, the lack of emotion made it all the more painful.
“Say something,” Chrysalis snapped.
“Like what?” Fluttershy asked languidly.
“Call the guards. Curse me. Do something other than sit there and judge me.” She rocketed out of her chair.
“That sounds kind of harsh, doesn’t it?”
Chrysalis stepped back. She dropped to her knees, clutching the bloody blanket.
“It’s what I deserve.”
“Is that Twilight’s blood?” Fluttershy asked.
“No.”
“A pony’s?”
“No.”
“Yours, then? Show me.”
Chrysalis found herself a slave to Fluttershy’s commands. She let her tongue slither forth, the wound dripping onto the already stained sheet.
“A bite mark,” Fluttershy noted.
“My own fangs. I . . . I had to do something. It was the first thing that came to mind.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“She . . . she wanted me to feed. She threw herself at me. She thought I could control myself. But I couldn’t.” Chrysalis shook her head. “It all happened so fast. I was hungry, and she was so . . . soft. I lost control.” She trembled as she spoke.
“It’s alright,” Fluttershy cooed.
“It isn’t. I don’t . . . She called for me. Asked me if I was okay. And I didn’t even try to help her. I just ran. I had to get away,” she cried. “I’m sorry.”
“Come on. Let’s go.” Fluttershy said, trying in vain to pull Chrysalis up.
“Go where?” Chrysalis asked.
“We’re going to see Twilight.”
Twilight woke to the sound of snoring. A sound she had sorely missed in the days since she left Ponyville. Her hoof moved instinctively to the side, where it nudged up against warm scales. Spike stirred at her touch.
“Ow. What happened?” Twilight asked to the empty air. While she tried to quell the migraine in her head, she glanced around the room. Her bedroom, she realized. In the dark, she couldn’t see the clock. Given the thin threads of sunlight on the horizon, though, it had to be early morning.
“Twilight?” Cadence appeared at Twilight’s side. “Twilight, is that you?”
“It’s me,” Twilight replied, trying to sit up.
Cadence gingerly took her by the shoulder, holding her steady.
“Easy, Twilight.”
“I’m alright,” Twilight groaned, rubbing her aching temple. “I feel like I got hit by a wagon, though.”
“I’d imagine. Do you remember anything?”
Twilight searched her memories.
“I was in my study with Chrysalis. We were—”
Her eyes snapped wide.
“Calm down, Twilight.”
“Where’s Chrysalis?”
“She’s in her room.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s in far better shape than you were,” Cadence explained. “You’ve been out cold for a few hours, now. We were worried you wouldn’t wake up. She . . . she told us what happened.”
“Is she mad?”
“We’ll talk about all that later. For now, let’s just be happy you’re alright and take this one step at a time. Do you want to try to stand?”
Twilight nodded.
With Cadence’s aide, Twilight eventually shuffled out of bed. She made sure not to disturb Spike, leaving him curled up in the corner of the mattress. She leaned heavily on her sister’s shoulder as the two of them made their way into the hallway outside.
To her amazement, a small crowd had gathered to wait for Twilight. Applejack and Rainbow Dash stood off to the side, engaged in a debate that Twilight couldn’t hear. Rarity had forced some unlucky guard to haul a desk into the passage where she worked on her designs. Pinkie Pie was passing out trays of various sweets to the congregation. Each of their tasks fizzled out when they heard the creak of door hinges.
“Good morning, everyone,” Twilight said, flashing a nervous smile.
Applejack took up Twilight’s other flank, joining Cadence in keeping her upright, despite Twilight’s assurances that she didn’t need help.
“We were so worried about you, Darling,” Rarity chimed.
“We thought you’d never wake up,” Pinkie cried, lunging forward for a hug.
“Calm down, Pinkie. We don’t need to be adding to her injuries,” Applejack said, blocking the pink mare from reaching her intended target.
“Sorry to make you guys worry about me,” Twilight apologized.
“We’re all just glad you’re alright.” Rainbow floated by overhead. “You looked pretty rough when we pulled you out of your lab.”
Twilight frowned, her cheeks burning red.
“I heard. I should probably apologize to whoever got stuck cleaning the place up.”
“Isn’t that just like you, Twilight. Almost died, but she’s still more worried about the folks cleaning up the mess,” Applejack chuckled.
The rest of the group chimed in with laughs of their own.
Twilight scanned the gathered faces.
“Where is everyone else?” she asked.
“Fluttershy and Shining are with Chrysalis,” Cadence explained.
“And Luna?”
“She stopped by hourly to check on you. She’ll be glad to know everything turned out okay.”
A door opened at the end of the hallway. Chrysalis’ door, specifically. Out stepped Fluttershy and Shining Armor. They made it halfway across the room before noticing the crowd gathered around a certain purple pony.
“Twily!” Shining Armor shouted, rushing toward his sister.
Applejack moved to intercept again, but Twilight slipped free, meeting him halfway. The two clashed in an embrace.
“How you doing, Sis?” he asked.
“I’m alright. I promise,” Twilight answered.
“You really had me going for a little bit, there,” Shining admitted. she could feel his tears soaking into her fur, causing her own eyes to water.
“And leave you and all my friends behind? Never,” Twilight said, squeezing her brother.
The sound of stepping hooves drew focus to Fluttershy. She, too, was smiling. Behind those pearly whites, though, was a solemn pain.
Fluttershy waited for Shining to release his sister before taking her turn with the princess.
“Welcome back,” she whispered.
“How is she?”
“I think you’re better off seeing that for yourself,” Fluttershy lamented, stepping aside to let Twilight see Chrysalis. The changeling stood at the back of the group, unable to meet Twilight’s gaze. The princess tried to step forward. When she did, Chrysalis shuffled back. At a stalemate, they waited, allowing the silence to fester.
“Girls!” Cadence called out, “Why don’t we give these two some privacy?”
At the princess’ command, the party scattered back to their rooms or to their daily chores, leaving only Twilight and Chrysalis standing alone in the empty hallway.
“Chrysalis—”
“I nearly killed you, Twilight Sparkle.”
“You—"
“I told you it was dangerous. I told you not to do it. But you didn’t listen to me. And it nearly cost you everything. Do you understand how close you came to the edge of that abyss?”
“Hey, I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“Don’t give me that crap, Twilight,” Chrysalis barked, tears starting down her cheeks. “I lost control! I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t stop.”
Twilight’s ears flattened.
“I’m sorry, Chrysalis.”
“I thought I killed you.”
Twilight took another experimental step. This time, Chrysalis didn’t flinch.
“I know it was dangerous—”
“Dangerous doesn’t begin to cover it!”
“But we needed your magic.”
“You don’t get to lie to me, Twilight. Not now. Not after everything that happened. I felt your emotions when you kissed me. I know why you did it. And . . . ”
Chrysalis broke down.
Twilight comforted her, nuzzling her neck, while holding her tightly.
“And I’m sorry, Twilight.”
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
“I should have told you what would happen. I should have made you understand. I knew what you were thinking the moment you locked that door. I should have fought. I should have thrown myself through the window to get away.”
“The window?” Twilight asked, chucking as her own tears began.
“But I didn’t. Because somewhere, deep down, I wanted it. I needed it.”
“Hungry ponies do crazy things. I assume hungry changelings are similar.”
“Not because I was hungry, Twilight. Because it was you. I wanted you.”
“Me?”
“I love you, Twilight. But I have to fight it, constantly. Changelings aren’t meant for love. We’re meant to prey. To consume. To destroy. When you asked me to feed off you, I wanted to. More than anything in the world. But if I give in to that want, I’ll hurt you. Just like I did. It’s the way I am.”
“I didn’t know.”
“It’s why changelings don’t fall in love, Twilight. It’s why we keep our emotions constantly suppressed. When you kissed me, it was like lighting the fuse on a cannon. I want to be with you, Twilight. But I don’t know if we can.”
Twilight took hold of Chrysalis’ hooves.
“Do you remember what I told you?” she asked, wiping the changeling’s cheek.
Chrysalis shook her head.
“I told you that we would find a way. Maybe this time things got a little out of hand.”
“A little out of hand?” Chrysalis blurted.
“Just a bit,” Twilight confirmed, “But we’ve got plenty of time to figure this out. And we will, someday. Together. I promise.”
“You’re crazy, Twilight.” Chrysalis whispered under her breath.
Twilight leaned forward, planting a kiss on Chrysalis cheek.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright, Twilight?” Shining asked.
“I was sure the last time you asked. I can only guess, but I think I’ll be pretty sure this time, too,” she said. “Besides, the Crystal Empire needs you.”
“The Crystal Empire will survive just fine without me.”
“And so will I, Shiny.”
“I believed that up until last night. I asked her to watch over you and the moment I turn my back, we find you dying on the floor. It doesn’t exactly bolster my confidence.”
“That’s not fair, Shining. Last night wasn’t her fault.”
“It doesn’t matter whose fault it was. It doesn’t change what happened.”
“Look. It was a . . . miscalculation. I learned my lesson. I promised her I wouldn’t try it again, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I hope so, Twily.”
“Captain Armor”
The siblings turned toward the incoming soldier.
“You have something for me?” Shining asked.
“Yes, Sir. Your carriage has arrived and is waiting out front.”
“Thank you, Officer. Please inform the driver that we’re just waiting on Princess Cadence.”
“I can go get her,” Twilight volunteered.
Shining dismissed his underling with a wave.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I still have to say bye to her, anyway.” Twilight threw her forelegs around her brother, squeezing his armor tight. “Do take care of yourself, Shiny. Things are getting crazy out there.”
“I get the feeling things are going to get a lot crazier. I’ll send you a message as soon as we get back to the Empire. Keep us updated, alright?”
“Will do.”
Twilight relinquished her brother. With one last wave goodbye, she vanished in a purple-tinted flash. When she reopened her eyes, she was standing outside Cadence’s door, only inches away from a terrified changeling.
“Hey, Thorax.”
“Twilight?” Thorax picked himself up off the floor. “Sorry. You startled me.”
“My bad.”
She helped brush the dust off his shell.
“Thanks. I assume you’re looking for Cadence?” He nodded to the door.
“Yup. Everyone is waiting for her downstairs. You?”
“Sort of. I’m looking for Chrysalis. And last I heard, Chrysalis was looking for her.”
“Just you?”
“Yeah. I went ahead and sent the rest of my hive back earlier. None of them were too keen on seeing her one last time. Weren’t the biggest fans of leaving me alone with her either, but they don’t have that much say in that.”
“Do you need help looking?”
“No. I’ll be alright.”
“If you say so. I’ll make this quick, then.”
With Thorax’s permission, she knocked on the door. Three sharp raps.
“Who is it?” Cadence sang out from the other side.
“Twilight,” she called back. “Thorax is out here, too.”
“Oh! Give me one second.”
The two young royals sat side-by-side. Thorax clicked his tongue to a rhythm Twilight didn’t recognize. The alicorn, meanwhile, spent her time balancing equations in her head. On second thought, she figured she probably should help Thorax with his search. That way she and Chrysalis could get to work.
“Shoot.”
The suddenness of Twilight’s pout threw Thorax off-beat.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know if my lab was cleaned yet.”
“What happened to your lab?”
“Me and Chrysalis may or may not have demolished part of it.”
“You demolished part of your lab? Like, on accident? What did you do?” Thorax asked. Given the tone of his voice, Twilight wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know. Still, he made no effort to stop her from answering.
“We . . . made a bit of mess when she tried to feed.”
“You what?” Thorax’s voice pitched up an octave.
“I . . . may or may not have forced her to feed off me?” Twilight answered, preemptively ducking away from the changeling king.
“Did she actually feed off you?”
“I think so.”
“Twilight, are you actually insane?”
“Apparently.”
“Do you know how dangerous that is? I’m kind of amazed you’re still alive.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got the speech from her last night,” Twilight groaned. “I already promised that I wouldn’t do it again.” She rose, stomping her hoof as she started to pace. “I don’t get it, Thorax. She’s fed off me before. It left me drained, but never to that serious of a degree.”
“It’s why Changelings don’t fall in love, Twilight.”
Defeated, she plopped back down the floor where she started.
“Yeah. That’s what Chrysalis said, too. That doesn’t tell me why, though.”
“It’s just the way we are.”
“So what then? There’s nothing to be done for it?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Because she loves me.”
Thorax nodded.
“Of course. Even nature itself wants to keep us apart at this point,” she lamented. “Thorax? Am I cruel?”
“What do you mean?”
“Am I being cruel to her? I love being with her. I feel a little warmer and fuzzier every time she’s around. I love hearing her jokes and listening to her sass everyone around her. And I know she enjoys my company, too. But are we just doomed to fail at this point?”
“I still don’t think I understand the question.”
“She wants to be with me. But every time she is, she has the desire to feed. If she gives in to that desire, she’ll kill me. If she fights it, then it’s just tormenting her. Am I cruel for wanting this? For wanting her?”
“Of course not, Twilight.”
“Sometimes, I’m not so sure,”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a handle turning. The bedroom door swung open, revealing Cadence. The princess’ smile turned lopsided as the dreary air of their conversation finally struck her.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“No.” Twilight shook her head. “Can we come in?”
“Of course.” Cadence moved aside, ushering them through and closing the door behind them. “So, did the two of you need something?”
“I had a question for you. I think Twilight’s message is a bit more important, though.”
“Alright,” Cadence shrugged. “Twilight?”
“Shining sent me to get you. He wanted me to tell you that your carriage arrived to take you down to the station.”
Cadence spun around, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Shoot! I didn’t realize how late I was. I’d better hurry up.”
With renewed energy, she began cramming her belongings into a suitcase lying on the bed. “I’m sorry. I was talking with Chrysalis. I must have lost track of time.”
“Then she was here?” Thorax butted in.
“Yeah. She wanted to talk to me about the reports coming in from the Crystal Empire. About the changelings and the missing ponies.”
Thorax moved between Cadence and her suitcase.
“And? What did you tell her?”
“There wasn’t much to tell. Our reports are scattered and unconfirmed. She didn’t seem to particularly like that answer. She stormed off just a bit ago.” She side-stepped the changeling, setting a stack of clothes neatly into her case.
“Well, an angry changeling queen shouldn’t be too hard to find. Thanks, Cadence.” Thorax headed for the door, but Twilight stopped him.
“Would you mind waiting a second, Thorax? I need to find Chrysalis, too, but I’d like to say goodbye first.”
“Sure. I’ll wait outside.”
He vanished out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.
“Twilight? Will everything be alright here without us?”
“You and Shining worry too much. This isn’t the first crisis that I’ve been put in charge of. And I seriously doubt it will be the last. Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal?”
“Let’s hear it.”
“You and Shiny keep your kingdom in one piece, Luna and I will take care of this one. Sound fair?”
“It does,” Cadence giggled. “We’ll miss you, Twilight.”
“I’ll miss you guys, too.”
The sisters both wrapped a foreleg over the other, squeezing each other tightly before letting go. “And be sure that you give Flurry Heart my love. Tell the little scamp that I miss her.”
“I’m sure she’ll love to hear from her Auntie Twilight.”
“Take care of yourselves,” Twilight said, reaching for the door.
“We will,” Cadence promised. “And don’t worry. Once everything is under control, we’ll come right back to help.”
Twilight pulled the door open.
“Oh, and Twilight?” Cadence called.
“Yeah?” Twilight glanced back at her sister.
“Tell Chrysalis I said goodbye, and that we’ll do our best to keep everyone here in the loop on whatever information we manage to dig up. We owe her that much.”
“I will.”
With those final words, Twilight stepped out. Across the hall, Thorax waited patiently, scratching at his shoulder with his antler. As soon as he noticed he was no longer alone, he straightened up, badly faking a shoulder stretch.
“You ready to start the search party?” Twilight asked.
“At least we don’t need to requisition an airship for this one.” He started to laugh, but his expression soured almost instantly. “You don’t think we need an airship for this one, do you?”
“I doubt she could have gotten that far yet,” Twilight mused. “But you were the one who guessed where she would be last time. Any ideas where she might storm off to within the castle walls?”
“Give me a second to think about this.” Thorax tapped at the plate on the back of his head. “If she’s in a bad mood, I would guess she wants to be alone. I’d say we should check her room, but that’s where I came from. If I didn’t cross her on the way, then I doubt she’s there.”
“I came up from the throne room,” Twilight added. “I didn’t cross her either.”
“Well, that limits our choices down a bit. If she didn’t go downstairs and she’s not here, then that means she went . . .” Thorax cast a quizzical look in Twilight’s direction.
“She went up,” Twilight finished.
“To where? We’re at the top level of the castle, aren’t we? You think she might be climbing on the roof? Or maybe she flew down from the roof?”
“Those are both possibilities, but I can think of one place we should look first. Follow me.” Twilight darted off, propelling herself with her powerful wings.
“Wait! Where are we going?” Thorax sprinted after her. “Twilight?”
“Keep up, Thorax,” Twilight called back.
“I’m trying,” Thorax cried between panting breaths.
“What? Oh.” Realizing just how far behind the changeling had fallen, Twilight reared, bringing her hooves slamming down onto the tile. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright. I just wasn’t ready for a race.” He landed behind her, gratefully catching his breath as his wings folded back beneath his shell. “When did you get so fast?”
“I don’t know.” Twilight shrugged. “I guess I’m just feeling a little fast, you know?”
“No. I have no idea what you mean.”
This time, Twilight sauntered off at a more casual pace, leading the changeling king down a hallway he never saw before. “It’s tough to explain. Excited? Anxious? I feel like I can’t sit still. Like I need to hurry.”
“A second wind sort of thing?”
“No. A little less benevolent than that.”
“An adrenaline rush?”
“Closer.”
The halls shifted around them. The white walls gave way to darker wooden paneling. Windows were formed of shards of stained glass, arranged in the image of the royal sisters. Even with the midday sun above, no light could break through the color.
“What is this place?” Thorax wondered aloud.
“The Celestial Observatory.” Twilight explained.
“The what?”
“You’ll see what I mean when we get inside. Just make sure you stay close to me, okay?”
The deeper they delved into the shadowed hall, the fewer fancy decorations greeted them. Paintings on the wall were torn or simply missing. Great stone guardians flanked them as they moved. Thorax had never seen such creatures, either in depiction or in the flesh. They resembled dragons, though far slenderer.
“What are these?” Thorax asked as they passed by.
“Gargoyles,” Twilight answered.
“Gargoyles? Aren’t they supposed to go on the outside of the castle?” The changeling slowed, inspecting the silent sentinel. “And I have to say, I’ve never seen one that looked like this.”
Hearing the distance in his voice, Twilight glanced over her shoulder to see the changeling lagging. With a start, she rushed back to his side.
“I told you to stay close.”
“Sorry. I was just admiring the handiwork. Who carved these?”
Thorax returned to his examination, searching for some sort of signature that would mark the artist. His hunt ceased when he felt a tingle on the nape of his neck, beneath his chitin. He shuddered, taking a large step back from the statue.
“They’re not decorations, Thorax. Don’t play with them.”
Finally, he noticed what had triggered his fight-or-flight.
Silently, the statue’s head had bent down slightly, watching him.
“Is it supposed to be staring at me?” Thorax squeaked.
“This is War.”
“Wait.” Thorax whipped around to look at the second statue. It hadn’t moved yet the changeling knew it was watching him. “They’re real?”
“This is War.” Twilight motioned to the nearer gargoyle. “The other one is his brother, Wither. They’re the guardians of the Observatory.”
“They seem nice,” Thorax cried, ducking behind Twilight. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Sir.”
“They’re not much of conversationalists, I’m afraid to say.”
“We don’t have to worry about them attacking us, do we?”
“No.” Twilight reached forward, running a hoof along War’s wicked stone talon. “They remember me as Celestia’s student. I’m one of four ponies in Equestria they would allow up here. As long as you’re with me, you’re safe.”
Thorax breathed a sigh of relief, wiping his brow.
“Just don’t fall too far behind,” Twilight finished.
“Right. Wait. Hold on a second, Twilight. Weren’t we looking for Chrysalis?”
“We still are.”
“You really think she came up here? She wouldn’t have been able to make it past these guards, would she?”
“They might be big, scary, and eat magic, but they’re not omniscient. You don’t think Chrysalis could have snuck past them?”
“It’s possible, I guess. But why would she?”
“Well, if she’s not here, we’re in trouble. This was the only way she could have gone without drawing attention or passing one of us. Now enough standing around, let’s go.”
Twilight brought him to the end of the hallway, to a simple wooden door.
“It’s less . . . fancy, then I was expecting,” Thorax said.
The princess’ horn burned with magic, producing the click of a lock being unlatched from inside the room. With the turn of a handle, the door swung open.
“What is the place?” Thorax asked, taking in his new surroundings.
“The Celestial Observatory,” Twilight answered.
The room almost appeared normal. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Most of the tomes stored upon them were covered with a thick layer of dust. In the center of the room, several pillows had been pieced together to form a plush nest. A solar insignia was embroidered into each one. To the right of their entry, an obscenely tall door led out to a small stone balcony.
A golden machine was stashed in the corner. With a flash of magic, Twilight switched it on. The ornate crate began to glow. A projector of some sort, Thorax realized. It displayed the sky as it was outside. The sun hung in the middle of the room, surrounded by a dizzying swirl of stars.
“What is this?” Thorax couldn’t look away from the image.
“I told you. This is the Celestial Observatory.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Twilight.”
“It’s one of Equestria’s greatest secrets. That display is far more than a mere image. It’s the controls.”
“The controls?”
“For Celestial bodies. The sun. The moon. The stars. Each of them can be moved with this device, supposing the user has sufficient magic. It wasn’t always Celestia and Luna’s job to take care of that, you know. It’s an incredibly complex magical machine.”
“Seems dangerous.”
“Of course it is. Luckily, it takes obscene amounts of magical power to use.” Twilight switched it back off, plunging the windowless room back into the dim light. “Even Cadence couldn’t manage it by herself.”
“I guess that explains the tight security.”
“It’s only one of many secrets in this room, Thorax,” Twilight said proudly, before quickly adding, “So don’t touch anything while you’re here.”
“Hooves to myself. Got it. I don’t see Chrysalis, though.”
“Yeah. I noticed that, too. I don’t get it. This was the only way she could have gone without either of us seeing her. Unless she broke a window somewhere. But she wouldn’t be crazy enough to go flying out during the daylight by herself, would she?”
“I doubt it. I guess we just missed her, then.”
“I’ll get the guards. We’ll track her down.”
“Don’t worry about it, Twilight.” Thorax bowed his head. “I’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
“I’m sorry,” Twilight said.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Thorax eagerly explained. “I just mean that I’ve been really thinking about our talk. As usual, she was right.”
“About what?”
“Since she arrived here, I’ve been fretting over her as though she were still a little nymph.”
“Don’t listen to her. There’s nothing wrong with worrying about your loved ones.”
“Normally, I’d agree with that,” Thorax admitted. “But with Chrysalis? She’s been taking care of herself longer than I’ve been alive. It’s not wrong to fret about loved ones, but it is wrong to fret about her. She is more than capable. And because of my worry, I’ve been shirking my duties as king.”
Twilight clapped a hoof onto his shoulder.
“You’re doing a fine job, Thorax.”
“It still doesn’t feel real sometimes, you know?”
She flexed her wings, raising them toward her face.
“Better than most.”
“And now, with this new crisis on the horizon, my changelings need me. I’ve spent enough time away from the hive as it is. Will you do me a favor, Twilight?”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to go ahead and start heading home. The next time you see Chrysalis, will you give her a message from me?”
“Of course.”
“Tell her that I said goodbye. I don’t know how long it will be until we can see one another again. And remind her that if she ever wants to come home, her children will be waiting for her. She’ll always have a place with us.”
Twilight nodded.
“I’ll pass that along.”
“One more thing? I-If . . . If she decides she doesn’t want to come home . . .” Thorax sighed. “Whatever path she decides on, I’m happy for her. And you. For what it’s worth.”
“It’s worth a lot, Thorax. Thank you. If you’ve really decided to go, I’ll walk you out.”
Thorax motioned to the balcony door.
“Everyone else may or may not think that I’ve already left. It might be better if I sneak out. Do you mind?”
“Go right ahead.”
The two of them stepped out onto the stubby balcony. Twilight stayed in the doorway, propping it open with a hoof while Thorax stepped up onto the railing.
“Goodbye, King Thorax.”
“Until next time, Princess.” He winked before vanishing in a blinding green flash. Twilight watched the raven soar drop from its stone perch and soar off into the distance.
“Glad to see he’s learning.”
Twilight didn’t have the energy to be startled by the sudden Chrysalis standing behind her.
“Don’t you think it’s rude to let him leave without even a wave?”
“Call it a test. He passed with flying colors.” Chrysalis shrugged. “Besides. I’ve never been one for solemn goodbyes.”
Retreating back into the room, Twilight allowed the door to slam shut behind her. She fumbled her way over to Celestia’s fluffy den, collapsing face-first into the pillows. Chrysalis wandered over to the edge of the pile, watching Twilight with the barest hint of a grin.
“You can never make anything easy, can you?” Twilight groaned.
“And deny you the fun?”
“Your fun gets to be a little much sometimes.”
“So, how did you know I’d be up here?”
Twilight rolled over onto her back.
“Logically. Through the process of elimination . . .”
“That simple? Seems I need to step up my—”
“And because Cadence told me about your chat. Thorax figured you’d want to be alone. This was where I went when I wanted to be alone. Although, I’m not sure how you got in here.”
“The balcony,” Chrysalis said flatly.
Twilight sat up.
“You didn’t break the wards, did you?”
“Wards?” Chrysalis circled in place for a moment before bedding down.
“Yes. The magical wards that kept the door locked. Don’t tell me you just walked in?”
“The door wasn’t locked,” Chrysalis explained. “I just thought this was another one of Celestia’s towers. And with her . . . out of commission, I thought I’d have some solitude.”
“Fantastic,” Twilight lamented, crashing back into and cuddling a nearby cushion. “What else could possibly go wrong?”
“Well—”
“Answer that, and I will blast you out Canterlot farther than Cadence and Shining could ever dream,” Twilight threatened, her voice muffled by the pillow over her face.
Chrysalis studied the room around her. When this had just been another tower, she hadn’t the faintest interest in it. Now that she realized she had in fact broken into the mind of Equestria’s capital, she felt a renewed interest in it.
The books caught her eye first. She hadn’t noticed before, but many of them were written in obscure languages, using symbols she didn’t recognize. From there, she turned to the golden machine. No switches or levers. She assumed Twilight used a specific spell to power it.
Occasionally, she would find her focus drawn to Twilight, still curled up on the floor. More than anything, though, she caught herself on that sunny sigil that adorned Celestia’s belongings. Finally, the question bubbling in her mind rose to the surface.
“These are Celestia’s belongings, aren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“You think about her a lot, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about her?”
“Where do I start?” Twilight chuckled morosely. “She was . . . she is amazing. The day she agreed to teach me was the happiest one in my life.”
“She sounds perfect.”
“In a lot of ways. One night, I got in a stupid argument with her. I don’t remember what we were fighting about, but I remember being furious.”
Twilight rolled onto her stomach.
“Whenever I was upset, I’d come up here to think. I’d look through these old books, hoping to find something new to occupy my mind. On that particular day, something just snapped.”
She stood, making her way over to the shelves. Chrysalis’ gaze followed.
“Whenever things were too rough, I found one particular book . . .” She plucked a red book from the shelf and blew the dust from the cover. “It was the magic manual that taught me my first new spell as her student. But even that couldn’t take my mind off our fight.”
“Twilight, why are you telling me this?” Chrysalis asked worriedly.
The princess was beyond such questions. Her mind dwelled in the past.
“Reading it just made me angrier, I threw it across the room as hard as I could. The spine broke on impact. Pages went everywhere. I remember taking what was left of it and sitting right there.” She pointed to the cozy bed where Chrysalis was still waiting.
“That was the first time I’d ever broken something of hers. I panicked. Hours were spent lying there, agonizing over what she’d do to me. That night, I cried myself to sleep.”
“I woke up before dawn, hoping I could sneak down to my room before Celestia found me. I was too late, though. She was lying beside me, still snoring soundly. I found the book pieced back together in her hooves.”
The flicker of consciousness ignited in Twilight’s eyes.
“When I realized what had happened, my perception of her changed. She became a second mother to me. I know my family loved me. But, as awful as it sounds, sometimes it felt like she was more my mother than Velvet could be.”
She slid the book back into its place.
“Listen to me. I sound like a brat—”
“Did you ever see her as . . . more?”
“I lived in awe of her. She was a goddess.”
“When you look at me . . . do you wish it were her, lying here?”
Twilight’s head snapped toward the changeling, who met her with a steely gaze of her own. The longer the silence dragged on, the softer her chitinous features grew. Finally, after what felt like a silent eternity, Twilight found her answer.
“No. Our relationship was never like that. We were simply Student and Master.”
“You don’t sound very sure.”
“I never gave love much thought. I couldn’t even make friends. Maybe, if I’d met her later . . . But there’s no sense in asking what if.”
“I can’t replace her. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I would never ask you to do that,” Twilight promised.
“But . . .” Chrysalis rose from her bedding. “There is another option. One I can help you with.”
“Why did we come back here?” Chrysalis asked, staring at Twilight’s sigil painted across the door. “I thought we were going to your study?”
“We are. I just needed to fetch some things from my room, first,” Twilight explained.
In the span of her first step across the threshold, the princess set her magic to work. A storm of magic pulled the books from her shelves and scattered the papers on her desk. She hummed quietly as she gathered the materials into a neatly categorized pile on the table.
Satisfied with her work, she retrieved the final piece of her puzzle: the dragon snoozing at the foot of her bed. A shimmering aura enveloped him, lifting him from the cushions and dragging him back into the realm of the conscious.
“Hey!” Spike cried as he somersaulted through the air.
Rather than add him to the pile with the rest of her academic materials, Twilight set the dragon on her back. She waited for him to steady himself before releasing her spell.
“Good afternoon, Spike,” she said with a smile.
“Afternoon?” He yawned. “I guess I overslept.”
“That’s alright. It just means you’ll be well-rested for our work today.”
“Work?”
“Yup. You’re going to be helping me work on the next iteration of Celestia’s cure. We might be pulling an all-nighter if we have to.”
“Are you sure he’s up for such a task, Twilight?” Chrysalis asked.
“Of course he is,” Twilight shot back. “Spike’s my number one assistant. He’s helped me with thousands of my experiments over the years.”
“If you say so,” Chrysalis relented.
“I do.” Twilight waved her horn, lifting the entire stack of supplies from the floor of her room without breaking their formation. “Now, let’s get moving. We’ve got a lot of work to do today.”
Chrysalis could only stand aside as a library’s worth of ink and paper floated by.
“Do you need me to carry something?”
“Nope. I’ve got this,” Twilight chirped.
The princess and her dragon chattered relentlessly as they hauled their materials through the veins of the castle, nearly toppling a vase and knocking a painting off the wall in their unwieldiness. Chrysalis stayed a few steps behind, only occasionally bothering to spare their conversation a listen.
“I went through all the shelves in the lab the other day, actually. It was kind of weird. The maids had all the shelves categorized alphabetically by title,” Spike said.
“I know,” Twilight bemoaned. “I appreciate that they do their best to keep my lab clean, but I can never find anything when they’re done. I tried to explain the system to them, but they just stared at me like I was the crazy one.”
“Well, I went in after them the last time. It took a little over an hour, but I managed to make sure everything was in order for you.”
“You’re a lifesaver, Spike. That will speed this up considerably.”
“I’m just happy to be back. I like Starlight, but traveling with Trixie can be a tiny bit . . .”
“I was going to say interesting.” Spike scratched the scales on the back of his neck. “You know, Twilight, Trixie and Starlight are getting pretty close. You might have to get over this whole rivalry thing with her.”
“I know.” Twilight sighed. “She’s just so . . .”
“Interesting?” Spike suggested.
“Sure.”
They finally arrived at the entrance to Twilight’s study. Spike hopped down from his perch and moved to open the door before motioning the mares inside. When Chrysalis refused to step inside, he tilted his head curiously.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Go on inside. I just need a minute to myself,” Chrysalis explained.
Spike frowned, but complied, leaving the changeling standing alone in the hallway outside.
From here, Chrysalis could see the main aisle of the lab. A cleaning crew had come through, putting everything back in order after the two of them had wrecked the lab. Only a single trace remained to prove to Chrysalis that she hadn’t misremembered: a dark stain on the rug, complement of Twilight. It didn’t seem like the princess noticed. Instead, she was focused on doling out the hoard she brought with her, writing a mental list as she organized.
Sensing the changeling’s lingering gaze, Twilight turned.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Chrysalis said, her voice a whisper.
She shook yesterday’s memories from her mind, forcing herself to cross the threshold. Only to be battered by another realization. She stared at the empty space beneath the window. With a mournful groan, she settled down at what had been the center of her nest. She let her body fall flat, resting her head on her outstretched forelegs.
“I think that’s everything,” Twilight boasted as she surveyed her academic display. “Spike, can you fetch me that academic bestiary. The third volume, specifically. I need that section on manticores for reference.”
“Manticores?” Spike asked, moving swiftly to the exact shelf.
“Yes. Fluttershy made a point about Celestia’s wound being similar to manticore venom. I’ve been using manticore antivenom as a template.”
Spike relinquished the tome, already opened to the correct page.
“You’re sure that’ll work? Manticore venom has a pretty negligible magical basis.”
“It won’t be actually designed for manticore venom. Just a similar method for a basic antivenom. I’ll adapt it for changeling magic from there.”
Despite the passion inherent in their exchanges, Chrysalis had already lost interest. She exhaled quickly through her nose. She searched desperately for something to occupy her mind. Unfortunately, the only thing she hadn’t grown bored of within the hour was that stain. Each time she returned to it, the memories battered her mental dam.
It didn’t help when she started chewing the mending flesh of her tongue.
“What do you need me to do again?” she wondered aloud.
“When the second batch of the cure is finished, we’ll have to test it against your magic.” Twilight’s words were muffled by Spike, fiddling with a mortar and pestle. “It’s the same thing we did last time. You didn’t forget that already, did you?”
“I remember,” Chrysalis growled.
The changeling’s tone snagged Twilight’s concentration.
“That’s . . . good?” Twilight nodded, trying to temper her own reaction.
“I mean, how could I forget. It’s why you needed me to feed, right?”
A vial slipped free from Twilight’s magical grasp, landing on the table with an echoing thunk.
“You alright, Twilight?” Spike asked, catching the test tube before it could roll off the edge.
“I’m fine, Spike.”
“Okay. I think you dropped this.” He handed her the vial.
“I did. Oh no. Spike, I think it cracked,” she said, not bothering to look down at the glass in his claws. “Do you think you could run down to the storeroom and grab me a new one?”
Spike tilted his head slightly.
“I don’t see any—”
“Just get me a new one, Spike. Please?”
“Right.” He backed toward the door, finally aware that he had missed something crucial. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, before slipping out.
Twilight turned the page in her book. The crinkle of paper sounded loud as thunder in the silence.
“So,” Twilight began.
“So,” Chrysalis continued.
“You going to tell me what that was about?”
“What-ever are you talking about?” Chrysalis asked with feigned ignorance.
Twilight recovered her ampoule from where Spike had left it. She gathered powder from a stone bowl, mixing it with a strange ochre liquid before pouring them both into the glass. “If you have something to say, I’m listening.”
“I don’t like being back in here,” Chrysalis grumbled.
“Is that all?” Twilight questioned; her voice remained perfectly steady.
“All of what?”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“Yes,” Chrysalis stated resolutely.
Another long pause filled the distance between them. Each muted second only stoked the flames in Chrysalis’ chest.
“Well?” she demanded.
“Well what?” Twilight’s voice barely constituted a whisper.
Chrysalis jumped up from her makeshift bed.
“Say something.”
The crunch of breaking glass filled the air. Slick shards scattered across Twilight’s workspace. With a huff, she dispelled her power, letting the last few bits fall among their kin.
Unnerved by the sharp crack, Chrysalis flinched.
“What do you want me to say?” Twilight snarled.
Chrysalis stammered.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I screwed up!”
Twilight’s shoulders heaved; her hooves trembled. “I’m sorry for what I did to you . . . for what I forced you to do. I know it was selfish. I wish that I could take it back. I wish I could change the past. But nothing I could say or do will ever erase that. So tell me what to say to fix this and I’ll say it.”
Chrysalis paled.
“I-I didn’t mean it like that, Twilight.”
The princess simply shook her head and sighed. She started gathering the jagged glass, sweeping it into a dustbin that she held at the table’s edge.
“If you don’t want to be here, then just go. I’ll send for you when I need you,” Twilight said. She drew another set of glasses and started her mixture again.
Without another word, Chrysalis shuffled past Twilight, her good eye locked firmly on the floor tiles. She closed the door gently behind her before collapsing against the wall beside it.
“Well, you’ve done it now, Chrysalis,” she muttered to herself.
“Are you okay?”
Her head snapped upward. Spike sat on the other side of the doorway, fiddling with his claws.
“What are you doing here? I thought Twilight sent you to fetch supplies.”
“There . . . there is no storeroom in the castle that has lab supplies. Everything for her lab is kept on the shelves in there.”
“Oh.”
“How much did you hear?”
“I… I didn’t hear anything,” Spike lied.
“Right.”
Spike clambered up from his spot, crossing over to sit beside Chrysalis.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked.
She answered without saying a word.
“I wouldn’t sweat it too much. Twilight takes some getting used to, sometimes,” Spike explained.
“Why are you taking my side, Dragon?”
“I’m not taking sides.” He shrugged. “I’m sure you two will work it out. And my name is Spike.”
“You think so?”
“I’m pretty sure. If not, I’m not sure why Twilight keeps calling me that.”
Chrysalis’ head turned slowly toward Spike. The young dragon looked far too amused.
“That’s not . . .”
Despite her best efforts to keep her stony demeanor, Chrysalis found her lips curl slightly upward.
Spike clicked his tongue, winking as he stood.
“I know what you meant. Look, I might be young, but I’ve learned a lot in my short life. Especially about Twilight. If you ever need to talk, my offer still stands.” He turned and made his way for the door.
“Spike?”
He turned back toward the changeling.
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you hate me? The rest of Twilight’s friends try to act friendly, but I know how they feel about me. Luna tried to kill me. Twice. So why are you being so nice to me?”
Spike tapped a claw against the scales on his chin.
“The first time everyone met Thorax, they treated him like a threat. Discord turned Ponyville upside down. Starlight nearly ended all of existence with her magic. And now they’re good friends. I know everyone else will come around. You just have to give them time.”
Chrysalis didn’t stop him as he turned to leave the second time. The dragon’s words swirled around her head.
Do you actually believe any of that?
“He seemed pretty sure of himself,” Chrysalis mused.
He’s a child. Children are always sure of themselves. You know better than to trust him.
“You’re not helping.”
Are you trying to tell me that you’re going to take him up on that offer?
“No.”
Chrysalis rose to her hooves.
“But there is someone else that I can talk to.”
With determination in her steps, she set off for Celestia’s room.
Chrysalis marched through the door, drawing the attention of the medical team sitting nearby. Doctor Heart sat in his armchair apart from the group, head hung, eyes closed.
“Can we help you?” the nurse inquired. He slipped a bookmark onto the page before setting his novel aside.
“Leave,” Chrysalis ordered, surveying the trio with a hard edge.
Shrinking beneath the changeling’s withering glare, the group looked to Celestia, then to their mentor. The slightest nod from the doctor set them to work gathering their things. Once they were gone, Chrysalis returned her attention to the doctor.
“You, too,” she said.
The doctor raised a bored eyebrow in response.
“I need to recreate the magic I used to wound her,” Chrysalis explained. “I would kindly ask for privacy so I might focus on my magic.”
The doctor looked unamused. He didn’t budge from his seat. Instead, he bowed his head, returning to his sleep-like posture.
“Didn’t you hear me, Doctor? I’m here at Princess Twilight’s command. I don’t think she would take kindly to you interrupting me. Leave me to my work.”
Doctor Heart cleared his throat. Chrysalis waited impatiently for him to speak.
“You have no intention of making this easy, do you? Fine.”
Chrysalis closed her eye, drawing in a deep breath.
“I need to speak with Celestia. Privately.”
She heard the creak of wood and stiff joints, followed soon by a closing door. When her sight returned, she found the doctor’s chair empty. Now alone, she made her way to Celestia’s bedside.
The equestrian monarch had blankets pulled up to her neck. Her already generous size was bolstered further by the layer of bandages, visible even through the sheets. A web of dark veins crept across her face, easily visible in the patches where her fur had fallen away like the last snow of winter.
“Hello, Celestia.”
She didn’t answer, of course. Though a quiet voice in her head prayed the mare would offer some wise words, Chrysalis knew the truth. Still, simply facing down the sins of her past brought her the slightest shred of ease.
“I came to speak with you, if you don’t mind.”
You sound like an idiot.
“I had a few questions for you. Questions that have weighed heavily on my mind these past few days . . . and I could really use your help.”
Even if she were awake, do you really think she’d help you?
“Celestia . . . I need to know why you saved me. At first, I thought it was some sick twisted victory for you. You and yours took everything from me. And when the time came, you couldn’t even let me die in peace. After everything I’ve heard about you, I realize just how far off the mark I really was. But even after all this time, I’m not any closer to understanding.”
Maybe she simply didn’t realize how big a mistake it would be to save you.
“No.”
Chrysalis shook her head.
“You’re not an idiot. You understood the risk you were taking. You had to. I suppose now, it really doesn’t matter either way. You’re in bad shape, Celestia. Twilight is doing her best, but I don’t know if she’ll be able to save you.”
Chrysalis pulled up a chair.
“I’m trying to make the best of the second chance you gave me. I really am. But it’s difficult. Nothing makes sense anymore. It’s all just . . .”
Wrong?
“Wrong. What the hell did you do to me, Celestia? Did you poison me, too? Was this all some scheme of yours? Why? What’s the point of any of this?”
Her whispers grew to snarling barks.
“Was this your revenge? To turn me into this . . . this thing? To make me care about you? To make me sit here and mourn over your pain and the terrible things I did to you? Well, you know what? Your plan is stupid. What about Luna? What about your ponies? What about Twilight? Did you think about them before you pulled this stupid little stunt?”
Chrysalis stared at her hooves through a blurry lens. They were quaking in her lap.
“Do you even care about them? Why did you leave this all to me? How could you be so selfish? Answer me, damn you!”
Her voice had grown to unrestrained shouting.
“You win! Is that what you want to hear? Fine! I admit it. I admit defeat. You win, Celestia . . .” Her words cracked, slinking back down to near silence. “Just . . . wake up. Please. Equestria needs you. Luna needs you.”
Since when do you give a damn about Equestria? About Luna?
“I . . . I . . .”
Say it.
“Twilight . . . needs you.”
Chrysalis broke.
“She loves you, you idiot. No matter what she says, I’ll never be the right one for her.”
The truth reverberated through the empty room. A cloud passed over the sun.
“That's it, isn’t it? It was always you. It was always going to be you. I’m simply what she wants, not what she needs. I’m nothing more than a shadow she mistakes for the real thing. So that’s it. You win.”
Don’t feel too bad. It was never a fair game.
“I’m sorry, Celestia. For everything.”
“Alright, Twilight, everything is set up,” Spike ran a rag down his claws, cleaning the spilled potion off them. “I think we finished just in time for dinner. You want to head down and grab something really quick?”
Twilight stared out the window of her study, watching the moon as it crept over the horizon.
“You go ahead without me, Spike,” she said without turning from the window, “there’s a few things I still need to get done.”
Spike joined her at the window.
“Are you worried about her?”
“No.” Twilight shook her head. “I’m pretty sure Luna’s had her sense knocked back into her for now. I don’t think we have to worry about her.”
“I’m not talking about Luna, Twilight,” Spike said, unamused.
“Then I’m not sure what you mean. Who else would I be worried about?”
“Chrysalis?”
“Why would I be worried about her, Spike? I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Alright. Suit yourself, Twilight. I’ll tell one of the servers to bring something up to your room.” He started for the door.
“Thank you.”
After the door closed, Twilight rose. With her magic, she closed the curtains. She passed through the room eyeing each of her experiment setups before switching the lights off and following Spike’s path out the door.
Instead of making her way down to dinner, though, she returned to her bedroom. It had been empty for hours, leaving only the shadows to greet her as she opened the door. For a moment, she stood on the threshold, hesitant to step forward into the dark.
“Twilight?”
The princess turned toward the voice.
“Evening, Rarity. I didn’t think anyone else would be up here.”
“I was looking for you, actually.”
“Did you need something?” Twilight asked. She hadn’t intended to sound hostile but couldn’t muster the energy for her usual perky enthusiasm.
“The girls wanted you to join them for dinner. I was supposed to invite you, but little Spike seemed rather adamant that you had other plans.”
“Yeah.” Twilight scratched at her mane. “I was probably just going to have dinner delivered to my room for tonight. I’m not really in a social mood.”
“I see.” Rarity nodded understandingly.
“What about you? Why aren’t you with them?”
“I went ahead and had an early dinner. I had set some time aside tonight to catch up on some of my newer dress designs. I’ve been struggling with them lately.”
“You know, Rarity, it was kind of you to come all the way to Canterlot to check on me, but I’ll be alright if you have to leave and get back to work. You girls can’t just put your lives on hold for me forever.”
“Don’t worry yourself about us, Darling. I’ve been known to hit a snag in my work from time to time. But . . . I have been known to get over it quicker with a bit of help from a close friend?” Twilight could swear Rarity was batting her eyelashes.
“I don’t know about tonight, Rarity,” Twilight muttered.
“You have other plans, then?”
“I was probably going to do some reading.”
“Twilight, I’m decently confident that you have read every single book in that room.”
“So?” Twilight huffed.
“So why don’t you come help me figure out some of my designs? In fact, I have a specific dress that I’ve been meaning to get your opinion on.”
“Rarity . . .” Twilight groaned.
The unicorn took Twilight’s hoof in her own.
“I promise that it will just be the two of us. I really need help. Don’t make me beg you.” Her face melted into an adorable pout. After all the years of friendship between them, Twilight still couldn’t tell if the tears gathering in the fashionista’s eyes were real or not.
“Alright, Rarity.” Twilight’s body heaved with a sigh. “I guess I can spare some time tonight to come help you. But I want to leave before the girls come back to the room. I don’t know what Spike will tell them during dinner, and I really don’t want to be fussed over tonight.”
Stars appeared in Rarity’s eyes.
“You won’t need to worry about them, Twilight. I have told them that I am working and do not wish to be disturbed. They wouldn’t dare interrupt me. Which in turn means that no one will even think to look for you there.”
“Your workshop?” Twilight asked. “You want to go all the way down to your boutique?”
“No, of course not. I have set up a workshop down in the guest rooms. You’ll see. So, what do you say? Shall I have company for the evening?”
Twilight glanced back into the dark bedroom and frowned.
“Yeah. I guess that’s alright.”
“Splendid. There’s no time to waste, then.”
Rarity released Twilight’s hoof and cantered off back toward the stairs down to the guest rooms. Twilight took a moment to close up her bedroom tight before following. True to her word, Rarity led her downstairs, to one of the last doors crammed into the corner of the hallway. After a moment of rooting around in her purse, Rarity fished a key from its depths, slotting it into the lock and throwing open the door with a dramatic flourish.
“Welcome to the Canterlot Castle Boutique,” Rarity announced.
Wide-eyed, Twilight stepped into the room. Rather than the drab contents of the cookie-cutter guest rooms of Canterlot Castle, she found herself in a miniaturized version of Rarity’s boutique.
Most of the furniture had been removed from the premises. The exceptions to this were the few chairs set aside as a sort of lounge or waiting room. The rest of the room had been customized completely. A desk was pressed against the far wall below the window. A sewing machine had been set up alongside baskets of thread and bolts of cloth in a rainbow of different colors. Crates bearing a small hoard of gems were set aside as well as a trio of equine mannequins. Wherever a free space remained on the wall, racks of dresses were stored.
“How . . .?” Twilight squeaked. “You’ve only been here for a week?”
Rarity slipped past Twilight, flaunting her finely curled mane.
“I managed to convince a few of the guards and cleaning staff to help me rearrange the furniture. Some of it has been moved from my boutique down on the Strip. Your secretary informed me that this room hadn’t been used in years, so I thought I’d clean up a bit. Impressed?”
“Perhaps,” Twilight whispered.
Rarity twirled around, pointing to the seats in the corner.
“Go ahead and relax over there, Darling. I’ll join you in a moment.”
While Twilight took her seat, Rarity rifled through her desk drawers, gathering sketchbooks and fabric samples from several of them. She laid them out side-by-side on the coffee table.
Twilight briefly surveyed the selection before retrieving the one closest to her. To her untrained eye, the dress evoked the image of a flowing stream. Fine blue silk formed the body of the dress, opening up into layer upon layer of icy veils. To Twilight, the neat rhythm of lace resembled a waterfall.
“This is beautiful, Rarity.”
By now, the designer had returned. Rather than the expected second wave of sketches, Rarity held up a rosy red bottle and a twin set of crystal glasses. With a practiced ease, she filled one and held it out for Twilight.
“No thank you.”
“You sure? You look like you could use a drink.”
The glass didn’t move.
“I’m not sure.”
“It’s a good year,” Rarity promised.
The magic around the glass turned from blue to purple as Twilight reluctantly accepted. Rarity watched, eagerly waiting for the alicorn to try her first taste before moving on to fill her own cup.
Twilight studied her reflection in the red pool. In it, she saw Celestia’s prized student. It showed her every late night she sat alone in her room. A year passed between each ripple. By the time the surface calmed, Twilight spied an old mare. Tired. Bitter. Still sitting alone.
“Is there something in the glass?” Rarity asked.
Twilight snapped to attention, offering a simple: “No.”
“Good.” Rarity breathed a sigh of relief. “I know these glasses are clean. I’ve been saving them for a special occasion.”
By the time Twilight looked back at her drink, she only saw herself. She tilted back her glass and emptied it in a single motion. It tasted as bitter as it looked, with a tang she thought might burn her tongue. In the time it took for the sensation to fade, she held her breath. Of course, she only realized this when she gasped for air.
Rarity’s giggle drew her attention. She sipped through smiling lips. Rather than offer any further judgments, she simply raised the bottle towards Twilight, shaking it slightly. Twilight held out her glass, allowing the other mare to refresh it for her.
“It seems I was right,” Rarity mused.
“About what?”
“You needing a drink.”
“I’m not usually much of a drinker,” Twilight explained, her cheeks already showing a hint of pink. “I don’t really even know why I did that.”
Rarity twirled her glass.
“So, Darling, tell me what you think?”
“I’m really tired of thinking, Rarity. These last few days, it’s just been giving me headaches.”
“Alright then. Let’s try another way. No deep thought. Just look at the picture and tell me your first impressions.” Rarity pointed to the sketch still in Twilight’s hoof.
“Oh. You meant the dress.”
Rarity smiled.
“Yes, Darling. I meant the dress.”
“I like it. It reminds me of a forest stream, gentle and soothing.”
“You like it, then?”
“I do.”
“Alright then. How about . . . this one.”
She motioned to another design, this one a slender black piece. Upon closer inspection of the sample cloth provided, Twilight noticed a handful of glittering gem shards woven into the fabric.
“It looks like the night sky.”
“And as a dress? What do you think of its design?”
Twilight scrunched her muzzle.
“It’s a little short.”
Rarity laughed.
Initially, guilt wormed its way into Twilight’s thoughts, only to be replaced by annoyance.
“Hey, you invited me to help you knowing full well that I don’t know the first thing about fashion, so don’t you laugh at me.” Twilight punctuated her minuscule tantrum with another drink.
“I’m laughing at the irony.”
“What irony?”
Rarity crossed her legs, leaning heavily on the arm of her chair.
“Fashion is a fickle mistress, Twilight. But, as a princess, you actually hold far more sway than you would think.”
“Yeah. I still remember when you made those princess dresses. I wouldn’t recommend trying that again. I’m not sure the boutique will survive.”
The two of them chuckled at the shared memory.
Unbeknownst to the both of them, time marched on relentlessly. After three hours and a second bottle of wine, the duo finally finished scrutinizing the last of the designs.
“So, is that everything you’ve been working on?” Twilight asked.
“Those are the sketches I’ve been having trouble with.”
“I can’t wait to see them. You’ve got me all excited now. But didn’t you say something about needing my opinion for a special dress? Or something like that, at least.”
“It’s more of a side project I’ve been working on. I wanted to save it for last.”
“Well, let’s see it,” Twilight egged on.
“Alright, I suppose we still have some time. Wait here.”
Rarity set her glass down on the side table and headed for the back of the room. Twilight couldn’t help but watch the way she moved. Such an exaggerated swagger meant she could hold her liquor with the best of them, or that Twilight had drunk far more of the empty bottles than she thought.
“So, I sort of cheated,” Rarity said.
“How so?”
“This last one isn’t really a design. But I’d like to hear your opinion on it nevertheless.”
Twilight shrugged.
“I suppose I could offer some advice.”
Instead of another sketch, Rarity returned with a fourth mannequin. Unlike its siblings, this one was engulfed beneath a heavy white sheet, obscuring the dress below. She set it up on the table, the catwalk to their private fashion show.
Twilight squinted.
“A bedsheet?”
Rarity gave a hearty laugh.
“The dress is under the sheet, Dear.”
Twilight groaned.
“I know that. I just meant that I’ve never seen you hide a dress before. I guess you really wanted it to be a surprise.”
“That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.”
“What’s the other?”
“I guess you could say I’m a little embarrassed. This is rather unusual for me.”
Twilight had less than a second to brace herself before Rarity pulled the sheet away. The overdramatic reveal felt a little hollow, once the alicorn set her eyes on what lay beneath. She expected something amazing. Something shocking, even. Instead, the model wore a plain white dress, torn to tatters and stained by time.
Twilight cocked her head to the side.
“It’s . . . a dress?”
“What were you expecting?”
“Honestly?” Twilight considered her own expectations. “The way you built up the reveal, I was expecting some glorious dress that would blow my mind. Or maybe lingerie.”
Rarity returned to her seat, still nursing the remains of her wine.
“As you can see, this is neither of those things,” she said timidly.
“So then, what is it?” Twilight asked.
“It’s a dress.”
“I mean . . . I think the design could use some work.”
“This isn’t one of my designs, Twilight, so give me your brutal opinion.”
“I think it looks more like a rag than a piece of clothing.”
“That’s fair.”
Twilight shook her head.
“If this isn’t yours, then where did you get it?”
Rarity took a nervous sip.
“I was passing through one of the retail shops near the boutique earlier this week. I was desperate for inspiration. This was on their clearance rack, for obvious reasons. I asked the salesmare about it. Apparently, the store had been trying to sell it for nearly a year. They were finally getting ready to throw it out. I told them I’d take it, instead.”
“Why?”
“I know it’s got some . . . issues—”
“That’s putting it kind of mildly.”
“But I’ve never seen another dress quite like it, Twilight. It’s probably the work of some independent designer. Or maybe a piece passed down for generations. I can’t really be sure why, but I just . . . felt something toward it. A fascination if you will.”
Twilight winced.
“I don’t know, Rarity. Do you think it’s even salvageable? It looks really rough.”
Rarity set her drinking glass aside.
“I would argue it is. But it would likely take years of hard work just to make it decently presentable. I’d probably never wear it in public, either. I can’t imagine the fashion world would take as kindly to it as I have. I just can’t bring myself to throw it out.”
“In the end, I suppose the choice is yours, Rarity.”
“That’s what I asked you down here for. I can’t decide. I’m stuck. Am I simply being delusional, Twilight?” Rarity looked to her friend with serious concern.
“I think there’s a very real chance that fixing it could be a waste of time,” Twilight admitted.
Rarity hung her head.
“Oh.”
In spite of – or perhaps due to – the alcoholic haze that enveloped them, the gears in Twilight’s head started to spin. “But . . .”
The designer’s ears perked up, startled, but not unhappy about it.
“But what?”
“But there’s also a chance that I’m wrong, Rarity.” Twilight rose to her hooves. She stepped closer to the dress, inspecting it without ever really looking at it.
“No matter how hard you try, there’s always a chance for this to fail. But that doesn’t mean it’s the only outcome. It might be tiring, thankless work. It might fail spectacularly. There will be hardships at every turn, both your own and from those around you.
“In the end though, Rarity, you just have to decide if it’s worth it.”
“And what do you think, Twilight? Is it worth it?”
The edge of Twilight’s lip curled into a warm smile.
“She is.”
“She?” Rarity asked.
Twilight never heard her question.
“Thank you for the drinks, Rarity.” She started for the door, yelling back over her shoulder: “I’d love to stay and chat, but there’s something really important I have to take care of tonight. Good luck.”
Twilight scampered off, slamming the door as she did.
“I guess she is worth it.”
Rarity, now alone on the couch, drained the rest of her wine with a proud smile.
“You know, Celestia, I’m beginning to feel this conversation is a little too one-sided. This would be so easy if you’d just answer me.” Chrysalis sank further into her chair.
“Do not take it personally. She has not been answering me lately, either.”
Chrysalis’ head snapped to the side in time to see Luna step out from between two bookshelves, spilling out from a pool of shadows far too shallow to hide her.
“I admit, I’m impressed you managed to sneak up on me,” Chrysalis growled, finally noticing the moonlight through the crack in the blinds.
“I try my best,” Luna admitted with a playful grin.
“At least, I would be. If I weren’t annoyed that you were spying on me in the first place.”
Luna’s dark magic slid another chair across the room, setting it on the side of Celestia opposite the changeling.
“I was not spying.”
“Then what were you doing?”
“I received a complaint from Doctor Heart. As it turns out, even his patience has its limit. Especially when his patients are involved.”
“Fine. I guess I’ll just be going then.”
With a huff, Chrysalis kicked her chair back into place beside the window. Before she could leave, chains of moonlight wrapped themselves around the door, sealing the two of them inside. She turned toward Luna, scowling.
“And you have the nerve to scold me for keeping the doctor from his work.”
“I do not recall saying I was here at the doctor’s behest.”
“Then why are you here, Luna?”
“I came to talk with you.”
“I’m not interested,” Chrysalis scoffed. “Now open the door.”
“You need not be so hostile, Chrysalis.”
The changeling gave a nasally laugh as she took a seat on the floor. She leaned back against the door, her gaze cycling between the two princesses. “Last time I was locked in this room, you dragged me into a nightmare. Please explain why I should be calm right now.”
“If I were here to hurt you, Chrysalis, I would not have announced myself.”
“Or maybe you’re trying to trick me? Didn’t think I’d think about that, did you?”
“I did not come here to hurt you. Neither am I here to trade barbs with you.”
Chrysalis sighed.
“Then why are you here, Luna?”
“You are not the only one to visit Celestia like this. Many nights I sit here, asking my sister for advice.”
“And does she ever answer you?” Despite the dripping sarcasm, a piece of Chrysalis buried deep within herself truly wondered.
“No. Not even her dreams are known to me. But sometimes, it puts me at ease, regardless.”
“That’s stupid,” Chrysalis mocked.
“We are not so different, Chrysalis.”
“Funny. Twilight said the same thing about me and Celestia. I didn’t believe her. I’m even less inclined to believe you. So why don’t you just open this door and let me—”
“What are you so afraid of?”
The changeling recoiled.
“What makes you think I’m afraid.”
“Do you worry that Twilight is correct? That you really are more like Celestia than you give yourself credit for? Or are you simply afraid of Celestia? Does she threaten you, Chrysalis? Or is that just what you tell yourself to dull the pain?”
“Are you looking to pick a fight, Luna?” Chrysalis threatened.
“No. I simply want to know what you think about.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“No, that is wrong. It is not me. Nor is it Celestia. Nor Twilight. It is your own reflection that you fear. Is it your own voice you hear calling to you in your most private moments, Chrysalis?”
“Shut up,” Chrysalis roared.
Luna took a sip from her teacup.
Chrysalis quaked. She searched for something to throw, but the room was empty now. The anger in her chest burned, stoked by the imminent realization of just how deep Luna’s words struck. And then, in a moment, her rage subsided.
“Are you ready to talk now?” Luna asked.
“How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“About the voice?”
“Because I hear it as well.” Luna set her drink aside, never once drawing her gaze away from her sister. “Every day, when I lay alone in my bed, the shadows whisper to me. A veritable choir, all chanting at me, mocking me.”
“Does it ever stop?”
Luna shook her head.
“Other times, it grows worse. On some occasions, I still hear the siren call of the Nightmare. It haunts my every waking moment, threatening to drag me back to the monster I once was. In moments of weakness, it offers me solutions. When options run out, it offers me an escape.”
“How do you stop it?”
“If only I knew. What do yours whisper to you, Changeling?”
“For years, I thought they told me the truth. They told me of plots against my reign, of imperfections that would ruin me. Only when I was cast down did I understand that they were wrong. They did not seek to aid me. They sought to ruin me. Ever since I’ve arrived here, they’ve only gotten worse.”
“Did you ever tell Twilight?”
“That I hear voices? She’d think me mad. Perhaps I am mad?”
“I assure you that you are not.”
“Maybe we’re both mad, then?”
Luna chuckled.
“Perhaps. They are our demons, come to haunt us for the wrongs we inflicted upon the world. Are they the ones that taught you to call yourself a monster?”
“Yes.”
A moment of silence passed between them, broken only by the chirping of crickets from the gardens outside.
“Chrysalis, might I confide in you a personal matter?”
“Who would I gossip to? I only speak to you and Twilight.”
“Twilight is the one I seek to hide it from.”
Chrysalis raised an eyebrow.
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“When Twilight released me from the Nightmare’s hold, I could not escape the guilt for all the terrible things I had done as Nightmare Moon. That night was the first time I heard the voices. They told me of the things my sister’s ponies whispered in secret. It told me that they cursed my name. That they hated me for the horrors I had inflicted.”
“Did they?”
Luna tilted her head slightly.
“One night, I tried to go out among them, to share in their celebrations. But no matter what I tried, they fled from me. They feared me as the creature I once was. To this day, I still wonder if that fear exists within them, if they are simply waiting for me to turn again. But there was a single pony that refused to flee from me.”
Chrysalis smirked. She didn’t have to give it a second thought.
“Twilight?”
“Of course. She came to me, offered me her friendship. She taught me how to fit in with my subjects. She taught me that I wasn’t the monster I used to be, even if the Nightmare still remained a part of me.”
“That definitely sounds like her,” Chrysalis agreed.
“But Twilight taught me something else. Something far more important, though I doubt she even realized it. From her, I learned why I heard such awful things.”
“And?”
“I was afraid. Believing them was easier on my mind than fighting against them.”
Chrysalis frowned.
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“I knew they told me lies, Chrysalis. Somewhere deep down, I knew my ponies did not hate me. But there was always a seed of doubt within me. I let myself believe that they hated me, because it was easier than then taking the chance and finding that they really did. My doubt was a crutch that I had spent far too long relying on.”
Chrysalis chewed on her cheek.
“That doesn’t help.”
“What is it that you are afraid of, Chrysalis? Do you really worry that Twilight thinks you a monster? Do you honestly think that someday, just out of the blue, that Twilight will suddenly realize that you were the wrong choice? Is it for her health that you refuse to open up to her?”
Something clicked.
“No.”
“Then what are you afraid of, Chrysalis?”
“That she’ll learn the truth.”
A cold chill settled over the room.
“And now? Do you have your answer?”
Chrysalis nodded.
“I do.”
A heavy knock on the door roused Chrysalis from her slumber.
“Come in,” Chrysalis called out, stifling her yawn. She stretched her body as far as the chair would allow, listening to the click of her chitin as the plates popped into place.
Doctor Heart stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He approached the lounging changeling, the limp in his hind leg more pronounced than usual.
Chrysalis rubbed her eye.
“What happened to you?”
“Been laying on the floor out there for the last hour,” he grumbled. With his magic, he snatched the bag from beneath her chair, opened the latch, and started digging inside. “Every so often, my body likes to remind me how old I really am. How about you?” He glanced toward Celestia. “Get the answers you were looking for?”
She shrugged.
“I suppose I did.”
He removed a container of pills from his bag. With a flick of his horn, he popped off the top, spilling out a single red capsule into his hoof.
“Good.”
She watched him swallow the pill.
“You know, Doctor, I don’t know if I ever properly thanked you for what you did for me. I don’t know if I’d be here without you.” Chrysalis shifted her weight, making it easier to lean on the armrest of her chair.
Under Chrysalis’ watchful gaze, he crossed over to Celestia’s side, checking her vitals on the monitors around the room.
“You didn’t? Never noticed.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” Chrysalis chuckled. “How is she?”
“Same as she was yesterday. Same as I’m sure she’ll be tomorrow.” He started unraveling the bandages from Celestia’s side, inspecting them as he went. “Unless, of course, Princess Twilight’s new cure does its job. At least, that’s the rumor going around.”
“She’s got the whole castle abuzz, doesn’t she? I couldn’t tell you anything else. She was still working on it when I left today. She seemed rather confident in it, though.”
He nodded.
“She’s a smart kid. I’m sure she figured it out.”
“Worried you’ll be out of a job?” Chrysalis asked through a smirk.
“Out of a job?” He gave a short, singular laugh. “The day Canterlot doesn’t need me anymore will be the greatest day of my life.”
“Don’t start celebrating just yet, Doctor. You’ve still got plenty of work ahead of you.”
“Speaking of which.” Doctor Heart retrieved a new roll of cloth from his bag and inspected it. “You might want to start heading out. This next part isn’t for the faint of heart.”
Chrysalis stood and started for the door. She turned the handle but hesitated in opening it. With a smile on her face, she glanced back at the doctor, still fumbling with his wrap. “Thank you, Doctor Heart. For everything you’ve done.”
He grunted in response.
Chrysalis left him to his work. Out in the hallway, the three nurses were snoring on the floor, their heads resting on their hooves. Eager to be away before the doctor woke them, she fled towards Twilight’s bedroom. Shackling her nerves, she raised her hoof to knock. Then a strange sight held her still: her own room’s door, open wide to the world.
She glanced back and forth between the two doors. Reluctantly, she stepped away and continued down toward her quarters. Inside, the lights were off, blinds were pulled tight, leaving the room in complete darkness. From somewhere in the shadows, someone sobbed quietly.
“Hello?” Chrysalis called, stepping cautiously through the doorway.
No response.
Her instincts kicked in. She closed the door behind her, turning the handle to keep it silent. Without light interfering from outside, her vision adjusted. Pitch black turned to muted gray. Armed with her changeling instincts, tracking came easily. She followed the sound to the bathroom, where she found a mare curled up on the floor.
“Twilight?” she asked.
“Yeah?” The tearful alicorn lamented.
“What are you doing?”
“I was looking for you.”
“Here?” Chrysalis glanced around at their cramped surroundings. “On my bathroom floor? Crying?”
“Yeah,” Twilight muttered, wiping her nose with a foreleg. “I thought you left again. I don’t remember why, but this seemed like the best idea at the time.”
“Right.” Chrysalis offered a hoof to the alicorn. “Give me your hoof. We need to talk.”
Twilight reached out and took the offering. Chrysalis hauled her up, but the princess couldn’t catch her balance. From here, Chrysalis could smell the wine on her breath. Suddenly, this episode didn’t seem so out of place.
“I know we do. I want to go first. I’m really sorry about what I said today. I was completely out of line. I didn’t know what to do. You were upset and I . . . I’m sorry. I just want you to know that before you decide.”
With Chrysalis’ assistance, Twilight stumbled over to the bed. It took her a few attempts, but she finally managed to sit on the edge. The moment she was unaided, though, she toppled back onto the mattress.
“You don’t need to be worried. With the help of a . . . a friend, I did some soul-searching of my own tonight. That’s what I wanted to talk about. I realize now that I’ve been lying, Twilight.”
Twilight prodded at the red rings around her eyes.
“About what?” she asked.
“About us.” She sighed. “But we should probably wait until morning, when you’ve sobered up a little. You can sleep in here, tonight.”
With that, Chrysalis made to leave. She was halfway to the door when something stopped her. She glanced back to see Twilight’s magic wrapped around her moss-blue tail. She stared at Twilight expectantly. The princess had wormed her way over to the edge of the bed, leaving a generous space on the sheets.
“This bed is cold.”
“Then add another blanket. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“If you wait until morning, I’ll be all grumpy again.”
“It’s important, Twilight. Not something I want you to remember in a half-drunken stupor.”
Twilight said nothing, motioning to the empty half of the bed.
With a resigned sigh, Chrysalis relented and returned to the bed. She positioned herself until she could see nothing but the wall. Despite her efforts to ignore it, she could feel a gaze boring into her back.
“What did you lie about?” Twilight inquired.
“Just go to sleep, would you?” Chrysalis pleaded.
She groaned as Twilight draped herself over the changelings’ larger frame.
“Tell me.”
Chrysalis buried her head deeper into the pillow.
“When I realized you . . . felt something for me, I thought I was crazy. When I realized you really did have feelings for me, I thought you were just toying with me, trying to get me to help or to reform me. Then I realized that you were being serious. Then I thought you were the crazy one. You were so kind to me. Even after everything I did to you. I had never felt anything like that before. I felt happy. I felt wanted. And it scared me, Twilight.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Twilight sank back down to the bed. She pressed her back against Chrysalis’.
“It was the fact that I was starting to reciprocate those feelings that scared me,” Chrysalis continued. “I ruled my changelings with an iron grip. I never had to win their love. But you were different. And the closer you wanted to get to me . . . the more I panicked.”
She dabbed the corner of her eye with the corner of her pillow.
“I tried to open up to you, Twilight. I really did. But every time I tried, I came up with another excuse to keep away from you. I told myself that you were better off without me, that someday you’d realized what a beast I was and hate me for it. At one point, I even convinced myself that it would be easier to forget about all of this.”
Twilight’s weight shifted again, exposing Chrysalis’ back to the chilly bite of evening.
“I made all of these excuses because it was easier than the truth - than fearing I would screw this up. I knew someday I’d say the wrong thing, make the wrong joke. And you would realize that I didn’t really change. You’d hate me for it. And I’d have ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. I couldn’t take that chance.”
“You were scared of me?” Twilight said.
The world came back into focus. Twilight had circled the bed to meet Chrysalis face-to-face.
“I was.”
“It can be scary to open up like that. Especially if you’ve never done it before.”
Chrysalis scooted away from the edge, creating a new space for Twilight. She smiled as she tucked herself in beside the changeling, feeling the cold touch of her shell.
“I know now that I made a mistake. There’s still every chance I’ll screw this relationship up. I know that.”
“I used to be the same way. But a few good friends showed that sometimes, the bonds you make are worth it.”
“And I’ve decided that you’re worth it, Twilight. You’re worth facing my fears.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
They embraced beneath the covers.
“And that led me to make another decision,” Chrysalis said. “About us.”
“And that is?” Twilight inquired excitedly.
“Something I should have shared with you a long time ago.”
Twilight cupped Chrysalis’ chin, forcing the changeling to look at her.
“I trust you, Chrysalis.”
“I-I should warn you though,” Chrysalis stammered. “It might hurt a little. I–”
Twilight leaned forward and kissed her marefriend.
The rosy taste of wine on Twilight’s lips only sweetened the swirl of emotion whirling around them. Emboldened by Twilight’s forwardness, Chrysalis broke away.
“I said I trust you,” Twilight repeated. “Do it.”
Chrysalis took a deep breath to quiet her mind. She leaned forward this time. Twilight closed her eyes, readying for another kiss. Instead, she felt Chrysalis’ warm breath across her neck. The changeling nibbled at her fur. The tickling caused Twilight to fuss, but she refused to back away. Her willpower almost broke when she felt Chrysalis’ reptilian tongue lash across her skin. While Twilight squirmed, she couldn’t ignore the curiosity building in her mind. The saliva soaked into her fur, numbing the skin beneath.
Then she felt the fangs. Every muscle in her body tensed. Each beat of her heart pressed her throat against those sharpened teeth. The sudden shift made Chrysalis hesitate. To make her wishes clear, Twilight tilted her head, exposing the tender flesh of her neck for a clear bite.
“Thank you,” Chrysalis whispered.
As the fangs depressed into her, the sense of numbness on her skin spread to the rest of her body. Her limbs fell like stone and her tongue refused to form words. For a moment, she feared she might fall from the bed, but Chrysalis wrapped her slender limbs around the smaller mare, restraining her completely.
Uncontested, Chrysalis pulled her fangs free. Although Twilight felt no pain, she could feel the warmth trickling from the twin holes in her neck. Her body shuddered involuntarily as Chrysalis’ tongue returned, licking away the blood.
The venom enveloped her completely, leaving her more lightheaded than the liquor. In a moment of weightlessness, a thought slipped free from Twilight’s grasp. A thought of her and Chrysalis. Of the possibilities of what the changeling might do to her next. Her cheeks burned red, though this time, alcohol wasn’t to blame.
A roaring laugh snapped Twilight from her trance.
“What’s so funny?” Twilight demanded. Her words felt as light as she did. If she were in the right state of mind, she would have attributed that to the fact that her lips never moved as she said them.
“If you wanted me to try that, you only had to ask,” Chrysalis answered.
The changeling's voice emanated from every direction at once. Twilight blinked a few times, trying to clear the slight blur in her vision. The room echoed with a strange pink glow. To her confusion, the air tasted sweet.
“Did you just say that without moving your lips?” she asked.
“I did,” Chrysalis answered. “And so did you.”
“How am I hearing you, then? What did you do?”
Chrysalis shifted again. Her larger frame enveloped Twilight, holding her tight like a child’s toy.
“I told you I had something to share with you. It seems you took that a more . . . interesting direction.” Another laugh. “You’re in my mind, Twilight. And I’m in yours.”
“I . . . You . . . We’re . . .” Twilight struggled desperately to put her thoughts in order.
“Which means,” Chrysalis thought in a whisper, “that I just saw everything you wanted me to do to you.” Though Twilight could no longer see the changeling’s face, she could feel the smile on her lips.
And then Chrysalis’ words struck.
“You . . . what?” Twilight’s eyes widened.
“I saw all of it.”
The heat in Twilight’s cheeks nearly ignited her fur. But the more she tried to fight the thoughts, the more of her fantasies bubbled to the surface. The wine certainly didn’t help.
“Do you want to know a secret, Twilight?”
Twilight squeaked.
“Among Changelings, such acts are simple. A tool to keep us fed, to keep our prey satisfied. When we really wish to show our affection, we share our minds. Just like this.”
“What are you saying?” Twilight asked, equally scared and excited.
A mad cackle jolted through her mind.
“Twilight Sparkle. I, Cimeteriah Chrysalis, Claim you.”
“Twilight? Are you in there?” Spike called through the door. “Seriously, if you’re in there, answer me. I’ve been looking all over the castle for you. It’s time to wake up.”
He turned the handle and pulled. To his surprise, the door swung open. He stepped inside, stumbling blindly in the dark. He kept his arms outstretched, searching along the wall. When he reached the light switch, he flipped it on, only to be disappointed by the lack of response. Muttering to himself, he navigated over to the window. With the aid of a nearby chair, he yanked the blinds open, bathing the room in sunlight.
“Turn that off, Spike. It’s too bright,” Twilight moaned from under the covers. She lifted her head high enough to pluck one of the pillows out from under it and used it to block out her face as she burrowed deeper into the bed.
“You want me to turn off the sun?” Spike asked, glancing out at the midday sky.
“You know what I mean. Close the blinds.”
Spike hopped up onto the bed. “Come on, Twilight. We still have a lot of work to do finishing Celestia’s cure. You don’t want to waste another day, do you?” He struggled to pry Twilight’s fluffy shield from her grasp.
“Just give me a few more minutes, Spike. I’ve got a really bad headache.”
“A few more minutes? It’s already past noon.”
Twilight shot up. Without her grip to counter his, Spike tumbled backwards onto the floor, landing victoriously on the stolen pillow.
“Noon?”
“Yeah.” Spike pointed nonchalantly to the window. “I spent all morning searching the castle for you. What are you doing here?”
Twilight studied her surroundings. She recognized Chrysalis’ room, summoning back a hazy recollection of the previous night. Unfortunately, the room’s owner seemed to be absent from the premises.
“I went to see Chrysalis last night. She should be here.”
Spike shook his head.
“I haven’t seen her around, either.” He glanced fitfully around the room, as though she might be hiding somewhere nearby. “I guess I can add that to the list, too.”
Twilight tossed her legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the cold tile beneath her hooves. She reached instinctively to rub her neck, hoping to quell the ache in her head. A sharp pain caused her to sleep-addled nerves to wince. With a gentler touch, she brushed against the two pinpricks in her neck.
“You alright?” Spike asked.
Twilight grinned as she hid the wounds beneath her fur. As sick as it sounded, she found herself secretly hoping they would scar.
“My head’s killing me,” she explained. “I think I might have had a little much to drink last night.”
“Since when do you drink?” Spike wondered as he helped her stand.
“I don’t.” She cleared her throat. “But Rarity was insistent. And I needed it.”
“Right,” Spike nodded.
Twilight checked her mane in the bathroom mirror. After herding a few stray locks into place, she rejoined Spike in the bedroom.
“So, what’s on the agenda today?”
“Finishing up Celestia’s cure,” Spike said. “Supposing everything goes according to plan, it should be ready for Celestia tonight. Just think about it, Twilight. This might all be over soon.”
“Hard to believe. It seems like we’ve been here in Canterlot too long. I can’t wait to get home. Think Ponyville misses us?”
“I know they do.”
“Well, then what are we standing around for?” Twilight helped Spike up onto her back. “Let’s get to work.”
“I almost forgot. I’m going to need you to do me a favor, Spike,” Twilight stopped just outside her laboratory. “If we’re going to finish up today, we’re going to need Chrysalis. Hopefully, she’ll be able to help us test the new concoction without too much trouble.”
“You need me to find her?” Spike asked, already sliding down.
“That would be helpful. I’ll stay up here and get everything else ready.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see if I can track down Starlight, too. Just in case.”
Spike marched off like a toy soldier.
Twilight watched him until he rounded the corner, leaving her standing alone in the hallway. Trying her best to ignore the pounding pressure in her skull, she pushed open the lab door just enough to slip inside.
To Twilight’s confusion and tepid annoyance, the lights were already on. She muttered under her breath, cursing herself for leaving them on. Her rant was interrupted when she noticed the stack of crates on the far side of the room. Twilight peered around, looking for a note from the cleaning crew that might shed some light on the situation.
When no explanation revealed itself, Twilight turned her inspection toward the boxes themselves. From a preliminary scan, she noticed they were the same ones that had been removed only a few days prior. Unlike before, though, the entire ensemble had been arranged in a ring and cushioned with over a dozen different blankets.
Luckily, whoever had redecorated the room had enough sense to leave her experiments undisturbed. Twilight inspected the setup more thoroughly, just in case. With each piece she approved of, her pride in her assistant blossomed. As she studied one of the final beakers, a figure moved in the reflection of the glass. Twilight tried to turn and face the intruder. Before she could move a muscle, a heavy frame dove from above, pinning the princess to the floor.
“You let your guard down, Sleepyhead,” Chrysalis teased, ruffling her victim’s mane.
“Chrysalis?” Twilight asked. “What are you doing up here?”
“Working.” The changeling motioned to the pile of crates. “It took a while to track them all down, but I think it was worth it in the end.”
“Huh. I didn’t expect to see you here. I didn’t even think you could find this place on your own.” A purple flash erupted through the room, dropping Chrysalis onto the floor with a grunt. Twilight stood over the changeling, smoothing her mane back into place. “You know, if you needed help, you could’ve woke me up.”
Chrysalis rolled onto her back.
“I thought about it. But you looked so adorable lying there. I couldn’t bring myself to ruin it.”
The joy in Twilight’s face faltered, replaced with awe. She approached the defenseless changeling, running a hoof along her scarred cheek. She couldn’t look away from those sparkling emerald eyes.
“What are you doing?” Chrysalis asked, playfully pushing Twilight’s hoof away.
“Your eye,” Twilight said, entranced.
“My mother always told me they were my best feature.” Chrysalis’ scarred eye was open and undamaged. “I couldn’t have done it without your help last night.”
“You fed off me?” Twilight asked. “I guess that would explain the headache.”
“That’s a good guess, but wrong. The love you felt last night gave me more than enough energy. Don’t try and tell me you didn’t notice it. That intoxicating sweetness in the night air. I know you could taste it.”
“I didn’t know what it was.”
“That was love, Twilight. Real love. Something I haven’t tasted in a long time. But we can talk more about that later. I know you didn’t come here looking for me.” Chrysalis pointed to the alchemy supplies scattered around the table. “And, I didn’t touch anything, if you were wondering.”
Chrysalis retreated to her nest. From her perch, she watched Twilight double-check calculations and measurements.
“You’re not busy, are you?” Twilight inquired.
“What do you need?”
“When this potion is done, it will need to be tested. And unfortunately, simple spells like last time clearly won’t cut it. We’re going to need something more specialized.”
Chrysalis reached down into one of the crates, pulling out a surprisingly hearty tree branch. The green leaves on it were starting to wither. The changeling climbed down from her throne and offered it to Twilight.
“What is this?”
“I told you I was busy this morning.”
Chrysalis drew Twilight’s attention to a blackened spot on the bark. Thin black lines webbed out from the single point. Each thread ended at one of the darkening leaves.
“A tree branch?”
“When I left yesterday, I went down to visit Celestia. Among other things, I spent some time studying her wound. It’s not a perfect recreation, but it’s about as close as I can get without my horn.”
“You were one step ahead. Good work,” Twilight lauded. She set the branch aside and continued her work with the potion. This time, though, Chrysalis stayed at her side, watching each move closely, trying desperately to understand the method to Twilight’s madness.
“Finished,” Twilight declared, marking off the final line on her parchments.
“Already? That was quick.” Chrysalis asked.
“What? Oh. The cure was practically finished yesterday. Spike and I left it overnight to cook. All I had to do today was make sure no long-term issues reared their ugly heads. But my checklist is complete. I think it’s safe to move on to testing.”
Twilight stepped back, putting several feet between herself and the table.
“Well?” Chrysalis asked. “What’re you waiting for?”
“You might want to step back, first,” she warned.
Chrysalis glanced over at the tree branch lying on the table.
“Are you expecting it to explode?”
“No.”
“Then why are you standing so far away?”
“Because I never expected to be an alicorn, either. Life has a funny way of playing with expectations. Like a changeling queen falling for a pony.”
With a gentle nod, Chrysalis took a generous hop back.
From a distance, Twilight plucked the potion from its stand, hovering it over to the test subject with a steady magic hand. Chewing her lip in concentration, Twilight spilled a few drops over the branch, directly over the wound.
It took them several seconds to realize they weren’t breathing.
“Did it work?” Chrysalis wondered aloud.
“Last time, it took a while, remember? We just have to watch and see what happens.”
“Last time, it didn’t work, Twilight.”
The alicorn shrugged.
“Well, we’ll just have to wait. Normally, I’d have Spike keep an eye out for any transformations, but since he’s not here . . .” Twilight constructed a small writing space on one of the nearby tables. From it, she watched her experiment closely, her dry quill tapping against the paper.
“You’re just going to sit here and watch?” Chrysalis asked, peeking over Twilight’s shoulder.
“Yes. That’s how science works. Experiment and observe effects. Adjust if necessary. It’s pretty simple if you think about it.”
Chrysalis retrieved another chair, setting it up beside her.
“Simple? Maybe. Boring? Definitely.”
“It’s important, though.”
“If you say so.” Chrysalis froze mid-slouch. “Actually, now that you mention it, where is Spike? I think he was running around looking for you this morning.”
“Yeah. He woke me up after you left. I told him to—” Her quill stopped tapping. “For Celestia’s sake, he’s looking for you.” She sighed. “I should probably send someone after him.”
“Want me to go find him? It would be appropriate.” Chrysalis chuckled at the thought.
“No. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Spike can take care of himself. Besides, I think he said he was going to find Starlight, too. She’ll bring him back eventually.”
“So, then what should we do while we’re waiting?” Chrysalis tilted back farther in her chair until the front two legs were off the ground.
“Focus on observation,” Twilight ordered.
“We could talk?” Chrysalis suggested.
“I just told you we have to watch for any changes in the test subject.”
“We can do both.”
“Alright,” Twilight said, unamused. “What would you like to talk about?”
Chrysalis blew a hasty breath. “I don’t know. How’s the weather today?”
“Cold,” Twilight answered nonchalantly.
The changeling straightened her chair.
“I thought you liked the cold? That’s what you told me last night.”
“I said a lot of things last night,” Twilight pouted.
“Speaking of last night . . . I didn’t overstep my bounds, did I?”
“What do you mean?” Twilight turned to Chrysalis.
“The things I said. Claiming you. That’s what you wanted, right? Tell me I didn’t screw it up.”
Twilight set her quill back in the inkwell. She reached out, putting a hoof on Chrysalis’ leg. “You didn’t screw anything up. I’m happy you decided to pick me.” She returned her focus to her observations. “Although, I’m not really sure why you keep calling it that.”
“What? Claiming?”
“Yeah. You claimed me?”
Chrysalis teased a knot out of her mane.
“It’s an old Changeling tradition. Do you remember what I told you last night? About Changelings and love? It’s a rare emotion among our kind. But it’s not unheard of. To demonstrate that sort of attraction—”
“You share your mind with one another.”
“Sort of.” Chrysalis bit the edge of her hoof. “We already share our minds. There is no need to vocalize such feelings with one another. But with races outside of our hivemind . . . things get a little complicated. Changelings are excellent at faking romance, but they’re not great at the real thing.”
“But isn’t that—”
“And before you ask, they’re not the same thing.”
Twilight closed her mouth.
“Anyways,” Chrysalis continued. “To get around that, we found a way to . . . connect with those outside the hive. Like a pony.”
“That’s amazing. I didn’t know changelings could do something like that.”
“Changelings are capable of many strange feats. Especially when love is involved. Normally, such a ritual can be carried out using magic. I had to do it the old-fashioned way. Keep in mind that such a thing hasn’t been done in . . . centuries, probably. You should feel honored, Twilight Sparkle.”
“I do,” Twilight giggled.
Throughout the pause in their conversation, Chrysalis heard the scratching of a pen. Her head snapped toward the branch, still sitting on the desk. Seeing no obvious changes, she craned her neck to see Twilight’s notes. She could only pick up fragments of the scribblings. From the few legible bits, she realized the scrawls listed out every bit of information Chrysalis had just told her.
She bit back a smile.
“Just so you can add this to your records,” Chrysalis began, “I don’t want you to think that just because I Claimed you, that means you’re stuck with me. It’s not legally binding or anything.”
Twilight cast her a sideways glance but added the addendum.
“Oh, and Twilight?”
“Yeah?”
“You might want to take a look at your experiment.”
Twilight’s head whipped around back to the tree branch. A black, inky substance leaked from the gouge in the bark. In a frenzy, she flipped to a new page, hastily adding every observation she could make.
“Do you see that?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“What?” Chrysalis leaned in for a closer look where Twilight was pointing. The dark veins along the branch had retracted. Eventually, the ink stopped flowing, leaving a perfectly healthy branch sitting alone on the research table.
Twilight and Luna stood over Celestia’s bed. The latter looked over her sister, worry etched into her face. The former held her potion at her side in a corked flask. It glowed faintly in the dark.
“Are you sure it will work?” Luna asked.
“I hope so,” Twilight said. “I’ve spent most of today running tests on it with Chrysalis. But there’s no way to know for sure unless we try it. In the end, the decision is yours, Princess.” She held out the potion between them.
“And just in case it doesn’t work, I didn’t sabotage it.”
They both turned toward Chrysalis, who sat patiently by the fire, wreathed in a warm sheet. She watched Luna with a scowl.
Ignoring the slight, Luna waved Doctor Heart over to her.
“And your opinion, Doctor? Is Celestia stable enough to try this?”
He shrugged.
“Time is ticking, Princess Luna.”
“Perhaps there are still issues to be worked out. Something that could hurt her if it’s not done properly.” She carried a note of fear in her voice. “Perhaps more tests should be done. Just to be safe.”
“With all due respect, Princess, have some faith in Twilight. If she’s telling the truth and tested this thing rigorously, then waiting won’t change a thing.” He offered Twilight a pained smile. “I think we should do this tonight.”
“Thank you for your input, Doctor Heart,” Luna whispered. “Very well. Do what you need to. I know you will make my sister proud.” The dark alicorn stepped out of the way, allowing Twilight space to work.
Wordlessly, Twilight approached the bed, drawing back the covers with her magic.
“Allow me,” Doctor Heart interrupted, gently peeling away the ichor-soaked bandages. As he worked, the only sound in the room came from the starting patter of rain against the window. A flash of lightning illuminated the world for an instant, allowing Twilight to see the grotesque wound with brilliant clarity.
She examined the cut carefully, ignorant of the small audience watching her every move with bated breath. Even so long after its infliction, the wound still trickled thin, inky lines. Necrotic skin was visible where her fur had fallen out. Despite the doctor’s treatment, Celestia’s form had emaciated. Ribs were visible around her barrel. Her breathing declined into wheezing gasps. Twilight’s stomach churned at the sight.
Stashed away in her corner, Chrysalis’ memories replayed in her mind on loop. Guilt settled on her like stone shackles, forcing her to bow her head. No matter how hard she tried to fight, she couldn’t escape the sound of Twilight’s whimpering cries that tormented her nightly. Even the loudest storm couldn’t silence memories.
Swallowing her fear, Twilight withdrew the cork from the neck of the bottle. The glass jittered in her grasp until a second, darker wave of magic washed over it, steadying it. Together, she and Luna raised it over Celestia, tilting it just enough for a drop to spill out. It struck the burned flesh with a soft hiss. The two alicorns’ eyes met, and they applied another, larger dose.
Pink syrup bubbled in the wound, cueing them to stop. A small dribble ran down Celestia’s back, splashing against the bed. Luna released her spell, allowing Twilight to return the cork to the bottle and stepping back.
Luna circled the bed, draping a wing over Twilight as she tried to catch her breath.
“Now is the hard part,” Twilight explained.
“Which is?” Luna asked.
“We wait.”
With their wings still tangled, the two alicorns joined the rest of the group around the fire. Though they exchanged the occasional worried glance as the night ticked away, none of them had the stomach for words.
When she judged enough time had passed, Twilight returned to the bed. During their brief break, most of the potion had sunk beneath the skin, allowing Twilight room to apply a second dose. Constantly, she stopped herself, taking a deep breath to calm her shaking nerves. After the bottle was empty, she stayed at Celestia’s side, resting her head against the edge of the mattress.
The soft touch of wool wrapped around her shoulders. She glanced up at Chrysalis, standing over her with a consoling smile on her lips. She draped the blanket over Twilight and sat down beside her, holding her tightly. She tried to return the changeling’s smile.
The rain outside grew heavier with each passing minute. Soon, the whole of Canterlot disappeared behind a sheet of water. The brief flashes of light revealed nothing but an empty city beyond. To Twilight’s fragile nerves, time lost any meaning. Seconds passed in centuries. How long had it been raining? How long had she laid here, waiting?
“Twilight.”
Chrysalis’ voice dragged her out from the recesses of her mind. She had a hoof pointed toward Celestia, where a thick line of ichor spilled down her side.
“Luna, Doctor Heart, come over here,” she said.
Shocked lucid by the lighter tone in Twilight’s voice, they hurried to her.
“Did something happen?” Luna asked, folding her wings back against her body.
“I think it’s working.”
“Clear the area. Let me through,” Doctor Heart ordered, pushing his way to the front. He examined the wound.
“Doctor?” Luna worried.
“Something is definitely happening,” he explained. “The wound is draining.” He motioned to the spot in question. Black ooze spilled from the wound, staining the sheets and leaking onto the floor.
“That doesn’t look good,” Luna gasped.
“It’s alright. Take a look here.” He spread a tuft of Celestia’s fur, allowing her sister a better look. The black veins across her body receded. “It looks like the cure is negating the poison. It almost seems like her body is rejecting the venom.”
“It worked?” Twilight’s eyes widened.
“I won’t be able to say for sure until we run some tests, but it certainly looks that way.”
“Then . . . we did it?” Twilight turned to Chrysalis, throwing herself into the changeling, tears already streaming down her cheek. “We really did it?”
“You did, Kiddo.”
“I was terrified it wouldn’t work.”
Canterlot Castle trembled beneath a crack of thunder.
“I wouldn’t go celebrating just yet,” Doctor Heart muttered.
Twilight faced him, blinking. “You said it worked. The poison’s weakening. Right?”
“I also said we’ll have to keep her under observation for a few days to make sure.”
“At the very least, we bought her some time, didn’t we?” Twilight pulled away from Chrysalis. “Even if the cure doesn’t work, the fact that she reacted like this means we’re on the right track, doesn’t it?”
“T-Twilight . . .” Luna stammered, unable to meet her innocent stare.
“Why are the two of you being so dour about this. We did it!”
“Twilight,” Chrysalis scolded.
Her harsh tone only confused Twilight more. “Why are you all acting like this?” She demanded, suddenly aware neither of the others would meet her gaze.
“You’re hiding something from us, aren’t you, Luna?” Chrysalis asked, her voice unusually calm.
Luna and Doctor Heart exchanged a look. Despite the concern etched in the deep lines of his face, the doctor said nothing, turning his full attention to cleaning up Celestia’s wound for hopefully the last time.
“Luna?” Twilight asked, her body starting to quake with panic. “Why aren’t you happy about this? This is great news?”
“I’m afraid the solution isn’t quite so simple, Twilight,” Luna confessed.
“What are you talking about? Celestia’s going to be alright!” Her confidence wavered. “Right?”
“If your cure does nullify the poison . . . there’s still another problem.”
Twilight reeled, taking each syllable like a punch in the gut. Seeing her stature waver, Chrysalis stepped up, catching Twilight before she could fall.
“Why?” Twilight demanded, her words cracking like glass.
Luna winced.
“I’m . . . I’m afraid the poison has already done much of its work.”
Another bolt of thunder.
“No!” Twilight interrupted, struggling to break free of Chrysalis’ hold. “No. No. No. Please tell me this is some sick joke, Luna. Tell me you’re lying.”
“She’s not,” Doctor Heart chimed in. He was still in the process of rebinding Celestia’s wounds. “Do not misunderstand, Princess. More than likely, you’ve still saved her life. But, depending on the damage she’s sustained . . . there’s a very low chance of full recovery.”
“This isn’t funny!” Twilight screamed, her tears flowing freely.
“It’s not a joke, Twilight,” Chrysalis cooed, transitioning Twilight’s restraint into a consoling embrace.
“You knew about this, too?” Twilight demanded, finally slipping free from the Changeling.
“Not specifically. But I had my suspicions.”
“B-But . . . I thought . . . How long?” Twilight’s sorrow turned to anger. She lashed out at the other three. “How long have you known about this?”
“Doctor Heart first noticed after we returned from the Nightmare,” Luna began. “There were signs of serious internal damage. Organs were shutting down. Muscle deteriorating. We used whatever magic we could to keep her alive.”
“You lied to me,” Twilight snapped.
“I asked Doctor Heart to keep it from you.”
“Why, Luna?”
“Because I knew it would upset you.”
“I’d say keeping it from me would be much worse,” Twilight sobbed. “That’s no excuse. I’m a princess, too. Don’t I deserve to know? Didn’t you think I would want to know that?”
“Then tell me honestly, what difference would it have made, Twilight?” Luna asked softly.
Twilight’s jaw dropped.
“I would have worked harder. I would have worked faster.”
“Are you telling me you were not already motivated to save Celestia? Even if I had told you, the outcome would be no different than it is now.” Luna clenched her teeth. “By the time we learned, the damage was already done. What good would it have been to tell you about something you could no longer change?”
“I . . . I could have . . .” Twilight’s breathing quickened.
“There was nothing more you could do,” Luna admitted. “It was too late already. I believed it was in your best interest to work without such useless worry on your shoulders. I do not claim that it was the best choice, but it was the one I decided. If you take umbrage with my decision, then that is between you and I.”
The purple Princess’ breathing evolved into panicked gasps.
“And I will take responsibility for it. Whatever struggles meet her on the path forward, I will stand at her side, ready to offer my hoof in support. Neither I nor Celestia will forget what you did tonight, Twilight. I just hope that you remember the same.”
Twilight cowered away from the rest of the group, her tail and head bowed like a scared filly. She searched for comfort among the faces of those gathered around her, but only found misery.
Chrysalis tried to comfort the scared princess, but Twilight just cowered back further. In the brief light of a lightning flash, Chrysalis saw only accusation in her stare.
This is your fault. Remember?
An unnoticed raindrop fell from Chrysalis’ cheek. She stepped back from the terrified pony.
“I’m sorry, Twilight.”
Twilight thought of a million things to say but couldn’t muster the strength to utter a single one. The room spun around her, forming a headache that grew worse with each staggered breath. The walls closed in around her.
“I have to go!” Twilight screamed, bolting for the door.
Every pony in the room flinched as they heard her bedroom door slam shut, followed soon after by the sound of an agonized scream. Each haggard howl only pierced the lance deeper into Chrysalis’ chest.
“One of us should speak with her,” Luna finally decided.
“Then you do it,” Chrysalis growled. “I get the sense she doesn’t want to see me right now.”
“You are not to blame here, Chrysalis—”
“Then who is, Luna? I did this to her. It’s my magic that took this from her.”
“I do not believe that.” Luna shook her head. “I was mistaken, Chrysalis. For so long, I thought you the tyrant you once were. When you arrived, I hated you for it. But now I see the truth. You are no longer the Queen Chrysalis that tormented Equestria. I only hope that one day you will see that, too.” Luna settled a hoof on Chrysalis’ shoulder, allowing for a brief moment of comfort before she set off to deal with the wailing princess.
“Was she telling the truth, Doctor?” Chrysalis wondered.
“About you?” he asked.
“About Celestia. Was there really nothing to be done?”
He thought for a moment.
“I think you did all you could.”
“She will wake up?” she pointed to Celestia.
“Hard to say. Depends on which parts took the brunt of the damage. If I’m being honest, it won’t be easy. She’ll more than likely require assistance for the rest of her life. If something more major is damaged, there’s a chance she might never wake up. No way to know for now.”
Chrysalis refused to tear her gaze from Celestia.
“Do you think she’ll hate me for it?”
“That’s not my judgment to make,” Doctor Heart said.
“Do you? For doing this to your princess.”
He chuckled morosely.
“What do you want me to say, Lady Chrysalis? You’ve already made up your mind about what the answer is. What I say doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“I’m too old to hate anymore.”
The doctor stared blankly at his patient. In his eyes, Chrysalis saw the truth of his words. The long, painful truth.
“Doctor, would you mind fetching me another blanket? The rain is making it too cold in here.”
He eyed her suspiciously.
She met his gaze head-on.
“I’ll keep an eye on Celestia for you.”
“Fine.” The old doctor rose. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Thank you.”
As he crossed the doorway, the doctor stopped in his tracks.
“Chrysalis?”
“Yes?” She answered.
“It’s been real interesting having you around.”
With a casual salute, the doctor closed the door, leaving Chrysalis and Celestia alone.
The crying still audible through the wall told her that Luna would be busy for some time, still. Just in case, Chrysalis locked the door and jammed a chair beneath the handle. The vestiges of a plan forming in her mind brought an eerie tranquility to the changeling.
“Well, Celestia, I guess this makes us even.”
A familiar, deathly peace.
“Twilight? Twilight? Open this door. I need to speak with you.”
“I don’t want to talk, Luna.”
The lunar princess studied the door. With pursed lips, she waved a guard over, ordering him to open the door. As soon as he finished, she sent him away.
“I have unlocked the door. I am coming in,” she announced, throwing open the door. She barely managed to duck beneath a pillow aimed for her head. Twilight lay on the bed, curled up against the sheets.
“You made me believe I could save her, Luna,” Twilight sobbed.
“You did save her.”
“If you would have told me, I could have done something. I could have devised a spell . . . something to keep her from injury.”
“I made a decision—”
“It was a bad decision,” Twilight shouted, launching another pillow. Luna sidestepped it.
“Maybe. But it was my decision. Neither you nor Chrysalis owe any blame here.”
“Then who should I blame?” Twilight demanded. “You?”
Luna stopped several feet from the bed.
“If it eases your anger. If that is what you need to do. Yes.”
“It wasn’t right, Luna. I’m a princess, too. I had a right to know.”
“You are a princess. But you are also still young, Twilight. My sister told me stories of your time together.” Luna’s gaze drifted away. “She saw you like a daughter. She wanted to protect you from every pain she could. She did the same to me when we were younger rulers.”
Twilight’s sobbing slowed.
“She said that?”
“I called her a fool. But when the time came for me to make that same decision, I could not bring myself to do it. Pain is a part of life we thought we could keep from you. I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you.”
“Maybe . . . Maybe I’m also still a little to blame,” Twilight admitted, wiping her tears. “Sometimes, the responsibility feels overwhelming. Maybe I wasn’t ready to be a princess after all.”
“Yet, in Equestria’s darkest moments, you have stepped forward time and time again. Such stress should not be levied against you, Twilight, but you have done well. My sister was prouder of you than I imagined possible. I should have realized the same.”
“Tell me something, Luna. Will she survive?”
“Doctor Heart believes so.”
“Then I want to be there when she wakes u—”
A violent tremor shook the room. Luna spread her stance, steadying herself until the shock died. She and Twilight exchanged a wide-eyed stare. Even once the ground stopped shaking, it didn’t stop the fear gripping Twilight’s heart. She felt electricity in the air, making her fur stand on end.
“Do you feel that?” she asked, panic returning to her voice.
“Magic,” Luna confirmed. “A lot of magic.”
Twilight launched from her bed, rushing out into the hallway with Luna in tow. Several guards were standing nearby, heads swiveling back-and-forth in confusion. Upon spying their princess, they jumped to attention.
“Princess Luna?”
“I want the Guard on standby—”
Another pulse of magic tore through the castle, rattling Twilight.
“Standby,” Luna continued. “Be prepared for a fight.”
The stallion saluted, ushering the rest of his allies.
“I know. What in Celestia’s name is going on in there?”
“You don’t think my potion did something, do you?”
“I don’t know, Twilight.”
Snapping back into action, Luna turned the handle on Celestia’s door. It stopped halfway, giving the princess a moment’s pause.
“It’s locked,” she muttered. “Guardsman, bring those keys over here. Get this door open.”
The armored stallion complied, tearing the keyring from his belt. The key slid smoothly into the lock, clicking it open. Luna tried the handle again. This time, it moved a little farther down, but jammed before it could open.
“Something’s holding it from the other side,” Luna realized.
“Officer,” Twilight forced the guard to face her. “Did anyone go in there after we left?”
“Forgive me, Princess.” The ponies’ heads turned toward Doctor Heart, sitting with his legs crossed across from Celestia’s door. “It seems Chrysalis has locked us out.”
“Doctor Heart? What are you doing out here?” Twilight demanded.
“Chrysalis asked me to fetch her a blanket. I was in the middle of doing so.”
Another pulse. The energy in the air caused it to ripple.
“You left her alone in there?” Twilight screamed.
“With Celestia, too,” The doctor corrected.
“What’s she doing? What did she say?”
“She asked me for a blanket.” He held up a sheet far too small for a changeling.
“And you just left?” Luna scoffed.
“Forgive me for being so blunt,” Doctor Heart rubbed at the crick in his neck. “Chrysalis has made her choice, Princess. What right do I have to stop her?”
“Her choice?” Twilight repeated. The fear wrapped around her heart tightened until its icy claws were freezing the blood within. “What choice, Doctor?”
He turned away.
“Twilight?” Luna asked. “What does he mean?”
“I have to go,” Twilight said, vanishing in a ball of magical light.
When Twilight reappeared in Celestia’s room, she never touched the floor. While the flow of magic might have simply bristled her fur outside, it now carried enough strength to lift her off her hooves. The immense pressure pinned her against the wall. For a moment, she could see nothing but the green flare of changeling magic.
“Chrysalis?” she called, clenching her eyes shut.
“Twilight?” Chrysalis’ voice sounded strained.
Twilight pushed forward with all her might, but she could hardly struggle against such power.
“What’s going on?” Twilight demanded.
“I’m sorry.”
Gritting her teeth, Twilight forced herself to look. It took a moment for her vision to adjust. When it did, she saw Chrysalis, levitating over Celestia. Green energy whirled around her in a vortex, tearing decorations from the walls and scattering book pages from their shelves.
“Stop. We can talk about this. It doesn’t have to be like this,” Twilight howled. Fresh tears welled in her eyes, blurring her sight even more.
“It doesn’t have to. No. But it’s the ending I’ve chosen, Twilight.”
Chrysalis turned her back to Twilight.
The princess tried to call back, but the whirlwind grew louder, its roar deafening.
Lightning tore through the blackened sky. Rain pelted windows hard enough to shake them in their frames. A green light engulfed the tall tower of Canterlot Castle, creating a tremor strong enough to shake the city down to its foundations. Lights flickered on and off throughout the town below. And just as quickly as the tempest arrived, it vanished.
Twilight grunted as she crashed into the stone. She did her best to ignore the pain, turning her head upward toward Chrysalis. The changeling stood at Celestia’s bedside. Her long, slender legs trembled, causing her to sway.
The princess scrambled forward, barely arriving in time to catch her. The weight dragged Twilight to her knees. As she sat, she rested Chrysalis’ head on her lap, brushing gently at her mane. The jet black of her chitin dulled to a listless silver.
“Chrysalis? Can you hear me?” Twilight cried.
“Twilight.” Chrysalis’ cracked lips curled into a smile.
“Listen to me, you’re going to be okay. Just hold on,” Twilight begged. Strands of the changeling’s mane pulled free with each brush. Chunks of her shell fell away, crumbling to ash as they struck the stone.
“You’ll be okay.”
“You don’t have to lie to me, Twilight,” Chrysalis sputtered.
Thousands of questions tore through Twilight’s head, twirling her thoughts into a deadly frenzy. In the end, she could only settle on a single one.
“Why?”
Chrysalis took a long, slow breath.
“I asked you once . . . what would you sacrifice . . . for Celestia?” She wheezed. “I . . . I have chosen . . . my answer. I . . . repaid what I took.”
“We could have found another way.”
Twilight sniffled. One of her tears struck Chrysalis. Their teardrops mixed, carving a line down Chrysalis cheek through her ashen skin.
“You promised me—” Chrysalis coughed, sending cracks through her body. “You promised me a wish, Twilight.”
Twilight took the changeling’s hoof in her own, holding it to her chest. It felt unusually cold.
“Whatever you wanted,” Twilight said.
“I won’t ask you . . . to forgive me, Twilight.” Her chest heaved, trying to breathe, yet failing. “But I want you . . . to be happy. Live your life . . . find someone . . . to love . . . and hold them close. For me, Twilight?”
“No.” Twilight shook her head. “I-I can’t . . .”
She didn’t know if Chrysalis heard her.
“Twilight?” she croaked, “I want to tell you something . . . Celestia saved my life . . . but you were the one . . . to give her second chance . . . meaning.”
“Chrysalis? Please don’t do this to me!” Twilight screamed. She clung tight to the changeling, the shards of chitin piercing like needles.
“These last few weeks . . . have been the best of my life.”
“Mine, too.”
“I love you, Twilight.”
Though tears continued to streak down her face, Chrysalis visage never wavered from its smile, even as complete stillness washed over her.
Celestia arched her neck, smiling at the doctor as he approached her bedside. She tossed her sheets aside, shifting her pose to a more regal one.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Doctor.”
“Of course. What seems to be the matter?”
She inched her hind leg toward the edge of her bed.
“It’s my leg. Even after two months, it still hurts.”
He frowned. In need of light, he flipped on the lamp on the nightstand. With sufficient light, he reared up beside her, running his hooves along the lithe muscle of her injured extremity. She winced when he touched her.
“So?” she asked, holding a worried hoof to her chin.
“This is only a rudimentary test, but it seems like the muscle is having difficulty healing. If I were to guess, I’d wager it’s a side-effect of Chrysalis’ poison. Have you been doing the exercises I prescribed?”
“I have. Six times a day. Just like you said.”
The doctor stepped back, tugging at his goatee.
“Is there anything you can do?”
“I can’t guarantee my diagnosis without more advanced testing. If you are able, I would like you to come down to my office tomorrow. The machinery I’ll need is there. If I’m right, I should be able to fashion a brace for you that might help with the pain.”
“Is there anything you can do tonight?” she pleaded.
“I have a spell that should numb the injury. It’ll stop hurting, but you won’t be able to walk until morning.”
“I see.” Celestia sighed. “I will be fine then, Doctor.”
“You sure?” he checked.
“Yes. I still have a few duties to take care of tonight. Wouldn’t do if I shirked my responsibilities, don’t you think?”
“Of course, Princess.”
“Thank you. That will be all tonight, Doctor. You can give the details of my appointment to Inkwell on your way out.”
He bowed and left. Before he could close the door all the way, another figure stepped inside.
“Is something the matter, Dear Sister?” Luna asked, her form wreathed by the hallway light. “I heard you sent for the doctor.”
“Still keeping tabs on me, Luna?” Celestia chuckled, rising to greet her sister.
“Of course I am.” Luna sputtered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You are still recovering. What kind of sister would I be if I did not constantly check on your well-being?”
“It’s not necessary,” Celestia explained.
Luna wandered toward the window, glancing up toward the moon.
“Really? I recall you fretting over me in much the same way after my return from the moon.”
“That’s different,” Celestia said, flustered.
“Do not worry, Celestia. I have already attended to my duties for the night. There is nowhere else I need to be other than here, taking care of you.”
“That is very kind of you, Luna. I’m lucky to have such a caring sister.”
“I appreciate the flattery, but do not think I have forgotten my question. Is there something troubling you?”
Celestia climbed gracefully from her bed. Unable to shift her weight onto her damaged leg, she limped over to the balcony door. With a nod, she invited Luna to follow her out onto the terrace. Together, they stood beneath the night, chilled by the dying gasp of winter.
“Your leg is still bothering you?” Luna realized.
“Yes. Doctor Heart is worried it might not be healing. I’ve set up an appointment for tomorrow,” Celestia said. “He thinks it might be an effect of Chrysalis’ poison.”
The sisters’ jovial mood darkened.
“Speaking of Chrysalis,” Luna began softly, “Have you heard anything?”
Celestia glanced down at the gardens. She followed one of the guards as he followed his patrol.
“I have. I received word from Thorax this morning.”
“Nothing good, I assume?”
Celestia shook her head.
“His changelings are refusing to let her be interred at their hive. For the moment, they are still trying to reach a compromise. The changeling sightings around Equestria may have stopped for the time being, but they left his hive in chaos.”
“Then we ought to simply bury her ourselves. She died an Equestrian hero.”
“Perhaps.”
“What about Twilight? Have you spoken with her?”
“Not for a few weeks. She’s ‘finding it difficult to reacclimate to her small castle’ as she puts it.”
“Might I be honest with you Celestia?” Luna waited for her sister’s permission before continuing. “I am not sure Twilight should be left alone. Her relationship with Chrysalis may have been short, but it withstood many trials.”
“I will consider sending someone to keep her company.”
The leaves below shook as the breeze picked up. The two princesses looked out over their city, watching the lights that dotted the landscape flicker out one-by-one as their city prepared to slumber. While Luna basked in the glow of her nocturnal tapestry, Celestia studied her.
“Have you visited Chrysalis?” she asked.
Luna frowned, glancing toward the neighboring balcony.
“Not since we laid her in there.”
“She looks peaceful.”
“That is what bothers me. It seems like just yesterday I was chasing her around the castle trying to keep her under control. But now? She simply looks like she is asleep. I have to keep reminding myself of the truth. What about you?”
“Every night. I promised her I would.”
“Does it not bother you to see her like that?”
“Of course it does,” Celestia lamented. “But I owe her that much.”
“As harsh as it may sound, Sister, you owe her nothing.”
“That isn’t how I see it. She saved me. She saved you. I think, in a way, she even saved Twilight.”
Luna leaned against the railing.
“That should be my debt to pay, Celestia.”
“I’m not talking about the Nightmare.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
Celestia wrinkled her muzzle.
“The night Twilight left, I found a spellbook in Chrysalis’ room. Twilight’s first spellbook, to be precise. That book meant the world to her. But more than that, it was a message to me. I think she wanted me to take care of Chrysalis for her.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Luna muttered.
“Perhaps I am simply being silly, then.” Celestia chuckled. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“If it is what you think is right, I will trust your judgment. Unfortunately, I must take my leave now. Do promise to keep me updated on everything, would you? I do not want you playing tough just to keep me from worrying.”
“I promise,” Celestia assured her.
The two sisters embraced. For several moments, they stood together. Eventually, Luna broke away. Spreading her wings wide, she took the sky, retreating up to the higher towers of the castle. Celestia watched until the dark figure disappeared before returning inside.
Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Celestia threw open her door and stepped out into the hallway. The guards stationed to either side snapped to attention.
“Do you require aid, Princess?” one of them asked, stepping forward hesitantly.
“No, thank you. This will only be a short journey.” She smiled at the both of them as they slackened their posture.
With her guards’ curiosity sated, Celestia made for Chrysalis’ room.
She studied the Changeling’s mark on the door as she pushed it open. She grew used to seeing it as she came and went from her room. The thought of painting over it left her feeling slightly hollow. She shook the thought away and continued inside.
The room was dark. Something Chrysalis had done back when still lived there. A modification to the curtains that left this as the darkest room in the castle. But it wasn’t the creeping shadows that unsettled the solar monarch.
A certain uneasiness swirled around the bedroom. At first, Celestia barely noticed it. But in the silence of the evenings she spent there, she would start to understand. It came to her as a quiet hum, barely audible buried beneath the silence. A silent song that sent a chill down her spine and – more importantly – down her wounded leg.
“Good evening, Chrysalis,” Celestial called out as she limped over to the bed. “I spoke with Thorax today. It seems you’ll be staying with us a little bit longer.” Each word left a bitter taste on her tongue. “I hope you don’t mind.”
With her magic, Celestia pulled a chair up to the bedside. Enveloped completely in the darkness, she could hardly see the bed, let alone the figure entombed within the sheets. She didn’t have to see it, though. The image already existed within her mind. Chrysalis, laying down with her eyes closed. Only the unnatural stillness around her hinted at the true reason.
“Sometimes, I still think back to our last meeting in the hive. To that broken creature that confronted me. I hoped you could be so much more than that. And you didn’t disappoint. I can only hope that you found redemption in your second chance. And I hope that wherever you are, you’re watching over—”
Celestia’s words fumbled as the balcony door behind her creaked open, allowing the roar of the wind into the room. The startled alicorn leapt from her chair. By the time she remembered her injuries, she was too late. She ground her teeth as a surge of pain echoed through her leg. She braced herself, waiting for the ache to pass.
When it did, she found herself facing out into the gardens. The balcony doors were blown open. With a huff, Celestia summoned her magic and shut them. She locked the latch into place to keep them from interrupting her again.
With the interruption dealt with, she returned to her seat.
“I’m sorry. Where was I? Oh, right. I hope that wherever you are, you’re looking over—”
Another breeze. Another crash of the balcony door.
This time, Celestia didn’t jump. Instead, she rose slowly. Frustrated, she didn’t bother to summon her magic this time. She pulled the doors shut and pulled the latch to lock them. Only then did the problem reveal itself.
She sparked her horn, casting a golden light across the lock.
The latch had been broken, allowing the doors to swing freely.
A thought struck the princess square across the brow. She spun around, casting her light over the whole of the room. She searched every nook and cranny, searching for the intruder. Ultimately, such a task proved fruitless. She sighed and made her way back to her seat a third time, rubbing her sore leg with her hooves.
There, as Celestia sat in her chair, her light fell across the empty bed.
